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forzalando · 3 months

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Orange Theory

Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)

summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!

You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.

Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.

“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.

“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”

“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.

“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”

You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.

“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“I just came to give you this.”

Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”

“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”

“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.

“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.

Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.

“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.

“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.

Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”

You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.

“He peels your oranges for you?”

You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”

“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”

“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”

Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.

“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”

“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”

As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.

“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.

As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”

“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”

“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”

“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”

A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.

“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”

“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”

You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”

Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”

“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”

“What else?”

“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”

Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.

“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.

“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.

“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”

Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”

“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”

“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”

“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”

Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.

Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.

Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.

You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.

When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.

You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.

But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.

They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.

You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”

The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.

“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”

“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”

“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.

“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”

You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.

“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”

“Would you kiss me?”

“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”

This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.

“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”

“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.

“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.

You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.

He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.

He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.

His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.

You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.

After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.

Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #forzalando #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

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"Someone. Someone Help Me."

Word Count: 531 - Sanji Pollen Drabble

Masterlist here, Pollen Masterlist here

@gingernut1314 tagged me a while ago to release a snippet of writing for WIP Wednesday. Only issue is, when I get writing: I can't bring myself to stop until it's completed. Like a shark with blood in the water, a cat being coaxed with a piece of smoked salmon, or more like a Snail with the temptation of a crispy slice of lettuce. So, I present this drabble as my small gift to you, dear. This is a small snippet of a collab piece @sordidmusings and I dreamed up a few nights ago - This portion of it being solely Sanji. The larger plot may include this portion as a break away from the main pairing to be disclosed later.

Warnings: Pollen!Sanji, MDNI, Sanji has inhaled pollen, Sanji can't relieve himself, Edging, Crying, Whimpering, Begging, rutting, Solo!Sanji.

Minors, this is not meant for you.

Part 2 Here.

Within the vacant halls of the quiet ship, Sanji was struggling to deal with a foreign issue he had found for himself. He only breathed in a small amount of the dust falling from the soft, white and yellow leaves: rendering himself completely in shock and desperation

He was clutching at himself, fisting his cock hard and fast with a sense of panic falling from him in waves. Although he had reached the peak of climax three times, he was unable to spill himself over the edge. For the first time in his life, Sanji was unable to pleasure himself to the point of spilling his hot cum over his thumb and into an awaiting, silken paper tissue.

Oils, moisturizer - he even spat on himself - nothing was working. His spit even seemed to make his situation more dire, the taint of white and yellow pollen on his saliva making the veins on the underside of his cock fill even more with desire and pulsating blood. His shined, red, glistening tip of his cock was leaking with pearls of translucent pre-cum as he continued to pump himself desperately.

He had tried so many positions: rutting into his palm down onto the mattress below him with the rough snap of his hips, sitting on the edge of his bed and pulling at only the tip, falling onto his knees on the wooden floorboards below him, lying on his back and feeling the coolness of the floor sooth his burning skin while he used one hand to circle the girth of his cock and the other squeezing the exposed tip.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, was working. He needed more. Something more that he couldn’t provide for himself. He climbed back onto the mattress and lied on his back, starting up the pace once more to drag his way towards the finish line again.

Gasps, moans, groans and cries were not silenced, even with him clapping his unused hand over his mouth as he desperately brought himself to the edge of another orgasm; yet having it fall away as he continued to chase it harder with his hand.

Sweat pooling at his temple, his jaw clamped like a vice, and his eyes clenched tightly shut as hot tears trickled down his cheeks.

Whimpers, groans, hisses and stuttering breaths propelling him on to keep beating himself within his closed fist. Trickling out of the corners of his eyes, he began to desperately sob harder. He was being held hostage by his inability to climax, his tears falling freely from his eyes. His lips opened wide to reveal stringy and desperate dribbles of spit over his lips and into his palm, his eyes glazed and pupils blown.

"S-Someone. Someone h-help me" he cried, his heart beating desperately hard against his ribcage. His sniffles, sobs and whimpers alerted none to his current predicament; the remainder of the crew pursuing their own interests away from the kitchen and crew quarters.

“P-Please,” he whimpered, his hot tears of frustration falling to join the drips of sweat pouring from his hairline, down his temple and onto the soft pillowcase below him, “Please. I’m begging. P-Please, I-I can’t do this anymore.”

#sanji #sanji smut #sanji solo #opla #one piece #opla fic #one piece live action #sanji vinsmoke #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #desperate sanji #poor sweet sanji #op smut

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zh-lele · 4 months

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12-7 ROOM (part two)

Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.

▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader

▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff

▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity, suggestive jokes, kissing, and some very light suggestive scenes.

▪︎Word count (part 2): 7721 words

playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories

Author's note: hi everyone :') sorry for being so absent and never posting the final part to 12-7 room. But hey, I finally got the motivation to do it. I've been also writing other things but I don't know when I'll finsih them or post them. Anyways, if you want to take a look, the other things I'm always working on are listed on my wips page. Once again, sorry for taking too long to post this and I hope someone can enjoy it anyway. Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Seriously, thank you. This isn't proof read so tell me if you find any mistakes, please and thank you. Enjoy!

Saturday, 08:37 p.m.

"I feel like we're betraying Mark."

"Why?"

"We're having a sleepover without him," you explain to Donghyuck while you extend your left hand to him, and he places his right hand over your palm, so you can continue painting his nails with a black polish. "You know, we're listening to Bruno Mars, eating watermelon–"

"Aren't we supposed to eat watermelon in the summer?" Donghyuck interrupts you to ask.

"Real watermelon enjoyers eat watermelon no matter what time of the year it is–Hyuck!" you scream after he makes a sudden move to grab a piece of fruit from the bowl and half his index finger ends up covered in black nail polish. "Stop moving your hand!"

"I'm sorry!"

He apologizes and stays still in front of your body, legs crossed and knees touching yours. Donghyuck is so close you can feel his breath in your hair, and even though you know it's impossible for him to hear your heart-rate increasing exponentially, you fear the closeness and the intimacy may give you away. Honestly, by this time you thought you might have figured it out: you had to either rethink your relationship and conclude that you were only going to be friends forever, or accept your feelings and confess to him, no matter what the outcome could be.

But you find yourself finishing Donghyuck's nails and looking up to him, who was–as more often as you thought–already looking at you. He smiles to you sweetly, no teeth on sight, and he looks ridiculous. Donghyuck is wearing a sheet mask with the form of a peach, yet you still find the sight in front of you incredibly endearing. The worst part about it is that you're looking as ridiculous as him, with the lemon-shaped sheet mask covering your face. You feel his thumb gently caress the back of your hand that he was still holding even long after you've finished. And as his soft features are illuminated by the warm dim lights of the lamp and the TV, as he holds your hand and looks at you as if you might be the prettiest lemon he has seen, you get that feeling again.

The comfort, the domesticity. The urge to be his companion, to share moments like this and many more. Every day.

Your phone buzzes as you set an alarm to take the masks off twenty minutes ago.

Donghyuck lets your hand go. He lets go of your heart too—but only for a second. He cradles your face, his soft fingertips pet your jaw, then your cheeks, and you can't hold his gaze anymore. You want to look down, drop your head before you start word-vomiting everything you're feeling and you've been feeling for him since the moment you met, since that first time he cooked ramen for you and you decided you wanted it to be your comfort food forever.

Donghyuck won't let you look down, though. He applies pressure with his fingers in the place where your neck and your jaw meet and with his thumbs on your cheeks. Your lips naturally pout under the pressure and you see it. Donghyuck. Your best friend. The guy you've liked forever now, looking at your lips for what you think it's been like the fourth time this weekend. And it's only been hours since the weekend started.

Is it really going to happen? Are you about to kiss Donghyuck right now? On the living room's couch on a saturday night in, under the dim lights, while Silk Sonic's Love's Train plays in the background and you're wearing fruit-shaped sheet masks?

It is fucking romantic.

Yet it never comes.

It doesn't happen.

Donghyuck just says: "It's time to take the masks off."

And you agree because, well, what the hell are you supposed to do? Just throw yourself all over him like you, maybe, have been imagining? Donghyuck takes your mask off your skin and you take his, that leaves his face looking the softest and smelling like sweet peaches. That definitely doesn't help your situation.

You're incredibly frustrated. Upset, even, like a kid who got denied his candy. (You wish Donghyuck was your candy.) You hate this sleepover now and even wish Mark was here to cock-block the entire situation. That would be less upsetting.

"And?" He asks once both of you have your masks off. "Do I look cuter now?"

Oh, so he's aware he's already incredibly cute.

You can't contain a smile. He's only centimeters away from you after he quickly moves back to look for his glasses. You feel the need to poke his cheeks that look as soft as marshmallows and smell like fucking peaches. Actually, you might feel the need to eat him.

But you don't dare say anything. Only trying to hide your smile looking down, as your face grows red, you let Donghyuck think of his own conclusions after your reaction.

Thing is, you're kind of a coward.

Donghyuck says it's time to netflix and chill, and you laugh because the statement is followed by a "Literally. Don't start thinking about something dirty."

He places himself on the mattress on the floor (the one you've been sleeping since you arrived), a bunch of pillows supporting his back, and makes room for you. He's cheeky enough to pat his stomach to tell you to lie there, between his legs and over his body. Just like that, as if you hadn't been melting before just by holding his hand in yours or having your knees touch. And now he wants you to lie on his stomach?

Are you really that close? If so, why isn't he your boyfriend yet?

You open your eyes wider and point a finger at yourself. "Me. Me?" Your voice comes out full of disbelief.

"Not you. Mark," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Of course it's you! Unless you don't want to lay together?"

"I mean…"

How do you make it sound not so desperate, not too obvious?

You just shrug and say, "Yeah, sure."

Aced it.

Donghyuck's body feels like the softest mattress you've ever laid on, like you could close your eyes and sleep trapped in his limbs forever. And because of the closeness, you can sense the vibrations of his voice traveling from his torso to your ears. His tone is quiet and gentle, talking about what to watch to no one in particular because, even though he's talking to you, you're too concentrated on opening your camera and capturing the moment in a video of the two of you.

"Look how cute," you say, moving your arm to his eye level to show him the video. "You talk in pout when you're really concentrated."

When you're conscious of the surroundings once again, you're sure you've replayed the video with a smile on your face like ten times.

"You should upload that."

"I've posted enough about you," you reply to his suggestion, going back and saving the video to your drafts. "People are gonna think you're my boyfriend or whatever…"

"Would that be so bad?" Donghyuck questions with his eyes fixed on the TV screen. When you move your head back to look up at him, he dares to connect eyes with you. "People thinking I'm your boyfriend?"

Sunday, 12:02 p.m.

Donghyuck had always been clingy.

Yet you didn't know he could be this clingy in the mornings.

Mark has been trying to get Donghyuck out of bed for like ten minutes now, but he won't get up. While your brother is pulling his arm out, Donghyuck pulls Mark's arm in, asking him to join him and sleep 'just a little more'.

Yes, your brother found you both sleeping on the mattress in the living room. No, you and Donghyuck were not clinging to each other (sadly). But Hyuck was for sure clinging to your brother now.

"Mark!" He protests in a sleepy tone. "What do you want if you won't come in?"

"We were supposed to have brunch together," your brother tells Donghyuck again, yet he must be too sleepy to process what's happening.

"I won't go." Donghyuck states and doesn't even open his eyes again. The living room is clear enough, as the winter sun has been hitting for hours now. But it isn't an impediment for him to curl up under the blankets like a burrito and go back to sleep.

Mark drops his shoulders and allows himself to sigh, finally defeated by his heavy-sleeper best friend. "I guess it's just you and me, y/n."

—

Fortunately for you, the weather has been amazing since you arrived in the city where your brother lives. Saturday was no different, with a clear blue sky above your heads despite it being winter, and the sun shining just the right amount to touch your skin and leave it warm. A little breeze messes with you and your brother's freshly dyed hair as you sit outside a coffee shop, brunch almost all devoured on the table. Mark hums to a familiar jazzy tune that plays all the way from inside the café.

And the atmosphere is beautifully calm. But you need to get something out of your chest. For once.

"So," you start and Mark moves eyes from his food to set them on you, expectant of your next words with a mouth full of pancakes and fruit. "I think I like Donghyuck."

Mark starts coughing after hearing you, and you wonder if it is because of the shock of your confession or because he really is that careless to get the food stuck in his throat.

"Yeah, I knew," he confirms once it's clear for him to speak again.

"The fuck you mean 'you knew'?"

"I mean, honestly, it's pretty obvious." Your brother can't hide a smile. He drops the fork to properly talk to you this time. "Like, you've always had some kind of thing… I don't know, I thought I had a special connection with Hyuck," he says pointing at himself, eyes wide with what could look like a little bit of shock. "But you two… You two are something else."

"Oh God," you cover your face in embarrassment even though after your brother's words there's no point in hiding anything anymore. "So you've been watching me acting like a fool in love around Donghyuck all this time, and you said nothing."

"I didn't say anything 'cuz I thought it had to come from you." He shrugs. "Wanted you to feel comfy enough to tell me, even though I had my suspicions, obviously."

"May I ask… Why," you hesitate a little before asking for a third-person perspective. "Why were you suspicious about it?"

"Dude, I don't know," a small laughter escapes him. "You just look like you'd be all over each other if you could."

You just groan in frustration hearing your brother saying you might have been way more obvious than you thought you were. Temperature rises to your cheeks coloring them a little red, and not because of the midday sun hitting right from above your head.

"And you can," Mark says, yet you don't get it, the tilting of your indicating he has to clarify. "Like, you can be all over each other. I don't know why nothing has happened between the two of you yet."

"'Cuz I don't know if he likes me?"

"How could you know if you don't try?"

Your gaze drops to your lap, and you realize you've been playing with the rings of your hands, taking them off and putting them on over and over, indicating the conversation is making you a little nervous.

Mark must notice, since he keeps talking. "Just tell him, dude. Best case scenario, he also likes you, you move out together and make me free from Donghyuck's ass."

The way he puts it makes you laugh, yet there's a slight weight to your eyes, as if tears could start falling down slowly at any time after holding your feelings in for so long. So you take a deep breath, blink a few times and look at the sun.

The sun, shining in its maximum splendor in the middle of the sky. And you wonder what he's doing right now. Donghyuck, or Haechan, as his mother used to call him when he was little. Full Sun, because he's always so bright and energetic, like a happy virus (Mark would also call him a pain in the ass, but you see, it depends on who you ask.)

"Worst case scenario, you remain as good friends," Mark continues. "C'mon, you know him, he's not a dick. You just gotta try talking to him."

You gulp and nod at him, now trying to make eye contact with a subtle smile on your face. Another deep breath. "You're right. Donghyuck won't hurt me, no matter what the outcome is."

Monday, 01:43 a.m.

On Mark's phone...

Meanwhile at the livingroom...

"Hyuck–wait. Can't we go slower?!"

"Look at that!" Donghyuck screams pointing at the TV screen, after taking the airpod off his right ear. You do the same with the one you were using, and the music from the game stops playing in your head. "I got a perfect score!" And he continues to do a silly victory dance, moving his hips from side to side with his arms in the air.

You really don't want to be mad at Donghyuck right now.

"This is so unfair," you tell him, stepping out of the frame and leaving the remote on top of the game console. "You didn't tell me you were this good. And you know I can't dance at all."

"You're right," Donghyuck says sincerely, a hand on his chest, right in front of his heart and all. "I didn't tell you I'm a dancing god and took advantage of your poor dancing skills to win the Just Dance."

You really don't want to get mad at him, but sometimes he makes it pretty much impossible.

"You." A hand comes in contact with Donghyuck's arm. Your hand. "Dirty." Another slap. "Bastard." And another one. "I hate you so much!"

"Hey!" He protests rubbing his arm after you slapped it. "Lying is a sin."

"I'm not lying," you say. "I hate you. You put on the fastest choreo to follow."

Donghyuck follows you around to the kitchen and watches your every move. He's right behind you, his eyes following your motions when you fill a glass with water, when you gulp it down, when you clean it and leave it back on the counter. He's hot on your heels when you come back to the common area and take the inflatable mattress out to get ready to sleep. He's still following your moves carefully when you put on the sheets and when you lay on it with the remote of the TV in hand. He only takes his eyes off your body when the Netflix logo appears on the screen and he notices you're about to watch the show you two started together.

You know he's dying for a word from you.

"You don't mean it," he says, now free of all mocking tones.

"I don't mean what?"

"You don't hate me."

You're pretty sure Donghyuck doesn't need you to confirm that you weren't serious. Naturally, he has always shown himself as a very self-assured and friendly person; It's not normal that people don't like Donghyuck. However, when you meet his eyes, wide and expectant of your response, and perhaps wet with a little insecurity, you understand that things are not always what they seem.

"How could I ever hate you, Hyuck?" you tell him to extend a hand in his direction, inviting him to lay on your side on the mattress.

Relief takes over his expression, and a wide smile is plastered on his face. He's quick to get comfortable (maybe too comfortable, not that you really mind) laying his head on your lap, and moving your left hand to his hair that looks like it's got longer over the days. You know he wants you to play with it—Donghyuck loves getting his hair played with. The fourth episode of My First First Love starts playing on the TV screen, and you hear Donghyuck sigh contentedly.

The subtle strokes at the hair on his nape get Donghyuck smiling again and exhaling deeper at your tranquil touch. And, not to be biased, but the colored lights coming from the TV highlight the softest, most beautiful face features you've seen in your life. In an act of courage, you move your fingertips from his hair, to his sharp jaw, to his cheekbones, gently caressing the warm skin.

Donghyuck moves his head on your lap until he's no longer watching TV. Neither are you. You're just staring at each other in silence. He's letting you stroke every part of skin until the tip of your fingers make it to his lips. His plump pink lips that have been tempting you more and more the past days. And he places a kiss there. On the tip of your fingers.

You freeze and grow red. Then he places another kiss, and another, making it three the times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin.

It may be driving you crazy.

He's careful with his movements, so careful it turns almost painful watching him. Donghyuck grabs your wrist and gets up to sit beside your spot on the mattress. Doesn't let go of your hand—instead, he holds it tenderly, caresses the back of it with his thumb, then places another kiss there.

Four times you've felt Donghyuck's lips on your skin. Five. Six—he just placed a kiss on your palm. Wait, another on your wrist. That's seven kisses so far.

But it's not enough. Now you've felt his lips you want them everywhere, all the time. So when he gets your hand closer to keep kissing you there, you grab his face. Feel the skin there, of his jaw, of his neck, and it's really hot. You think you might even feel the rapid pace of his pulse when you press your fingers on his neck (but it could also be your own.) Lastly, you tangle your fingers in his hair that he has let grow during these weeks of winter break. You tug on it a little, just enough to let him know you want him close. Closer, please.

And Donghyuck sighs, more like he fucking moans.

You wonder if you should say something before moving forward. What about all the things you talked to Mark yesterday? Should you tell him about how you feel before kissing him? What does he want? And what would this be after you kiss?

The call of your name interrupts your torment of thoughts.

"Please," he begs in a whisper, eyes closed as your noses brush against each other. "I'll die if I don't kiss you right now."

A laugh comes out of you because he always has to be that exaggerated, but you decide to set all questions aside for a moment to just dive into him.

He starts off very gently, with his slightly parted lips pressing against yours. They are indeed as fleshy and soft as they look, and taste like a cherries lipbalm. Donghyuck repeatedly places small kisses on your lips until you open your mouth a little more, and he captures your lower lip, biting a bit there. It gets another little tug on his hair from you, a sigh of relief after tasting his mouth after years of longing, and everything becomes more needy.

Donghyuck grabs at both sides of your head to deepen the kiss, smashing lips together repeatedly and kissing you sloppily. When you allow him to, he pushes his tongue into your mouth and you push your body closer to his.

He grabs your wrist not neglecting your lips even a second, as if the both of you were magnetized, and places his palm on your waist inviting you to his lap. It makes you laugh out of nervousness, so Donghyuck opens his eyes to watch you straddle him and place yourself on top of him very carefully.

His touch travels from your waist to the sides of your torso, his right hand in a place that you're sure allows Donghyuck to feel your increased heart rate. Your hands cradle his neck, then tug at the hair of his nape as he observes you kind of mesmerized, inhaling deeply, smiling a little and wetting his lips before you're diving into each other once again.

You've lost count of the amount of times you've felt Donghyuck's sweet lips on you by now. But you're sure of one thing: you don't want it to be the last.

"In case you were still wondering," he breaks the kiss to talk to you. "I like you, kinda a lot."

His hair is slightly disheveled from all the pulling, his lips are shiny and swollen, and he looks a little agitated. In his incredibly dilated black pupils you can see the reflection of your smile.

"I also like you, Hyuck," you finally confess to him. "I like you like, a huge amount."

He lets out a sigh of relief, more like a scream, and you're quick to cover his mouth reminding him that your brother is supposed to be sleeping five meters away from you. Yet, you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

He presses your foreheads together as his hands caress your sides, from your knees, to your waist, and to your lower back. Both your thumbs stroke his cheeks gently before you move to place some smooches there, in each of Donghyuck's moles (that is all over his face.) You think of all the times you imagined doing exactly that and find it hard to believe there's a possibility you could have Donghyuck any time you want now.

You only have to talk it out and see how things could progress between the two of you in the future. In the meantime, you'll keep smooching the literal personification of the sun (that might be because he feels hot as fuck right now, or because his smile is bright as the sun, or maybe he could be both.)

(Still) Monday, 01:00 p.m.

Donghyuck has had his head over the clouds since last night. After a heavy make-out session with you and some cuddling, he went back to his shared bedroom to sleep at like four a.m., being the most quiet possible to not wake your brother up and maybe having him asking what the hell was Donghyuck doing with you in the living room until four in the morning. He can’t escape the knowing smile Mark gives him though, when he wakes up and sees Donghyuck already up and working at his desk.

Donghyuck pretends everything is normal, greeting Mark good morning as usual.

“Good morning, Melk.”

“You sound too happy,” Mark groans in response, still sitting on his bed only half awake.

Donghyuck checks the time on the corner of his computer; one p.m. during holidays is like eight a.m. to Mark. Your brother just sits there for a while and Donghyuck goes back to studying for amoment, until the silence of the room gets interrupted.

“Yo,” Mark calls to attract Donghyuck’s attention. “What you did last night was fucking nasty.”

“What–” Donghyuck tries asking, only to have Mark interrupting him.

“I heard you two going at it," he starts with a very serious expression that gets Donghyuck's blood completely drained from his face. What could've Mark possibly heard? "My sister was telling you to go slower and everything.'' Mark makes some gagging sounds to add to his point and Donghyuck grows as equally embarrassed and amused at your brother’s assumptions.

“You think we fucked?” Donghyuck asks in complete disbelief. An exaggerated nervous laugh follows the question. “With you in the house?” He points a finger at Mark.

“You didn’t?”

“Sorry to tell you what you heard was us playing Just Dance. The last choreo was too hard and y/n couldn’t follow it.”

Donghyuck watches his best friend rub the sleep off his eyes and get up from the bed while he denies with his head, looking kind of defeated. “You’re both the biggest losers I’ve ever known,” Mark says, referring to you and Donghyuck.

“Hey!” Donghyuck starts to defend himself, his eyes grow bigger as his brows go up, and the characteristic Donghyuck pout starts to show, like in every situation a discussion is involved. “It was fun! We had a good time, ask her.”

“Losers made for each other, I swear.” Mark emphasizes his point. “So you didn’t fuck.”

Donghyuck doesn't look up from his math notes to answer. There's no way in hell he's having this conversation looking at Mark in the face. “By now, I’m sure I might be a virgin again.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Mark can’t contain a laugh, though. “That’s bad for your health. Get your dick wet already.”

“I’m just waiting for the right time with your sister.”

“Hey! You can’t joke like that anymore.” Donghyuck knows by Mark’s tone all the bickering has become dead-serious now. It has always been like this when it’s about you. First they joke a little about it, then Donghyuck reminds Mark how much he truly likes you, and lastly Mark tells Donghyuck to just confess to you already because he’s tired of hearing about it. “If you’re joking about my sister I’m gonna beat you up.” Mark reminds him.

“Sorry.” This time, Donghyuck is brave enough to face his best friend. It’s kind of hard for Donghyuck to believe it when Mark tells him he’s getting beated up, though, when Mark’s wearing the pajamas Johnny got him as a gift recently–some blue panty with a moose on the back that says ‘don’t moose with me’. “I’m not joking about her.”

“I know.” Mark covers the pajamas that distract his friend so much as he puts on his jeans. “You like each other so much it’s disgusting.”

Donghyuck can’t hide his smile after hearing that, and it reminds him of all the kisses you shared last night, which makes him grow red in the face. Nothing a little more bickering with your brother can’t hide.

“You’re sooo cruel to me, Markie.” Donghyuck tries to hug Mark before he’s leaving the room, but morning Mark has always been like a stray cat who doesn’t like affection (unless it comes from Yuta, which Donghyuck can’t comprehend very well but he supposes the japanese has something pretty magnetic.)

“Get off of me!”

“Only a lil’ kiss, pleaaase!”

They struggle at the door of the room and into the common area. Donghyuck with his lips millimeters from Mark's face while Mark tries with all his might to get away from Donghyuck, who can be like a tick. They're so caught up in their things neither of them has noticed you're there, observing the entire interaction.

“Why don’t you go and kiss y/n? I’m sure she’ll enjoy it,” you hear Mark say when he finally frees himself from Donghyuck.

It’s at this moment that you know you are hearing too much, so you clear your throat to let them know that you are there too. They both freeze after turning around and seeing you sitting at the kitchen island. Your brother Mark, the great opportunist and master at escaping from uncomfortable situations, greets you good morning and is off to work in a second, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the apartment.

You watch Donghyuck get closer to where you’re sitting. He hasn’t changed from his sleeping shorts and the hoodie he was wearing last night–the same hoodie you pulled on as you kissed in the same mattress laying meters behind him. Yet you don’t know how to describe the sensation you’re feeling right now. After seeing the boy you like the most fighting your brother for a kiss, your stomach feels… weird? You know the kind of relationship they have–they’re best friends, they bicker and fight and make up all the time. They live based on Donghyuck love-bombing Mark and Mark denying the affection all the time. But they love each other in a brotherly way, it has always been like that.

It’s not like you expected Donghyuck to want to hug and kiss you and only you after what happened last night, but you kind of did expect it.

Were you jealous of Donghyuck’s best friend, your own brother Mark?

Donghyuck looks at you confused when you don't accept his hug right away. You stop his arms midway, and his eyes look defeated, full of worry. “Did something happen?”

You deny with your head. “I don’t know, that kind of felt weird,” you confess to him.

Donghyuck caresses your arms, feeling you relax from the defensive attitude from before, until he gets your hands together. “What felt weird?”

It’s ridiculous, you know it is and you’re embarrassed about what you’re about to say. Yet, you can’t help but:

“I think I got jealous,” you say and watch his brows furrowed together. “You know, when you were trying to kiss Mark…”

Donghyuck only bursts out laughing and hugs you tightly against his chest, leaving you no time to escape the sudden affection. He smells like fabric softener and feels comfortable like a pillow. And you hate that you love the way his laugh resonates through your entire body when he presses you to himself like that.

“You know I never want to kiss Mark seriously, right? That I only do it ‘cause I know he hates it,” he explains once he’s separated from you, still holding your hands in his and looking you in the eyes. “I don’t want to kiss anyone the way I want to kiss you.”

You look down hiding your smile, thinking he’s cute at first and processing his words then, which makes you laugh a little. Donghyuck realizes right away and starts to laugh too, leaving the seriousness behind.

“Was that too much?” He asks.

You nod in response. “But it’s good to know.”

“Good,” he says before planting a kiss on your cheek. He’s only millimeters away from your face when he speaks again. “No need to be jealous then.”

Donghyuck turns you around on the chair, so your back is pressing against the island and he can stand comfortably between your legs. He starts as he did last night, planting a kiss on your knuckles, then your wrist, but you don’t wanna waste any more time so you free yourself from his hands and start cradling his face. His lips look as tempting as always, maybe even more after you tasted them for the first time.

He notices your look so he gives you a lopsided, attractive smile that you desperately wanna rip off his face.

“How can you look this handsome in the morning?” You ask, admiring all his features.

“I mean, technically it’s past the morning.” he answers in a cocky tone.

“Shut up already.”

You don’t give him time to fight back as you’re sealing his lips with a kiss. It’s slow but deep, and his skin feels warm and soft under your fingertips, all the way from his sharp jaw to his cheekbones. When he bites your lip a little bit to get full access to your mouth, you worry about the breakfast you were having minutes ago, but Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind:

“Mhmm,” he hums, breaking apart and licking his lips. “You taste like maple syrup.” And he steals another quick kiss from you.

“Yeah,” you say as you turn around to face the kitchen island again. “‘Cause you interrupted my breakfast.”

But despite you showing your back to him and trying to finish your food, Donghyuck won’t let you eat in peace. “Oh yeah,” he murmurs against the skin of your neck after he moves your hair to your left shoulder. He plants a soft kiss on your right side, sending shivers down your spine and making it hard to concentrate on your task. “I’m sooo sorry I interrupted you.” His tone is full of sarcasm as his kisses travel to your jaw and all the way down again. “And you hated it sooo much.”

The metallic sound of your fork falling off your hand and hitting the plate startles the both of you. Donghyuck stops sucking on your neck and you fall out of your trance. Your startled face might be somewhat funny, because Donghyuck starts giggling as you both realize you were enjoying his kisses a little too much.

“Let’s go on a date.”

“All of a sudden?”

He nods with a smile on his face. “It’s your last day here tomorrow. It’s not like we won’t see each other anymore but… I want to take you out before your last day here.”

“Okay,” you agree, matching his smile.

“Okay?” He asks once more and sighs contentedly when you nod your head yes. “I’ll go plan everything. Make sure you’re all mine this afternoon!” And he leaves the room after kissing your right cheek.

(The busiest) Monday, 07:37 p.m.

“Hyuck, come on, there’s seriously no way of winning with those machines.”

“Babe, just one more try. I wanna get something for you.”

Donghyuck has been fighting against a claw machine for what felt like half an hour now. Since none of you weren’t able to win any of the games you tried at the carnival, you really appreciate his determination to win a prize for you this way. Yet you arrived here at five p.m., and after two rounds of bumper cars, after testing your strength at Ring the Bell (and both of you failing embarrassingly), riding the teacups, getting scared to death in the haunted house, and going twice into the Ferris wheel (one time for the sightseeing and pics and another time for kissing at the top of it) your stomach growls with hunger.

“We could’ve paid dinner with all the money you spent on this machine-”

“Wait, I’m about to get it!”

“Let’s just go get dinner.”

“But I’m about to get it!”

And you see it forreal this time: the claw holding a big Pochacco plushie and it falling right into the hole.

“Hyuck, you got it!” You scream in disbelief, a big smile taking over your face (maybe because of the cute plushie or maybe because it meant you were finally going to have some food.)

You watch Donghyuck lose his arm through the hatch and get it back, this time with the stuffed animal in his hand. When he’s presenting it in front of you, the stuffed animal is so big that it blocks your view. You admire it for a second, and then take it into your arms to discover a Donghyuck wearing the biggest smile you've seen in a while. He’s all cozied up, his jacket and stuffed hat making him look like a real life teddy bear. Even so, the cold of the winter has caused the tip of his nose and his cheeks to turn red, somehow making him look even cuter.

“I got it for you!” He says, the excitement not leaving his body even for a second.

You can’t contain yourself and, as an impulse, grab him from the jacket with your free hand and pull forward until your lips are meeting his. Just a short peck as a way of saying thank you, I love it (you.)

Neither of you realizes the little crowd you've drawn around the machines, not until you hear the applause and cheering as you're breaking away from your kiss. You’ve never seen Donghyuck get shy when drawing people’s attention, so this might be your first time noticing him trying to hide under his hat and into your embrace. You laugh it off even when you're equally embarrassed, but thank him for the plushie and tell him to run away from there to get dinner.

—

“I think I’ve liked you from the start,” Donghyuck confesses all of a sudden.

Well, maybe not so all of a sudden. While you two were having your dinner, bottle of beer came after bottle of beer. At some point of the night, you thought it was a good idea to start having soju. Donghyuck said something like “it’s our last night together, we should celebrate and get wasted” to justify your decision. So it may be the full stomachs and the alcohol making you be honest with each other.

“I know I’ve liked you from the start.”

“Aaall the guys knew too…” He slurs his words a little when speaking. “I wouldn't shut up about you.”

You can't hide your drunken, enamored smile when hearing him. But something makes a little noise inside your head. “All the guys knew?” You ask and he nods quickly. “Even Mark?”

“Even Mark,” Donghyuck confirms. “I mean, we always kind of had this joke going around that I was always waiting for you.” He pours himself another drink. “But we both knew it wasn't a joke.”

“Oh god.” You cover your face, embarrassed. “My own brother lied to me,” you say and Donghyuck makes a confused sound, which makes you keep explaining. “He pretended to know nothing about your feelings when I confessed to him that I liked you.”

“I asked him not to say anything.”

“Huh?”

“I wanted to tell you myself how much I like you.”

“Oh god,” it's all you can repeat right now, all these confessions and the alcohol making you grow hot everywhere. “It's so hot inside this restaurant,” you say as you take your jacket off.

Donghyuck knows the red on your cheeks isn't only because of the heat inside the place.

“I like you sooo much,” he says as he watches you giggle out of nervousness. Donghyuck calls your name and holds your hand over the table to try to get you to look at him, but you only giggle and hide your face with your other hand. “I'm in love with you!”

“Okay, okay!” You're laughing by now, trying to cover his mouth to shut him up and not attract everyone's attention like you did at the carnival. “I'm in love with you too!”

“Good,” he says with an extremely pleased smile, that one that has always attracted you to him so much.

“Good?” you repeat and he nods.

Your phone screen lights up showing it's Mark calling you. You silently tell Donghyuck you're picking up and he lets go of your hand for you to do so.

“Yes?”

“Yo,” you hear Mark answer from the other side. “We're at Yuta's right now, we're working on some music with Taeil and TY so I think I'm just gonna crash here tonight.”

“Uhm, are you sure you don't wanna go back?” You ask and make eye contact with Donghyuck, who narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side after your question. You only shrug to him as a response.

“Nah, I'll leave the apartment for the two of you so make good use of it.” Your brother answers convincingly.

“Okay, I'll see you in the morning.”

“All right bet, see you in the morning.” And he's quick to hang up.

You take the phone off your ear and look at it confused for a bit, until Donghyuck breaks the silence. “Everything all right with Mark?”

“Yeah,” you say as you put the phone down. “He said he's not going back home tonight.”

“Oh.”

You think of the words your brother said. “Leaving the apartment for the two of you,” and “making good use of it,” and it hits you. A little bit late, but it hits you.

“Oh…” you repeat, a surprised expression now taking over your face.

“Yeah, oh!” Donghyuck agrees. “We're having a real sleepover tonight!”

But by the excitement in Donghyuck's face, the one a little kid would show when told he's sleeping at a friend's, you aren't convinced he thought the same way you and Mark did.

(The last day at your brother's) Tuesday, 09:12 a.m.

The next morning, you wake up pretty confused. When you open your eyes, you're not sleeping at your usual spot. Your surroundings look very different from the living room where you've been sleeping every night. To your right, you spot Donghyuck's desk, filled with physics books, a pile of comics, and the typical empty Red Bull cans. The mattress also feels incredibly comfortable, soft but firm under you. But the most strange thing is the weight over your body, and a cologne you know very well and like very much flooding your senses. That's when you realize Donghyuck is laying all over you, stretched like a starfish.

You laugh and struggle to take your arms under him, and when you wrap them around the boy over you and squeeze, he starts to laugh too.

"Are the curtains open?" You ask in a voice still full of sleep.

He moves his head up to catch the smile on your face. "No?"

"Then why is the sun so bright in my face?"

The smile spreads on his face and he plants a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're so fucking cheesy." And he kisses you again.

“Get off,” you try to move him from over your face and your body. “I haven’t washed my mouth.”

“I don’t care,” he says, finally moving and sitting at the side of his bed, where you’re still laying in. “I’m not missing a chance to kiss you.”

“You’re sooo fucking cheesy,” you repeat his words.

“And you like me sooo much.” Donghyuck moves to the nightstand and grabs an aspirin and a can of Red Bull and brings them to your mouth. “Take, it’ll make you feel better after all we had last night.”

You sit up a little on the bed to do what he told you, and once you've swallowed the aspirin you let yourself fall back against his pillow. Donghyuck is still sitting on the edge of the bed, exchanging glances with you and holding your hand lovingly. He's wearing the Michael Jackson t-shirt that he likes so much and he's wearing his messy hair, just as you left it after pulling, fixing and messing it up while you kissed him countless times the night before.

You’re leaving today, and it’s like all the feelings you’ve accumulated these past years are hitting right now, all at once.

“I wish I could wake up like this everyday.”

“Hungover?”

“No, not hungover,” you laugh at his question. “With you.”

He smiles and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “We’ll figure it out.”

You sit up in the bed and search for the energy drink on the nightstand. After a few drinks, you’ve figured the morning breath can’t be so bad, so you move to face him properly and grab his face for a real kiss. Donghyuck doesn’t take long to reciprocate and start caressing your entire body. He’s always the first one to take the kisses to other places, so you take the lead this time. You discovered last night that Donghyuck can’t resist the kisses on his neck. You start placing soft kisses, then some licks until you suck a little and he fails to suppress a moan. He laughs it off and calls your name.

“I want to ask something important,” he says, looking you dead-serious in the eyes now, all the jokes and the desire aside. After you nod in response, telling he has your attention, he takes a big breath of courage. “It may seem a little rushed, but after all we’ve shared these years and after this week we’ve spent together, I don’t want you to leave without asking you to go out with me.”

You feel the temperature increase throughout your skin. Is he finally asking you to…

“Be my girlfriend?” As if he knew you from inside and out, he finishes your thoughts out loud.

Temperature reaches your face as well as probably the biggest smile you’ve worn since you got here. You cradle his face, squeeze his cheeks with your hands until a pout is showing and you can’t help but laugh—out of nervousness but also out of happiness, from having the sun in your hands and all for yourself.

“Lee Donghyuck,” you start. “That’d make me the happiest in the world, in the universe.”

“You’re sooo cheesy!” He starts the bickering once again, yet he’s sealing your deal with a kiss on your smile and, of course, you’re returning the affection.

(Later that) Tuesday, 03:30 p.m.

You’re standing in the building’s hallway while your brother struggles to lock the door to the 12-7 apartment. Donghyuck is patiently holding your suitcase, waiting for Mark to be done. They’re going to accompany you to the bus stop that’s coming at four p.m. so you can finally go home to the rest of your family and your normal life—you’ll be back studying and working in a few days, after spending Christmas with the family and Donghyuck, who promised to be there to join the Christmas lunch at your home and—maybe, if he doesn’t chicken out—present himself as your boyfriend to your parents.

“We need to change the door lock before y/n moves in here,” Mark says after finally locking it.

“What?” Donghyuck and you ask in unison. “Moving here?”

“You’re not moving in with Donghyuck? I thought I’d finally be free from him,” your brother answers, kind of disappointed, but not as disappointed as Donghyuck after noticing how bad your brother wants him out.

“But where will you go?” You ask him.

“I made plans to share the floor with Yuta.”

“That motherfucking japanese!” Donghyuck screams following Mark down the hallway, and you palm his back trying to reassure him, but your boyfriend won’t calm down. “I swear he wants to steal my best friend from me! He’s so jealous of my life!”

“What would he be jealous of, Donghyuck?” Your brother asks tiredly, and you know he’s rolling his eyes even if all you see is his back opening the building’s front door.

“Of our last-longing, incredibly unique friendship, of-fucking-course!” Donghyuck answers like it’s obvious.

“I’m pretty sure you just kept this friendship to get with my sister.”

“Mark?! That’s not true. I love you, man. Mark-Mark, come on!”

taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm @minkyuncutie @bbh-kji @minhosprettywife

#haechan #haechan x reader #nct fanfic #donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck x reader #zh-lele

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yellowcabdriver · 7 months

Text

desperate

pairing: yuuji itadori x f!reader

genre: fluff

a/n: i quit my old soul-crushing job and i’m desperately trying to finish off all wips before i start my new job svdndjsj please enjoy 🙏🏻 live laugh lovesick yuuji 🫡💕 very shamelessly got inspired by this post

nobara said yuuji shouldn’t call you.

“you don’t want her to think that you’re desperate, right?”

yeah, maybe.

but here’s a thing that a considerate friend that is nobara didn’t take into account.

yuuji is crazy about you and he is indeed very desperate for you and your attention. he is filled with joy and excitement whenever he hears your voice – it’s almost pavlovian, very embarrassing. or at least could be, if yuuji cared enough. his pride is a small price to pay to have a wonder that is you in his life.

but yuuji has to admit, maybe nobara is right. at the end of the day you two are not dating (yet, as yuuji very much hopes). you two are not even very close friends (yet, again, as yuuji hopes).

yuuji’s finger lingers over a call button under your name embezzled with a variety of heart emojis.

“at least text her before calling, you know, it’s kind of a new etiquette these days, not to call someone unannounced,” yuuji remembers nobara’s chastising. it makes yuuji hesitate. of course, he doesn’t want to seem like an ignorant bumpkin who isn’t aware of social cues. what if you’re busy? which you probably are because you are so smart and cool. and you are definitely a great texter (even if you weren’t, yuuji wouldn’t know any better because he is that much in love).

with a sigh, yuuji slides over to messages and starts typing rather pathetically “hiiii how are you???” while fighting the urge to add like a gazillion emojis to express himself better. nobara is really getting into his head, yuuji sighs. this is hard considering he is not exactly an overthinker (that would require having more than one thought and his only singular thought right now is you). a text is better than nothing, sure, but yuuji really really really needs to hear your voice. so he rushes back to his contacts and gathers every ounce of willpower to press on your name.

after almost painful eleven seconds you pick up. yuuji’s breathing hitches a little when he hears your sleepy “hello?”

he wants to throw himself from a window.

he forgot it’s almost 3 am.

“hi, um, hey. sorry, you’re asleep.”

what an absolute mess.

“well, not anymore,” you softly laugh. yuuji, though embarrassed, is so happy to hear your laughter.

“sorry.”

“it’s okay, yuuji. did something happen?”

well, kinda. obviously, yuuji’s not going to tell you that he’s just so down bad for you that he called you up in the middle of the night for no reason.

“no, nothing, i- i’m sorry, it’s nothing urgent, i better call you tomorrow.”

“are you sure? i mean, it’s…” he hears you scramble. “three in the morning. it has got to be an emergency.”

it is, just not a conventional one. yuuji violently shakes his head and then remembers that you can’t see him (why is he such a fool when it comes to you?)

“no, no, i’m sorry, i screwed up. i forgot that not everyone stays up late like me. go to sleep. sorry.”

“stop apologising, it’s all fine. okay, i’ll believe that there’s no emergency. but you better call me tomorrow to confirm that you’re okay.”

yuuji’s cheeks are burning.

“yeah, of course. sorry again.”

you laughed.

“good night, yuuji.”

“good night.”

yuuji’s fingers shake when he types the first message.

“sorry, i actually didn’t mean to call you.”

delivered.

yuuji’s eyes are not leaving the screen beaming brightly into his face.

read.

his palms are suddenly cold.

dot, dot, dot.

“it’s okay,” followed by a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. such a you thing to send. for a minute he contemplates going to sleep and maybe die from embarrassment in his sleep but something takes him over. before he can register it, his fingers start typing.

“fuck it”

delivered, read.

“i did mean to call”

delivered, read.

“i wanted to talk to you”

delivered, read.

“to hear your voice and your laugh”

delivered, read.

yuuji can physically feel the blood rushing away from his limbs when he sees three dancing dots.

“i want to hear your voice, too.”

yuuji’s head is spinning as he fights the urge to jump around the room while smiling at his phone like a madman. megumi and nobara for sure would be disgusted at this sight. he is so ecstatic that he almost misses the next message.

“ft?”

his long calloused fingers dance across the screen to quickly type “i’ll call you”.

he rushes to facetime.

you pick up almost instantly.

yuuji looks at your face, traces of sleep still present in your expression but he can see – and it makes his heart flutter – that you are genuinely happy to see him, too.

you both spent a few intimate moments staring at each other’s badly lit faces, glowing under the dim lights of your screens in the dark, until yuuji finally finds the courage to break the silence.

“so… did you sleep well?”

you quietly laugh and yuuji falls in love even harder though he thought it wasn’t possible. he can’t wait to tell the gang that being desperate pays off, and oh so well.

and what does nobara know anyway.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk itadori #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji x you #itadori x you #itadori yuuji x reader #yuji itadori #itadori fluff #jujutsu itadori #my fic

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roanniom · 1 year

Note

i saw that you take requests and i never saw someone write how 69 with eddie would be so i would love to hear your perspective of it in a little wip (only if you are comfortable with writing that, if not please ignore me)

Above and Below

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, teasing, dirty talk, light degradation, mutual masturbation, oral sex (both receiving) / 69, mentions of alcohol consumption

As with most things with Eddie, I could see it being born of a silly moment. You both are making out like fiends, both a little drunk off cheap beer from a night out with friends. And each other. You’re definitely both drunk on each other. Hands and lips everywhere, rolling around on the bed when suddenly both of you lean down at the same time, practically bumping heads.

“What are you - ?”

“I’m trying to - ,”

You both laugh as you realize you’re speaking over one another. Eddie places a hand on your cheek with a massive grin, one that you return.

“What were you gonna say?”

“I wanna suck your cock,” you reply, reaching down and taking hold of his hard member through his straining boxers. His stomach tenses but he laughs.

“Thanks baby but I wanted to taste that sweet pussy,” he says, bringing his hand between your thighs and cupping your wet heat. Though the action causes heat to flood through your body, you shake your head and try to push him onto his back.

“No, you ate me out last night. And you’re such a selfless asshole that you never let me suck it,” you say petulantly, jokingly at the edge of a tantrum in spite of the fact that you have his cock in your hand. Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“You’re calling me an asshole…because I always put your pleasure first…and I won’t constantly shove my dick down your throat?” He’s incredulous but still filled with humor. You shrug.

“Not really putting my pleasure first if I want your dick in my throat and you won’t let me have it.”

Eddie tosses his head back and laughs. You giggle along with him, well aware of the absurdity of the situation.

Both of your laughs die down, however, when it becomes harder to ignore the fact that your hands are still moving against each other. You reach into his boxers to tug on him with long intentional strokes and he bypasses your panties to play with your clit. It’s not long before your mouths are glued back together and your tongues wrestle for dominance. Fuck he feels good in your hand, but you want him in your mouth, a fact you’re reminded of by the delectable way his tongue plunders your depths.

“Eddie,” you whine, the first to break away. He stares at you and pants, open mouthed. You go to push him on his back and move between his legs again but he still won’t let you so you frown. “C’mon let me have it.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from you then and you gasp at the discomfort of being empty again. You watch as he sucks hour slick off, his eyes rolling back in his head obscenely.

“Not a fucking chance, babe. I’m going down on you and I’m doing it first,” he says, reaching for you. You writhe in his grasp.

“Can’t you do it after?”

Eddie’s eyes suddenly widen as if making room in their sights for the epiphany he’s obviously just had. But then his features immediately drop into a devious smirk.

“I have an idea.”

You shrug.

“If it doesn’t end with your cock in my mouth, then I don’t -,”

Eddie cuts you off with a searing kiss before pulling back.

“Okay first of all you’re an insatiable slut for me and I couldn’t love you more for it.” he says, giving you another kiss before continuing. “And second of all, take your clothes off.” He finishes his sentence by delivering a hearty slap to your ass which makes you yelp.

You do as he says, peeling your bra and wet panties off while watching his slide off his boxers hungrily. You make yourself pretty on your knees on the center of the bed, hoping to entice him, but pout when he nudges you out of the way. He lays down on his back with his head on the pillows. You try to clamber between his legs while you still have the chance but he grabs your wrists and stops you.

“Ah ah ah, Princess. You’re gonna sit on my face.”

You inhale sharply.

He’s only ever eaten you out while you were on your back. This is new territory. New enough that you feel your breathing speed up and this time you don’t argue.

Instead you crawl up the length of him and settle with both knees on either side of his jaw.

“Eager little thing, huh?” Eddie asks with a laugh, grabbing at your thighs. They tremble a bit in anticipation and you clutch at the headboard to steady yourself. “Tell you to sit on my face and that’s all it takes for you to forget about my cock?”

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you whine. “You know I wanted that more.”

“Well then you’re in luck, baby. Because this isn’t what I meant when I said I had an idea.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking down at his face, framed between your thighs and beaming. Eddie lifts his hand up and smooths it down your tummy to your mound, clearly in no rush to clarify. When he reaches the space between your legs he caresses the slick gathered there before moving up to boop your clit with the tip of his finger. You jolt at the sensation, and then jolt even more when he suddenly slaps your ass hard.

“Turn around.”

“Turn…?”

Eddie helps guide you and soon you are facing away from the headboard, giving you the perfect view of his hard cock.

“Ugh thank god,” you gasp to yourself, immediately reaching out and taking him in your hand. Eddie snorts.

“You’re acting like I deprive you or something,” he says indignantly, his hands settling on the backs of your thighs. You begin jerking him and lean down to place a kiss to his tip.

“You have, you asshole.”

Suddenly you feel Eddie slide your slick from your pussy up to the tight ring of muscle that he has yet to fully explore. You gasp.

“Eddie!” It’s an admonishment, but not too strong as you’re shocked by the thrill the action sent through your system. You crane your neck to look back at him and he’s got an obnoxious grin on his face.

“Oh I’m sorry. You said ‘asshole’ and I got distracted by my view.” He slaps your ass while you look back at him and you huff. “You’re fucking delectable.”

You shiver at the implication. You two haven’t done what you’re doing now before, but you definitely haven’t done anal of any kind yet either. The idea of breaching that barrier excites you, but maybe just one new thing a night is a better pace. So you straighten back up, slap his thigh lightly and then lick a stripe up the length of Eddie’s cock. He convulses just as you’d hoped.

“Well then eat my pussy, Eds. God knows you went on and on about it.”

“Says the girl literally drooling for my dick.”

He doesn’t hear a response for a moment but suddenly feels wetness drop onto his tip with no accompanying pressure. He groans as he realizes what you’ve done.

“That’s me. The girl drooling for Eddie Munson’s dick,” you agree happily, pumping your fist up and down his length, aided by your own saliva, before swallowing him whole.

Eddie groans deeply.

It takes him a moment to adjust to the overwhelming pleasure of you doing what you seem to do best. You move up and down for a bit before pushing further, taking him deeper till you gag.

“Jesus fucking Christ that’s good,” he moans. You come up for air and look at him between your breasts.

“Weren’t you the one insisting on going down on me first? Because I would have gladly just done this - oh.”

He cuts you of by diving face first into your cunt. He completely bypasses all teasing going straight for long, lush licks that end in a swirl on your clit.

It’s not long before he has you moaning, although it’s hard to vocalize with a full mouth. You do your best to welcome him as far into your throat as possible. The dual experience has your limbs shaking, and eventually you find it hard to continue supporting yourself above him. Eddie notices, gripping your waist and keeping you still and aloft.

When he finally pulls back, you’re on the precipice of your orgasm and his face, though you can’t see it, is covered in you. He replaces his mouth before you can miss it by thrusting two fingers inside you and crooking upwards. You gasp.

“You are an insatiable slut. Need me filling both holes at the same time, isn’t that right?”

You whine around his cock and the vibrations wreck him further. He knows he’s at the edge, so he works harder to wreck you right back.

“You’re gonna cum on my face, yeah? Feels too good, huh baby?” he mocks, knowing that dirty words really do it for you. “Don’t hold back. Theeeere, that’s it. Fuck. So good for me, Princess.”

Eddie latches onto your clit suddenly, sucking on it with a ferocity that’s got you cumin in seconds, walls tightening and pulsing around his fingers. You moan desperately with his cock still in his mouth and the vibrations tip him over alongside you.

“Fucking - oh fuck,” he breathes against your pussy as his house buck upward, briefly gagging you before he drops down, swollen, spit covered coco falling from your mouth. “Baby. Baby please…”

You understand his urgency immediately, so even though your ears are still ringing and you’re still dazed from your orgasm, you grip his cock and give him a few purposeful tugs. That’s all it takes before he’s cunning in large spurts, all over your chin, neck, and breasts. His guttural groan is delivered right into your pussy folds and you bite your lip to suppress the way the sensation makes you want to grind down on him and ride his face again into the sunset.

When his cock finally softens and he wriggles from overstimulation, you let him go and shuffle above him. When he sees your face, covered in his cum as your tongue licks away whatever it can reach - it makes his stomach flip. You smirk as you take in the affect you have on him.

“That good, pretty boy?” You ask confidently.

“My best idea yet, If I do say so myself,” he responds with the same shit eating grin.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things smut

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lumi-nescentt · 5 months

Text

Heaven Is A Place On Earth With You

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: slight sexual joke at some point

Words: 1.8k

Summary: The Max everyone knows is a lot different from the Max he is behind closed doors. That's even truer when he hasn't seen you in a while and all he wants is to spend time doing nothing with his girl.

A/N: I'm procrastinating for my finals so I'm going to try to finish all the WIP I currently have :) hope you like max being hopelessly in love bc that's what you're getting here

Max was known for being blunt, sometimes rough which on track made him almost unstoppable. However, the Max you knew was way different. He treated you with such care and delicacy, it was sickeningly sweet. From the moment you two had started dating, he had done his best to show you that he wasn't what the rest of the world portrayed him to be. That he was worthy of the affection you felt for him.

Slow mornings with Max were your favourite moments. He always woke up before you but he never dared to leave the bed before you wanted to. He didn’t particularly liked laying around but there was something about being close to you that made him want to stay there forever. You looked so peaceful cuddled up against him, he wouldn’t have dared to wake you up anyway. He much preferred admiring you until you woke up and he could finally talk to you.

When your eyes started fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was the arm around your waist. Max's hand was on your naked back, keeping you as close to him as possible. The weight of it was comforting and it was always the first thing you noticed when he came back late at night while you were already asleep, from races you couldn’t have gone to. You liked knowing that even when he was exhausted from all the travelling, he still took the time to nestle your body against his before falling asleep with you between his arms.

As soon as he realised you were awake, Max started peppering the side of your face with kisses which made you giggle and look up at him. There was something really special about the look you gave your boyfriend when you were slowly coming back to reality that he loved. It always looked as if you were falling back in love with him all over again in a matter of seconds. You had the softest look on your face and as far as heart eyes went, yours were probably the most intense someone ever had until Max looked at you with the same intensity and his entire face lit up, his eyes twinkling with pure adoration before he broke the silence and finally spoke.

-" Good morning schatje" he greeted you with a kiss on your forehead

-" Hi Maxie" you mumbled, still sleepy

-" Did you sleep well ?"

-" I alway sleep well when you're here so yes. How about you ?"

-" Great, I had the best human heater next to me."

-" Do you have anything planned today ?"

-" Nope, I'm all yours. Did you want to do anything special ?"

-" Just wanted to stay with you."

-" Do you want me to make breakfast and then we can go walk on the beach ?"

-" That sounds good."

-" Lets go then." Max said, trying to stand up from the bed but you had moved your body half on top of him

-" Schatje, if you want breakfast you're gonna have to get off me."

-" I thought you liked me on top ?" you winked, making the Dutch man blush

-" I do but I also like you alive and well fed so hop off please."

With a groan, you turned on your side, liberating Max who stood up. He tried to convince you to follow him in the kitchen but you needed a few more minutes so after kissing your forehead, Max went to cook breakfast alone. He didn’t mind doing it on his own. Taking care of you when he was here was one of his favourite things to do just to see you smile at him and have you kiss his cheek as a thank you. It was all worth it for your reaction alone.

Five minutes later, Max felt a pair of arms snake around his waist and your face pressing against his back. He still hadn’t put a shirt back on after sleeping in boxers all night. He never wore much to bed since you were always warm enough for him to sleep almost naked and not freeze. So when you pressed small kisses against his shoulder blades, he almost let go of the coffee cup he was holding, your breath tickling his skin.

-“ Behave please, schatje.” Max smiled, patting your hands that were resting on his stomach

-“ ‘m not doing anything.” you answered, tightening your grip around him

-“ Not yet but I know you might try something so if you want to eat decent food please wait until I set everything on the table.”

-“ Can’t promise anything.” Max laughed at your answer before going back to what he was doing.

Since you had moved in with him, Max found out that he actually didn’t hate slowing down for a bit and enjoying the little things. He just never had someone he loved to do it with until you came along. Now, he loved just hanging around in the apartment, bodies dancing around each other in the kitchen when you were both doing your own thing but still enjoying each other’s presence. He found solace in doing the most mundane things with you. He wouldn’t dare to say it out loud but as long as you were together, everything felt like an adventure.

Enjoying breakfast together while looking out the balcony was a great way to start the day according to him, maybe even his favourite. You were apparently in a good mood too judging by how playful you were being, stealing bits from his plate with a grin and teasingly nudging his shoulder with yours. If it had been anyone else, Max would have protested a little but there was not much he would get angry at you for so he let it slide, stealing something back for good measure.

He could have completely forgotten about the walk on the beach he had promised if you hadn’t rushed to get ready as soon as you had finished eating. He followed you with a laugh, trying not to blush at the sight of you in a pretty sundress with your hair falling down your shoulders. You looked radiant with joy and it suited you all too well. Max was glad his actions made you feel this way. In fact, he wasn’t just glad, no. Max was proud to be able to make you happy in a way no one else did because if at first he hadn’t thought himself capable of fully giving you the love he thought you deserved, he now knew that you wanted whatever he was willing and capable of giving you.

You were more than content with the amount of love you received from your boyfriend and you made sure to make it known and to return the attention because despite his tough exterior, you had been around the Dutchman for long enough to know that there was nothing that touched him more than being loved openly and freely, without conditions.

The car ride to the beach was spent in comfortable silence, Max’s hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, feeling the wind caress your face. Max tried to steal a few glances your way while he drove but his eyes never stayed long. He was way too careful when he was the one responsible for your well-being. You had tried teasing him about it to make him relax but he was adamant that as your boyfriend, he had to make sure you were as safe as possible.

You couldn’t really argue with that so you let him be, knowing that as soon as he’d be done driving, you’d be able to play around again. So the moment the car was finally parked, you were bolting out the door, screaming that the last one in the water would be a terrible loser. It didn’t take long for Max’s brain to compute but by the time he started running, you already had a good lead.

However, you hadn’t considered the fact your boyfriend was a literal athlete and that his cardio was considerably better than yours. Before you could even reach the water, Max had catched up to you and effortlessly picked you up, still going towards the sea with a grin on his face.

-“ Please Max, put me down. Don’t throw me in.” you screeched as he kept jogging lightly

-“ You should have thought about that when you cheated, you little minx.” Max responded, poking your side with his finger as you laughed

-“ But I had to, otherwise I had no chance of winning. You’re too quick for me, Mr. World Champion”

-“ Flattery won’t get you anywhere now, schatje. It’s too late”. Max smirked before dropping you in the water, jumping right behind you as you swam further away, your boyfriend close behind

-“ I hate you so much.” you lied, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying your best to swim at the same time before Max wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you even closer

-“ For the record, I might have let you win if you hadn’t cheated or made me watch you undress and run at the same time.” the Dutchman smiled, pecking your lips

-“ Who said I lost ?”

-“ You were the first one in the water, baby. That makes you the loser of your own game.”

-“ Maybe it was my plan all along…”

-“ y/n, you’re the sorest loser I know. There’s no way you’d plan to lose.”

-“ Well, I don’t care. I’m in your arms right now and we’re at this beautiful empty beach. I intend to make the most of this situation I definitely planned for and kiss you until you get sick of it.”

-“ Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Max chuckled, his whole face lighting up “ We’re going to be here for a while then because I don’t think I could ever get tired of kissing you.”

-“ Alright then, the first one to stop is a terrible loser.” you smiled with a toothy grin

-“ Schat… Are you sure you can handle another loss today ?”

-“ Bring it on, lover boy. Less talking, more kissing.”

-“ You don’t have to ask me twice.” he mumbled before pressing his lips against yours, brushing your wet hair away from your face

Maybe you lost the first game but when a family arrived at the beach and their little boy somehow recognised your boyfriend from afar and practically screamed that Max Verstappen was here, Max had to let you go. He wasn’t a fan of PDA, even less when it was around fans but in that moment, he wished he was just to erase the smug grin on your face when he lost the stupid challenge you had set.

Before heading over to see the boy, Max made sure to peck your lips. He bit your lower lip slightly, not missing the way your face flushed when he did before asking for a rematch when you were back home. You already loved how the day had started but now you were sure that the rest of it would be just as good, if not better. This was just another thing to add to the list of why being home together was your favourite place to be.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 scenario #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

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fiveht · 1 month

Text

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here.

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions?

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair.

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges.

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

#and i disappear into the night once again #turned off anon asks for the time being #sorry i love you guys i'm just awkward

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 25

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: last night I finished my paper... mostly. Need to format and cite.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at your hand, then Mr. Laufeyson’s. In contrast, his seems so big. Emblematic of the hold he has on your life. The power you can’t resist. Even if you want to. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know if you’d ever known. You only ever did what you thought was right.

He lets you slip your hand free and you turn it over, looking down at your palm. You trace a line as you feel him watching you. He wants you to speak but what can you say? You’re confused and scared and so, so tired.

“Pet, was I not clear?” He wonders, the gentle lilt frightens you more than his deep commanding timbre.

You think he was. You think you know what he wants. Just like your father accused you. Well, what else are you worth? Not just to him but anyone.

“Can…” your mouth is dry, your eyes are itchy, your head is pulsing, and your body feels hollow. “Can I think about it?”

“Think?” He echoes, “what– how long?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Laufeyson,” you answer thinly, sinking back into the pillows, “I’m dizzy. I don’t feel very well.”

“Dizzy?” He repeats you again. He hums and clasps his hand around his knee, “when’s the last you’ve eaten?”

You shyly glance up. You slant your lips and shrug. You’re uncertain. Does he really care? It hardly matters. You can’t recall when your dad ever bothered about you being fed or happy. Even if it’s pretend, it’s better than before.

“Yesterday, I think,” you twine your fingers together, “last night…”

“Yes, last night was a bit much, wasn’t it?” He tuts, “what about breakfast?”

“I had some tea,” you offer. “I’m not very hungry, just sleepy.”

“You need to eat then, you can’t think on an empty stomach surely,” he insists as he stands, “I’ll fetch a plate.”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself to the edge of the bed but he’s quick to stop you, catching your shoulder as he nudges you into the pillows.

“No, no, let me show you,” he squeezes then reluctantly rescinds his touch, “I said I would give you anything, yes? Whatever you wish or need. Let me show you that I can and you may better make your decision.”

“It’s really not–” you try to argue but don’t have the energy. Really, you’re too perplexed to come up with any protest. He’s being strangely… nice.

“I mean it, stay,” he orders as he shows his palms, “I won’t be long.”

You just nod. He spins on his heels and marches out. You scrunch up your lips and glance towards the window. It’s later than you thought. The window is dark and the moon shines down in a sliver.

What would it be like to have someone take care of you? Is that what Mr. Laufeyson means? You’re not that stupid. Inexperienced, yes, but he has been blunt. You know what he wants from you but you’re not sure you can offer it.

Clothes? Jewellry? Shiny things? All those things mean nothing. He can’t give you what you truly want but no one can. And he’s right about everything else. You have no home and whatever he did can’t have made your dad any less angry than he already was.

You close your eyes and exhale. No isn’t an option. It might knot in your chest and tickle your tongue but you’re not sure you can’t utter it. What is the alternative? You’re at the tipping point. Without a job, you can’t afford that hotel bed. Even with one, you’re not sure you can swing it. And there’s all the other expenses; all the things you need and don’t have.

Your head is ready to split in two. You could never be ready for this. You never saw it coming to this. You in Mr. Laufeyson’s bed, weighing your entire life in your hands.

Your eyes roll open as you hear him. The scent of the food precedes him and your stomach rumbles loudly. His brows rise in response as he enters. He has a plate in one hand and a wooden board under the other. He nears and sets the dish on the night table, unfolding the legs of the lap table.

He places it over your legs and moves the plate on top of it. He’s careful not to lose the cutlery in the process. It’s some of the food Frigga left, but not a dish you helped with. Salmon, rice, and a colourful medley of vegetables.

“Something to drink?” He offers.

“Um…” you look at the plate then furrow your brow at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. What would you like?”

You blink. This is strange. It should be you asking him. It should be you running around. It’s backwards. All of it.

“Water is fine.”

“Hm, yes, water, I shall return,” he declares and once more pivots on his heel.

You focus on the food as he goes. You poke the long grains of rice, then a baby carrot. You push it all around before you dare to take a bite. It’s good, very good. Better than boxed macaroni and canned soups.

Mr. Laufeyson appears again. He has a tall glass, weeping with condensation as a lemon floats on top. He sets it on the night table, sure to slip a marble coaster down first. You taste the food intensely, pushing your tongue around as he backs up. He hovers just before the foot of the bed.

You continue to eat. Tediously so. Little bites as you delay the inevitable. He won’t allow you much longer than it takes to clear the plate to give your answer and you’re filling up fast. You still the fork and swallow. You rest the silver on the ceramic rim and take a sip of water. The cold flow gives a small kick.

“What did you do to him?” You ask, voice trembling even as you fight to control it.

He tilts his head and a line ripples above his brows. He cheek dimples as he grips one hip, “whatever do you think I did to the sickly old brute?”

You frown and he puts his head straight. He drops his hand and flutters his fingers. He huffs and paces around the end of the bed, then back again.

“I only gave him a fright,” he grumbles, almost bashfully, “I am somewhat above assaulting an elderly man.”

You stare, not saying a word.

“What? I am,” he snaps, “I only told him to keep his hands to himself. In more words than that.”

You don’t know if you believe him. You want to only because you wouldn’t want to be the reason your dad gets hurt. Even if he’s the reason you are.

“Promise?” You ask.

He clasps his hands together behind his back, “sure. Yes, I swear that I didn’t touch him, right? Just a bit of ominous implication.”

You run your finger along the edge of the plate.

“Tell me you’re not lying, please?”

He’s quiet. He huffs again and taps his toe.

“Why do you care so much? He doesn’t care for you.”

“Just…” you are wilting, you feel your strength dwindling. “Tell me the truth and I’ll say yes.”

He shifts to sit on the bed, just by your legs. He looks at you in the face. You meet his gaze and he doesn’t flinch, “I did not assault him, though it crossed my mind. He had that tube under his nose and wouldn’t stop coughing. It hardly seemed a fair contest. I merely warned him that the next time, I wouldn’t restrain myself.”

“Next time?” You murmur.

“Which there won’t be,” he assures, “because I told the truth, so that is…”

He waits and points at you. You turn your head away. You believe him.

“Yes,” you mutter. “I accept, Mr. Laufeyson…” You bat away another singe of tears, the voice in your head whispering what you won’t say aloud, ‘you win’.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson clears away the dishes and folds up the small table. He leaves you for a time, stirring on the lower level as you listen cautiously. You feel a little better but your eyes are still puffy from crying and your head still has a dull tick.

You slowly stand, careful not to cause your head to ring, and move around the bed. You slip into the hallway and into the study. Inside, you near the desk and lift the bag onto the chair. You search within until you find your phone, the mostly neglected flip.

You open it and stare at the keypad. You want to call your dad and make sure he’s okay but you know you shouldn’t. You can’t. He wouldn’t answer either way. You know that. The more you think of what he did, the worse it is. Why hadn’t you realised before? There was no way to ever go back home.

“Pet?” Mr. Laufeyson startles you and you shove away the phone. You face him and lean on the corner of the desk. “I made some tea… it’s much too late for work.”

“I know, I…” you still aren’t used to this. It’s so unusual. Mr. Laufeyson’s isn’t a place of leisure or carelessness, it’s for work. “...was checking the time.”

“Late, yes,” he affirms, “chamomile, my mother left some behind.” He raises the steaming mug, “you should lay down.”

“Mmm, yeah, I…” you look away. It’s not so different as it was, is it? You’re still supposed to obey him. He might be gentler but he isn’t asking.

“Would you like a book to read? You may peruse to your pleasure,” he offers and crosses to you, close as he puts the cup on the desk, “I might have a few you may enjoy. Are you fan of Shelley?”

He takes your wrist before you can react. He leads you to the shelf near the middle of the wall as you blink and peek up at him. This is strange. You’ve never seen him like this. Almost excited, as much as he has ever been.

“Poe, of course, I’ve some Lovecraft but I find him repetitive,” he goes on, “perhaps this isn’t an evening for horror.” He’s thinking aloud, “I might have an Austen or two that you may handle. The first editions, I’m afraid, cannot be touched.” He hums as he lets you go and hovers his fingers over the row, “Mansfield Park… hm?”

He looks at you and you shake your head. You don’t know. You read the same books you read as a kid. The Secret Garden, The Little Princess, and that illustrated version of The Hobbit, the one your dad used to…

“Maybe tomorrow,” you offer, “my head hurts.”

“Fair,” he agrees, “as I said, you should lay down.”

“I know,” you murmur and back away, “I’m just… restless.”

“So drink your tea.”

“Thanks,” you return to the desk and lift the mug, blowing over it as the steam continues to furl above it, “I will.”

“In bed,” he insists.

“I wouldn’t want to spill it–”

“Well certainly you can’t have it near the books,” he reproaches, “so come.”

That’s a command. His tone hardens and you recognise him again. Oh yes, things aren’t so different after all. He’s still in charge.

You nod and do as he says. You carry the tea into the hallway but hesitate at the threshold. Can’t you just go downstairs? No, you’re tired. You continue to the bedroom and place the mug on the same coaster where he’d put the water earlier.

You fold your hands nervously and back away. You approach the window and look out onto the estate. You remember the night you rushed over here, when he’d triggered that alarm. The way he’d been so undone, how he’d grabbed you and babbled those senseless words.

He moves behind you, shifting open drawers, and shuffling around. He doesn’t say a word as your vision blurs the shadows to a sea of uncertainty. The world is distant as you struggle to believe in it. It still feels like a horrible nightmare.

“Pet,” he slithers as he comes up behind you. You flinch as he rests his hands on your shoulders, standing almost flush to you, “your tea grows cold.”

You nod and sidle away from him. He relents, a hand dragging down your arm as he sighs. He watches as you go to claim the porcelain cup. You sit on the edge of the bed and sip. It’s pleasant, not stale like the old tea bags in your own cupboard. Well, that’s not yours anymore.

You wiggle your nose, ready to cry again. It’s like your morning yourself. The old you is dead yet very much sitting there, just as powerless as ever.

“Thank you,” you say as you cradle the cup against your hand, absorbing the heat until it hurts.

“I’ve found some clothing you can sleep in,” he nears and pulls the folded fabric across the bed. A plain button-up and a pair of cotton shorts. “I’m afraid I’m not furnished for you just yet. Tomorrow we will rectify that.”

You thank him again and drown your nerves in the yellow tea. As much as your eyelids tug and your shoulders slump, as heavy as you feel, you’re not sure you will sleep through the churning in your chest. You twitch as he brushes a finger against your cheek and your sight narrows on him.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He caresses down to your chin and tilts it up. He considers you. You feel him appraising you, his eyes drifting away from your face. For a moment, his grip on you firms and his hand slides back so the crook of thumb and index frame your throat. You gulp as he bends over you. He presses a kiss on your forehead, lingering as he inhales your scent.

“Patience,” he mutters as he parts, though you don’t know if he girds you or himself.

He draws away and fixes his posting, rolling his shoulders as he turns sharply. He goes back to the dresser and focuses on the contents of the top drawer. He clucks as he snatches out garments.

“I suppose I should dress for bed too,” he drones flatly, “no doubt…” He snaps the drawer shut, “a long night.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #maid au #au #thor #mcu #marvel #avengers

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onceuponastory · 4 months

Text

ball of fluff - bucky barnes

Plot: Bucky tells Y/N how he met Alpine. Pairing: BestFriends!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (but maybe there's something more there... 👀 it's me, of course there is) Warnings: A few mentions of Bucky's past as The Winter Soldier, and how we was used and controlled without his consent. Also includes mentions of how Bucky hates himself for what he did, and the nightmares he has. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: Hey, I finally finished a WIP, hahaha. And it's another episode of "this was supposed to be a drabble but it's over 1k words."

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Morning.” Y/N smiles, walking into the kitchen at Avengers HQ. The room is mostly empty, aside from Bucky. He lounges on the couch, scrolling through his phone and laughing to himself about something on the screen. When Y/N sits beside him, he murmurs a greeting before immediately going back to laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s just Alpine.” Bucky replies. “Look, I got him a new toy mouse a few days ago, and he’s already destroyed it.” He grins, holding out his phone to show her the picture. Y/N leans in, laughing when she sees the picture, especially the satisfied look on Alpine’s face. It’s nice, seeing Bucky laughing like this, sounding so happy. Although, it is a little weird.

Because Bucky looks so intimidating usually, the master of a death glare. And yet here he is, making cute cooing noises and laughing over pictures of his cat like a completely different person from what history and the news will tell you. But she likes this version of Bucky a lot.

Well, she likes everything to do with Bucky Barnes a lot. Like the way he always makes her heart skip a beat, or how she always has a lovesick smile on her face whenever she’s around him. She just can’t bring herself to tell him that though.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Y/N asks, her brow raised. “How did you find Alpine?” Bucky’s own brows furrow.

“You’re asking that like it’s a weird question.”

“I just mean, knowing you, I thought you found him on a mission somewhere and rescued him from an evil base, from some supervillain like in James Bond.” She chuckles. “Screw damsels in distress, you rescue cats in distress!” She grins.

“What is it you actually think I do?” Bucky raises a brow, yet can’t stop another grin from tugging at the corner of his mouth. A sight that makes Y/N’s smile grow just that little wider. God, she’s got it bad.

“You know, superhero stuff.” Y/N shrugs, and Bucky chuckles.

“Well, I may be a hero, but I found Alpine in a perfectly normal way.…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

One year ago….

The room is filled with noise, and Bucky awkwardly fiddles with his gloves. He really should take them off at some point. New year, new him and all that. And, of course, being pardoned helps as well. That one might take a little longer, though. This task is small, and manageable. Although, when you have spent your entire life being used as a weapon and fighting space monsters on the regular, everything seems minor in comparison.

Right now though, it feels huge, like when they first faced down Thanos for the first time. Or when he came back to earth after being gone for five years and became a man out of time all over again.

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” The voice of a staff member makes him jump slightly. He’s still not used to this, to being noticed and to being someone, to being Bucky Barnes, rather than a weapon used and controlled without his consent. Rather than The Winter Soldier.

To be honest, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be used to it.

“Hi. I was thinking of getting a pet. I was thinking about a cat, but I’m open to anything, really.” Of course Bucky doesn’t tell him it’s because he’s so alone, and thinks he might lose his mind again if he’s alone any longer. The nights get so lonely sometimes, especially with as many nightmares that he has. Being alone with his thoughts, forced to confront what he did for so long every night, is his own personal hell. A punishment he wouldn’t wish on anyone. Maybe being responsible for another life, rather than taking it away, will be good for him.

That is, if he doesn’t fuck this up, too.

“Of course, sir.” The man smiles, beckoning for Bucky to follow, which he does. “We have plenty of cats available, from kittens to seniors. Do you have any specific breed in mind? Any age or gender?”

All the questions make Bucky furrow his brows together. Choosing a cat seems to be harder than he thought. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to just walk in and for someone to just hand him a cat, but still. “Not really.” The staff member nods, smiling.

“That’s totally fine. You’re not the first who just wants to walk around. I’ll show you what we have, and we can go from there.”

Bucky looks at every variety of cat and kitten at the shelter. They’re all adorable, but none of them feel right, like his cat. Suddenly, he sees a little white ball of fluff curled up against the corner of a cage. They don’t even move when Bucky approaches. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“That’s Alpine.” Alpine looks up, looking for whoever came to see him. His blue eyes stare at Bucky for a moment, and he cocks his head to the left slightly before burying his face back into his fur. “Sorry, he’s really shy. We’re not sure if he likes people that much.” Bucky chuckles. Well, at least he sounds like him. Bucky doesn't like people that much either. Maybe this’ll be a good match after all. “Do you want to see some more cats?” The staff member asks, but Bucky keeps staring at Alpine, watching as his little head pops up again, checking to see if the stranger outside his cage has gone.

“Hey there, buddy.” He whispers, smiling. He expects him to curl away from him again, but to his surprise, he takes a few steps forward towards him, tentatively sniffing the air, then Bucky’s gloved hand. Bucky chuckles, murmuring an “aww.” to himself as Alpine brushes his head against his fingers, nuzzling into them and purring.

“Wow! He rarely does this. You must be special.” Yet the man’s voice fades out as Bucky and Alpine make eye contact. At Christmas time, Sam and his nephews showed him that movie The Grinch, where his heart grows three sizes after he discovers the true meaning of Christmas. Originally, Bucky wrote that off as cheesy nonsense, but now he feels it happening for real as he looks at this tiny little cat. He smiles. He’s perfect.

“I’ll take him.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Brought him home about a week later, and the rest is history.” Bucky smiles.

“Oh. My. God.” Y/N gasps. “That’s so cute. Turns out you’re just a big softie deep down, huh, Buck?” She chuckles. Bucky flushes pink, and Y/N continues to grin.

“Don’t say a word.” Bucky hisses, but Y/N keeps laughing and smiling. And despite how much he wants to keep it cool, and act like it’s not affecting him, Bucky can’t help but laugh. Because she’s right. Sometimes (more often than he’d like to admit) Bucky hangs onto his Winter Soldier persona, using it like a mask to hide behind. After all, it’s better than having to meet new people all the time, and to actually make relationships with people. People who could disappoint him, or leave him when things got too hard. Nobody would ever go near him if they thought he was still like that, still an asshole who would kill you if you looked the wrong way at him.

But with Y/N… he doesn’t want to hide himself anymore. She makes him the happiest he’s ever been in a long time, and brings out the best parts of him, the parts he thought were gone forever. Her laughter rings through the air, the sound the sweetest melody he’s ever heard, and Bucky just can’t stop smiling. Y/N likes him for who he is, and despite how much he hates himself… Bucky loves the way she makes him feel.

Well… he loves Y/N more than anything in the world. But she does make him feel pretty damn great.

“You know, Alpine sounds amazing. Maybe I’ll meet him one day.” She smiles. The thought makes Bucky’s heart grow even more, this time so big it could explode out of his chest. His two favourite people, the people he loves most in the world, meeting each other.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, smiling softly. “Maybe one day.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maybe we'll see reader meet Alpine..... 👀

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #marvel oneshot #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #fanfiction #fanfic

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h0rr0rwhor3 · 1 year

Text

it looks good on you

masterlist

pairing: connor x short!chubby!female!reader

summary: (keep in mind that this is a wip that i will finish upon request!) after the android revolution and the reuniting of connor and hank, it only became a matter of time before the two were attached by the hip; whether hank was sneaking connor into crime scenes or as connor tagged along with hank while he bar hopped. as connor dealt with his curiosity and self-discovery, his emotions only got more confusing once he met [y/n], well that is, once he laid eyes on her. you would think that he and hank now being regulars at the jazz bar and café she works at would make things easier for him, but it seems to only grow his anxiousness, and even, his frustration.

warnings: size kink, dom!connor, sub!reader, uniform kink(?), sexually frustrated connor

a/n: like i had posted previously, this is a wip that i have not been able to work on due to lacking the energy and creativity to finish it. so i will leave the decision to my fellow readers on whether or not y'all would like a part 2! so if you guys would like a part two please let me know 😁! i hope you enjoy and thank you for the support on my previous smut!

it took a few months for society to recover at least a little bit after the android revolution.

protests against androids had only increased since then, many saying that the android revolution was the “resurrection of the devil”. cyberlife on the other hand had no choice but to let the deviant cases go, as the number of androids becoming deviant had increased rapidly during and after the revolution. many refunds were made to those who had immediately wanted to return androids, yet cyberlife had even requested to just let them go out, as the junkyard would only become incapable of proper cleaning at that point. cyberlife even started supplying android repair shops with extra parts, thirium, and even the more explicit parts that were originally dedicated towards eden club androids. these explicit parts were of course upon request privately.

ever since the revolution, connor really had nowhere to really go, this goes for many other androids. they had no money, clothing, shelter; so the only place connor thought of going was hank’s, as he didn’t seem to feel himself fit with markus and the others. he does not regret doing so either, as it seemed to boost hank’s mood rapidly. since then they have been inseparable, whether hank educated him on some of the best jazz songs, snuck connor into some crime scenes, or even gone bar hopping. it was a true bond.

recently both males had taken a liking to this place that had doubled as a jazz café and bar. it was android friendly which had definitely eased up connor. the owner ran the shop himself with the help of his niece.

her name was [y/n][l/n]. she was 21 and had been attending a university nearby. at least that was what connor had picked up on her. she had recently been working with her uncle as he had decided that her age was now appropriate enough to be working around alcohol. the legal drinking age was 21 after all. she had been under a few inches more than a woman’s average height and appeared more curvy. her hair framed her face in a way that almost made her appear fragile. her uniform dress reached down to her lower thighs, her short sleeves and collar outlined with a white stripe. the bottom half of her dress was pleated as her apron was tied wonderfully around her waist, defining her curves even more.

connor never identified such features actively before. hell. he’s never even spent as much time taking in the features of someone at all. when he had worked on deviant cases or looked around his surroundings it was usually a quick scan of the face and that's it. something about this woman had brought such a trance upon connor. the way she had gently moved parts of her body was such an intoxicating view. connor had no idea how to deal with these feelings of anticipation. these feelings of sublime.

hank had seemed to notice connor’s slight frustration. he had even picked on connor a few times for his obvious stares, comparing him to a lost puppy. it was hard to not notice the way he had looked at the female, you could almost see the holes his eyes dug into her, and hank wanted to put a stop to it.

“connor… look bud. it’s really not that hard. you just gotta talk to her, that’s all; ask her how she's doing, her favorite music/food… anything like that connor. just spark up a goddamn conversation with her for fucks sake. maybe even do your work with those... new fucking parts you got or some shit.” hank had been lecturing connor for the past 30 minutes now, growing frustrated with connor’s questions as he soothed himself with hard alcohol.

“well lieutenant, if it is so easy to speak to a woman, then how come you still have not m-”.

“you better not be going where i think you’re going connor. we’re talking about you here! not me. got it!?” hank immediately grew defensive with the question, causing a small smirk to grow on connor’s face.

“got it.” connor laughed softly, excusing himself to the living room as he left hank’s grumpy rambling to the kitchen.

the android settled himself on the couch comfortably as he closed his eyes, focusing on his thoughts. for once he could not analyze what the best approach would be. he could barely put together one attempt at befriending the woman. it was almost as if he was experiencing nervousness. anxiety.

no. he was nervous. he could feel his thirium pumping through his body in a way that he felt like his system would drown. it was such an foreign feeling to him, his sensors tingling at the thought of being near her.

how she would look up at him, how she would smile softly as she speaks, how she would feel when she brushes against him, how she would feel in his hands.

he could almost feel his system overheat at the thought of the sensitive sensors in his fingers brushing over the fabric of her apron, of her dress, of her skin. the way goosebumps would grow on her skin with the cold sensation of his fingers.

would her breath hitch?

would her body tremble at the ticklish feeling?

would she let out a soft sigh once the cold left her skin?

the thought of such vulnerable reactions aroused unknown feelings in connor. even though he didn’t need to breathe he felt his chest rising and falling shakily, the weight heavy on his throat. he could feel a tightening tension grow in his pants, startled by his body’s reaction.

connor was aware of the effect arousal had on humans, but has yet to experience such a thing with his own after the installation of his new parts. the feeling of restraint caused him to grow frustrated. he glanced into the kitchen, seeing as hank had passed out on the table after a few drinks; it would have been unfortunate for hank to see him in such a state.

getting up, connor made his way to the bathroom, gently shutting the door as he made his way to the lock, twisting the small knob. he thought of the best approach to handle his tension, shaking his head out of what would seem to be embarrassment.

reaching his palm to his hardening length, he gently palmed his arousal, hips bucking into his hand. his head was thrown back as he closed his eyes, guttural, soft moans leaving his mouth.

just how would she act?

would she be obedient?

would the softness in her eyes drown with arousal as she was touched?

he unbuttoned his pants.

would she be embarrassed?

muffling her sounds with the back of her palm as she was filled with him.

fuck.

would she grow a flustered expression at the thought of being with an android?

his pants and boxer briefs were pushed down mid thigh, his hand stroking his length sloppily. the sensors in his leaking cock driving him insane.

how would she sound?

how would she whimper as she's being gripped, as bruises form on her hips?

he could feel himself throb at the thought of easily manhandling her. gripping her plush hips, her thighs. the way her angelic expression would form such lewd expressions. his system stuttered as he neared his release, getting caught up in his own “imagination”.

he could only imagine how she would look wrapped in his coat.

her uniform hiked up her thighs as he towered over her.

the scent of their arousal mixed together.

the way she'd say his name.

fuck.

connor's hips stuttered as white stripes littered his hand, the lube-like substance staining his hand. his thirium pump shakily slowed down as he cleaned himself, washing off his hands.

he glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in his expression, and gave his head a soft shake.

he really needed to settle himself, and figure out a solution, because this. this is not a solution.

#dbh connor #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #dom!connor #sub!reader #female!reader #chubby!reader #short!reader #detroit become human #connor imagine #connor x y/n #connor x you #connor smut

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 11 months

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hiii, this is my first time requesting so sorry if its not clear. but could you do one where its if the uppermoons would let reader braid their hair and how it would go?? ex: kokushibo , douma , muzan fem form, the hantengu clones, etc

New style

Ahhh I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!!♡ this is such a cute idea

Warnings: fluff, kissing, physically touch with Aizetsu, the braiding style is just braids like this lol

Kokushibo

Kokushibo doesn't let just anyone touch his hair. It has to be someone he's most comfortable with, someone who he can let his guard around fully without feeling any threat. In this case, the only one allowed to touch his hair other than himself is his own lover.

Kokushibo leaves it up to you when it's time for his hair to be done. He's never made any suggestions on what you should do and trusted your judgment on what's good for his appearance. "Can I braid your hair?" You asked. Kokushibo looked over his shoulder. "I've... never had braids done on me. I will allow it if that's what you wish to do."

Kokushibo rarely shows any excitement or gratitude when you do his hair. Just sits down and let's you do what you need to do for your own satisfaction, but this time he's interested in how he'll look. You watched him through the mirror sitting with his eyes closed and his hands on his lap. He isn't smiling, but you can tell he's enjoying this.

Kokushibo kept looking at himself in the mirror, feeling the long braids that went down to his chest. "I like this.... I like it a lot. Who thought you this?" He asked. "Well, I've been braiding my own hair for a while so-" "You will teach me so I can braid your hair as well"

Douma

Douma was so cheerfully of the idea. He almost dropped all responsibility just for your hands to play in his hair. "Hey y/n, do you think you can add one of your pretty hair clips in my hair after you're done?" He practically begs with a smile, but how could you refuse? Especially when he's asking so sweetly.

Douma kept having to be reminded to sit still while you braid his hair. He kept swaying side to side, humming happily "douma please. Sit still okay? I'm almost done, " you said with some frustration but giggled. "I'm sorry y/n I'm just so happy I can't help myself. I can't remember the last time someone's offered to do my hair"

Douma watches as you gently put the finished braid over his shoulder, onto his chest, and start to do the next side. He twirls the end of his hair with his finger and then wips his head back onto your lap to look up at you. "It looks so gorgeous! Please keep going, " he said."I can put you, have to lift your head back up silly"

Douma couldn't keep his hands off his braied hair. "Thank you so much y/n I look great!" He said and kisses your cheek. "I'm happy you like it, darling. Now, let's add the hair pins. " You added the pins in his hair and then kissed his forehead

Muzan

Muzan is the one who asked you to braid her hair for a very important meeting. She wanted to look her best in her female form and admired how you took care of yourself to look presentable and ordered you to do the same for her.

Muzan sits in the chair while applying her red lipstick on yet keeping her eye on you through the mirror. "You look frightened to touch my hair. Make sure my braids aren't so loose. It would he bothersome if they unraveled," she said with a small snral. "Yes. Lord muzan"

Muzan watches you finish the single braids, going down to her back, and you finish adding the hair pins in. You step back once you are done. She got up from the chair and took a good look at her appearance from head to toe, making sure everything was perfect before she left.

Muzan walks towards you. You bowed your head , but she felt her hand pet your head. "Good work. You've met my expectations on how I wanted my hair to look, " she said, grabbing your chin to make you look at her. "You deserve a reward." she smirks and kisses you

Nakime

Nakima allows you to do her hair however you want, but the one rule she gave you is to leave the hair in front of her face alone. She's not insecure about her eye, but she prefers to keep it hidden as a way to scare off other humans and make her powers a surprise for her enemies.

Nakime wasn't too sure about you braiding her hair, but with some reassurance, she allows you to continue. "So you're just braiding all my hair back into a single braid?" She asked. "Yup. Just the hair in the back, don't worry, I'm leaving the front of your hair alone" you giggled.

Nakime blushes when she sees the happiness on your face when you braid her hair "actually. I don't mind if you use pins to pin my bangs to the side, " she said. You gasped and couldn't help the big smile on your face when she gave you permission to touch her bangs.

Nakime looks at herself in the mirror. "You make me not want to cover my eye as often now. I think I look beautiful like this," she said and reached over her shoulder to grab her braid to play with it. You hug her from behind and rest your chin on her shoulder. "You're always beautiful nakime"

Aizetsu

Aizetsu's head is a little tender than the rest of the demons. He doesn't usually let anyone touch his hair, let alone himself, but he trusts you to touch his hair since he's told you that you have gentle hands and that you're patient with him.

Aizetsu had light in his eyes at your idea of braiding his hair. His hair was always out and flowing. He only lets you brush out his hair, so the thought of having a different hair style interested him.

Aizetsu sits down between your legs for you to begin. He only makes a few grunts at the tugs on his hair but remains. He started to grow a little bord just sitting there and decided to randomly glide his nails across your ankles. "That tickles stop, I can't focuse" you joke "I'm sorry. I just got bored, so I figured I'd just play with your ankle, " he said, making you laugh.

Aizetsu turns his head to see his hair in a single braid going down to his back. It wasn't too tight, but it wasn't too loose either. "I like it. It's perfect, " he said, taking your hand to kiss it.

Sekido

Sekido refused your offers to do his hair many times. When you suggested doing braids on him, he didn't refuse. He's seen humans with braided hair in many styles but never thought to try them on himself.

Sekido sat down on the chair with his arms crossed. He complains with almost anything you did, but you just kept going. "Tsk. Why are you brushing my bangs back?" He grunts "because I'm putting all your hair into a braid. Hush, you'll love the end results," you said only for Sekido to mumble under his breath.

Sekido eventually went silent. He watches himself in the mirror, examing his new appearance. "Since I am a clone, I never thought about my appearance. I don't think none of us do. " You stopped braiding for a moment and smiled at his confression "well I think you look beautiful"

Sekido looks at his braid and then sighs. "This is stupid and a waste of time," he said but blushed. His words may not seem thankful, but his actions were. He didn't take the braid out for a week after that and would scold his brothers for trying to ruin your hard work.

Karaku

Karaku made the suggestion for you to braid his hair. "I'd be more than welcome too, but what brought the idea to mind?" You asked. He touches your two braids going down to your chest. "I like how you braided your hair. I think I'd look good with two braids, don't you think?"

Karaku wanted the same hairstyle as you. You had two braids going down yet, which lossen them to look more fluffy, so you started to do the same on Karaku. "You're really good at this. You should do my hair all the time, " he said with a big grin. "I already do that"

Karaku kept playing with some of your hair pins and sighed "y/n are you almost done? I wanna seee" he whines, getting impatient, but you only ignore his behavior, but he only complains even more just to spite you.

Karaku didn't even have to look in the mirror to know he looked good. He purposely walked past his brothers and made sure to whip his hair, almost in their face, to notice the beautiful hairstyle you did on him.

Urogi

Urogi can't do his own hair because of his talons and relys on you to wash and brush out his hair. "Why don't we try a new hairstyle. Can I braid your hair and put it in two buns at the end?" You asked a bit nervously, thinking he might reject the idea, but to your surprise, he didn't.

Urogi kept turning his head every second to see how you braided his hair back and groaned every time you pulled his hair to make his head straight. "Stop moving." You continue. "But I wanted to see, stand on the other side!"

Urogi made you switch positions multiple times. You couldn't stand still. You had to move yourself to see what you're doing since Urogi wouldn't keep his head still

Urogi carefully uses his claws to touch at his hair, then then feels the braided buns at the end. "Do you like it?" You smile. Urogi picks you up and spins you around. "I really really like it!

#demon slayer fluff #kny fluff #aizetsu x reader #sekido x reader #karaku x reader #urogi x reader #douma x reader #kokushibo x reader #nakime x reader #fem muzan x reader

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