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#why is he so boyfriend shaped in this photo
fawnchives · 13 hours
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♡𓂃 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆.
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𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, christopher sturniolo & fem!reader.
episode summary: sleepovers with your cutie pie, energetic, & borderline insomniac boyfriend.
parental advisory & ratings: fluff galore + established relationship between reader and chris, slightly suggestive, some swearing, & chris being the professional yapper he is.
♥︎ ⋆ ͘. behind the scenes. NEW LAYOUT + first time writing headcanons, i swear i’m a matt girl but chris lately? yeah.
◌ sleepovers with this man in one word? chaotic.
◌ but it’s that fun kind of chaotic — though the sleepovers usually start off pretty tame at first, him being all giggly and excited when you arrive, immediately grabbing your bags as both head to his room, catching up with each others lives while he helps you unload your stuff.
◌ with that being said, you two would end up gossiping for what feels like hours. though he grew up with all brothers, he definitely got his interest in gossip from eavesdropping on his mom and her friends.
“wait, so he’s dating her and her sister?” chris looks at you with a surprised expression. his elbows are propped up on each side of his pillow as his nintendo switch remains in the middle, paused on some sort of mario level.
“yes, but get this,” you grab your iced tea from his nightstand and scoot closer towards him. “he’s also dating her best friend. the dude is totally sleeze but hey, are we surprised?”
◌ taking pictures for your insta photo dumps.
◌ baking together! a little tradition you two decided to make after the first few sleepovers. he always make sure to pick up baking mix and other crucial ingredients two days beforehand.
◌ even though it always ends up a disaster…
“fuck fuck fuck!” chris shouts as you both race down the hallway, clothes halfway falling off your bodies from the fun that was had not too long ago. you quickly grab a kitchen towel and start fanning the smoke detector before it goes off as chris opens the oven, a thick cloud of whispy gray smoke escaping from the center.
“what the hell are you two doing in here?” nick questions as he and matt waltz into the kitchen from the living room.
“yeah, and why do your clothes look like th…” matt chimes in, face soon flushing red as the realization hits him. “forget it.”
◌ take out is usually ordered after you two nearly burn the apartment complex down, followed up by some tv or a movie.
◌ and of course, he yaps through the whole thing. you do too, which leads to neither one of you paying attention to what’s actually going on in the episode or scene.
“i don’t remember this happening,” you mumble as you lay back against of one chris’s pillows. “isn’t he from euphoria?”
◌ video games video games video games. every time you come over, this man would swear up and down that he’ll “smoke your ass” in mario kart — but does he actually? nope!
◌ he’s actually the biggest sore loser on the planet.
◌ pulling pranks on matt, you and chris know better than to mess with nick after a certain hour while matt is a little more tame. one time, while you two were in the middle of prank calling him, chris accidentally blew his cover after sneezing mid convo.
◌ doing your night routine together; skin care, hair care, etc.
◌ and if you’re the type of girl to sleep with an emotional support / childhood stuffed animal and accidentally leave it behind, he’ll snatch one of matt’s stuffed animals out his room and hand to you.
“i know it’s not the same as yours but look, it’s still cute and cuddly right? like those squishy-marshmallowy things?”
◌ matt tiptoeing into chris’s room in the middle of the night to rightfully take back his animal-shaped belonging.
◌ lowkey? nick taking off guard pictures and videos of you two being idiots and posting them on his snap and insta stories.
◌ cuddles galore. kid is actually such a snuggle bunny like oh my gosh? always cuddled up into you no matter what — especially when he’s feeling sleepy. the Baby Boy energy would be at an all time high. you’d be yapping away about some sort of friend group drama, pausing mid story when you hear him lightly snoring with his head against your chest.
“…and that’s when i told her that she should just go with the guy she was talking to before. i don’t get it, but see if i was—are…you sleeping?”
“…huh…”
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likes + comments & reblogs are highly appreciated.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 tags. @sugrhigh @sugariea @1117sblog @emssturniolo @teapartyprincess4two
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shelbyindustries · 1 year
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lewis hamilton the explorer
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heartthroblopez · 28 days
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The adorableness here is too much, I simply CANNOT handle it 😍
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rene-spade · 1 month
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my man isn’t creepy! i | f1 grid
growing up leclerc au !
fem! leclerc! reader x f1 grid, leclerc family
part i: carlos sainz, daniel ricciardo, oscar piastri, pierre gasly & kika gomes
synopsis. when the youngest leclerc finds her partners’ ‘shrine’ of her, but she’s a leclerc so the red flags aren’t all that red
WARNING(s); i like em crazy y’all, obsessive/possessive behavior, implied stalking/shrines, unhealthy relationship dynamics, sexual implications but no smut
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carlos sainz.
“What is it?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you look up at your boyfriend. The Spaniard melted, muttering a curse to himself and running his hands through his thick hair. He felt hot, nervous for what the outcome of this discussion could be.
“Dios mío, ángel, it’s— it is not what you think— nothing bad. I am just embarrassed is all.” He reassured, big hands gripping at your shoulders. But he knew it was a bit bad, even his enabling family members were worried he’d freak you out if you saw. His movements were made to comfort you, but you could tell they were more self-soothing. Arthur had a similar habit whenever you got upset with him, too.
You only frowned, but it fueled Carlos’ panic.
“Mi amor, I will do whatever you ask-! You know this. I will let you in when it’s cleaned, I swear it.” He pulled you into his chest, arms fully embracing you. But you squirmed out of his hold, making him respond with an unhappy attempt to coo you back into comfort.
“You’re hiding something in there, Carlos. This is the first time I’m staying with you in your home since we started dating, let me see.” And at the sight of your big, beautiful, angry eyes, how could he refuse an Angel? With a twitch of his fingers, Carlos unlocked the door without any movement to push it open.
With a short huff, you pushed yourself through the door, only pausing at seeing at the sheer amount of merchandise that covered every surface. It was all you-themed, from posters and cut-outs, down to a body-pillow and even an outfit you’d only worn once for a runway show. There was a glass shelf with your old perfumes, newer ones too, and photos everywhere.
“Carlos….” You began, covering your mouth with your fingers and stepping further in.
“I know—! But I liked you so much before we started seeing each other and I- I am just a passionate man is all, my whole family says so—!” You cut off his red-faced rambling with a beaming grin.
“Ouah! I didn’t know you were a super fan before we met!” You giggled, mumbling to yourself in French about the various things he’d collected. “maybe you are a bit extreme, but it’s kind of cute, no?”
“¿En serio? Sí, mi perla!” He breathed shakily before grinning, “I should have known you’d understand! Mis hermanas se burlaron de mí, ¿sabes? But it was all silly…” (You’re serious? Yes, my pearl! My sisters teased me, you know?)
“What are you saying? Your sisters… something? I’m still learning, mon chéri.” You pout at him, in a much better mood now that you knew what your boyfriend was hiding behind the door he seemed so desperate to keep you away from.
He shook his head, hair messy after having run his fingers through it many times due to stress, “We should have dinner with them tonight while we’re still in Spain, I said. Let’s go back downstairs?”
“Why? Got anything weird?”
“Don’t say things like that, amor!”
♤ ♤ ♤
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daniel ricciardo.
“Danny…?”
“Shit-!” He jumped out of surprise, dropping the box he was reaching from the top shelf of the closet.
“Oh, I’m sorry, mon soleil!” You squeaked, jumping back as well. You hadn’t meant to scare him, but it wasn’t your fault he was so focused in the dead of night. You were just curious is all. The box he dropped was was rectangular in shape, but easily bigger than a shoebox. You shot him a sleepy grin, “What do you have there?”
He sighed, shaking his head, “Why are you up, sleepy girl? Get back to bed, I’ll be right there. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I’m up because you’re up.” You wrinkled your nose, inching closer to him with a small blanket in your arms. You tried to get a glimpse of what fell out of the box, but Daniel wrapped himself around you so you couldn’t see. He wrestled the blanket from your fingers, careful not to be rough with long nails, and threw it over your head with smile.
As you wrestled, your boyfriend only laughed and placed kisses on any part of you he could without being hit by your flying limbs, “Pretty things like you should be asleep. Your brothers would kill me if they knew I disturbed your beauty rest.”
“Are you trying to hide something from me?” You pulled the blanket off your head, hair a mess.
Daniel froze, jaw clenching as he tried to hold a toothy smile. But he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. The moment was completely still, before you finally broke eye contact and crept passed him to see the mess on the floor. You could hear Danny gulp as you plucked the first item from the ground; a pretty, navy blue set of lacy underwear. Yours, yes. But from ages ago, you swore you lost them. Then there were a few pieces of jewelry, a lipstick tube, a silk scrunchie, a press-on nail, a red heel, and two pieces of now-hardened chewing gum. All yours from various points of this past year.
“Daniel,” no, not the first name, he begged internally, squeezing his eyes shut, deciding to just wait for the inevitable disgust and rejection. You never called him by his full first name, only sweet ‘danny’s his way, sometimes ‘mon soleil’ or ‘sunshine’.
“You know you can just ask for my things, yes? You don’t have to take.” You were looking right up at him, navy colored panties still in your hand like you didn’t even mind that he took them. His reasoning couldn’t have been pure, you know that.
You hummed, pulling at his fingers so you can shove the underwear into his balled up fist, “lá.”
“Perfect girl.” He muttered, pulling you back into him and dragging you to bed, “give me the pair you have on then, yeah?”
♤ ♤ ♤
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max verstappen.
It wasn’t always like this with you— you used to be just Charles “track terror” Leclerc’s pretty little sister, a little girl. But now it was years later and you’ve become something perfect and irresistible— something he can’t live without. He knows he’d resorted to some immoral, if not a little creepy, behaviors, but it’s not like he’s one of those guys that would ever hurt you. No, you’re a deity to him. He told his sister about his feelings at one point (even thought about showing her the shrine), but she told him— “This is all because you watched You!” The Netflix show that follows a stalker.
So he took down the shrine— moving most of it into his bedside drawer and the rest under his bed. But he realized he didn’t think it all the way through when he had you in his room for the first time; all pretty and perfect and curious.
“Good race, Maxie.” You hopped back onto the bed, your hair bouncing as you landed, “You’re so tense and for what, huh?”
Max had just a little bit of shame about the whole thing, but maybe not too much. I mean, his body definitely felt some kind of physical guilt or something if you’re judging him by the shaking and sweating— but his mind was happy. You were here with him in his home. In fact, the physical reaction might just be from seeing you curled up in his bed. But you’re close to finding out how… intense he was. (As his mother would say.)
“Sorry, lief, I’m just tired and you’re distracting me by being cute.” He smiled down at you as he began to change, “you need a shirt to wear?”
“Yes, s'il te plaît. Hey, can I put my bracelets in here—? oh!” He’d barely turned his back for a second, just long enough to remove his shirt, but that’s all it took for you to pull the drawer open and see the copious amount of photos of you (some edited to have him in them) and unsent love letters.
“It’s not a shrine— I’m not a creep! It’s just some things I made back before we got together—! You weren’t supposed to see them!” He was trying to shove some of the papers back in, but you were already skimming one of the letters.
“Mijn hart,” he winced at seeing the one you had— one of the more unhinged ones. The worst of it was in Dutch, so that worked out for him at least.
“Oh c’mon, Maxie! It’s kind of sweet! You had such a big crush on me! It’s a little hot, even.”
He grew even more red and fidgety at that, “Shit.”
You giggled at the words you could understand before he wrestled the page out of your grip. You grabbed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could stray too far.
“From Max Verstappen-Leclerc, hm?”
♤ ♤ ♤
oscar piastri.
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“Can’t I just grab a hoodie, Osc?” You questioned as he held you in place on the counter, from his spot between your legs, still in his race suit.
“You don’t need one, Lovey, it’s hot.” He pressed himself into you so he could feel you breathe better. You’d asked for a jacket the moment you’d entered his freezing trailer just after the race. He saw you go for the closet and quickly redirected you onto the counter.
“Non, you’re hot because you just raced in a little car for hours and now you’re all over me. I am normal temperature.”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“Then get closer, I’m hot.”
You huff obnoxiously like the pretty spoiled girl you are and Oscar can feel the rush of serotonin he got just from the sound. He knew this is the part where you’d get cute and pretend to pick a fight, his sweet thing. But bad timing— he’s desperate to hide his secret now.
“I can’t get any closer to you if I trieddd. What? You have a girl hiding in that closet? Hm?” He scoffed into your shoulder, but stiffened, knowing just what was behind that door.
You gasped dramatically, likely playing it up to get what you wanted (a tactic you used with your brothers, Oscar noticed), “You do! Irréelle!”
“I don’t!” His face shot up from your shoulder, brows furrowed, but he didn’t let you go, “You know I don’t like any other girls!”
“Then you need to show me so I can be sure! And I’m still cold.” You crossed your arms and pulled your knees together to get him to back up.
“I can’t.” He choked out. “There’s— it’s just— I have this thing—”
You hopped down and booked it across the trailer before he could reach out and stop you, yanking the door open to see what your new boyfriend was hiding.
You breathed out a dramatic sigh of relief at the sight, “Goodness, Osc.” Rather than finding a person, you instead found some sort of… collection? Collage of yourself and your things? Photos mostly, magazines, and lots of hearts drawn on articles about you.
Oscar grabbed you by the shoulders and quickly spun you around into him, slamming the door, “You saw?”
Looking up at him with big eyes, you nodded, “Yeah, why? You really like me that much?”
“What? Yes— yeah I do. You—? Okay.”
♤ ♤ ♤
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pierre gasly. | kika gomes.
“I’m prepared to blame you for this if Charles finds it.” Pierre breathed, looking at the start of his girlfriend’s collection of your things. Kika scoffed, a smile playing at her lips as she re-organizes your makeup. Mostly lip balms, you’d let her borrow some of your things, not knowing she wasn’t going to give any of it back. Kika even managed to get a few skirts from you as well. The small framed photo of you sitting in her vanity was just a personal touch.
Pierre would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed, but he could say he wasn’t surprised. He and Kika were a good couple, a good duo in general, but especially when it came to drawing you in. Because Pierre was such a good friend to Charles, it came pretty easy; Charles was easier on him around you. Unfortunately, that grace didn’t extend to Kika just because they were dating. Charles had something of a sixth sense for when pretty girls liked his pretty sister; so he was on to Kika. Where at the beginning it was nothing to get you alone with them, it was now next to impossible.
“Pierre? Kika? Are you home?” Wow it’s like they could hear your pretty voice— oh wait they gave you a key. To their apartment. In Monaco, where you live and you can really just waltz in and see all of the things they took (—yes they, Pierre is a thief too—)
Like two naughty school children, the couple shot up to cover what they’d done before you could reach their bedroom. This was their fault naturally, none of yours at all, they were the ones who encouraged you to come over whenever physically possible.
“Grab everything and I’ll distract her!” Kika whispered, rushing to slip out of the room.
Before the ‘not fair-’ could slip from his lips, his girlfriend was off to catch you, brushing passed him and leaving the door cracked. He could hear your surprised greeting, a cute squeak escaping you, before Kika saying something like ‘Oh, Pierre is busy now’, then silence. Pulling the handle back just an inch, he peaked outside to see Kika’s lips not even a centimeter from your own, her hands gripping your jacket for dear life.
“Oh, pretty girls, ce n'est tout simplement pas juste.” Slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. Your eyes shot to his, but Kika’s remained trained on your face. After just a second, your gaze drifted to Kika’s vanity behind him.
The couple froze, you saw. Pierre pulled the door shut behind him as Kika’s mouth opened to form words.
“Oi! Get your hands off my little sister, huh? Démon impoli et pratique, seriously.” Charles slipped into the living room from the front hallway, having obviously accompanied his little sister in her visit.
“Non, Charlie, Kika helped me when I almost tripped.” You smiled at your brother, quickly covering for them, “I was just coming to see if I could get my jean skirt back?”
You looked up at her so sweet and she thinks you’re blushing—“Oh.” She squeaked, “yes, no problem. Pierre.”
“I’ll get it for her, mate.”
“surveille ta copine. je ne suis pas aveugle, mate.”
♤ ♤ ♤
Your man (s girlfriend) is definitely creepy, girl.
note; I made kika and pierres a lil longer bc they’re two ppl so yeah ft charles
thinking part ii with lando, mick (ft the schumachers), lewis, lance, alex & lily, george and carmen?
- ren
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Rigor Mortis (part 1)
College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
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(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,
Prologue, Part 2
summary: After the breakup, you move into a new place.
warnings: no warnings! cheeky bit of angst at the end
a/n: this is me admitting that realistically, miguel would be sick of our shit.
Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3
Join my taglists here <3
wc: 4.2k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
or in the cold, crisp morn:
"These are the keys," Your new landlord hands you the copies, clinking against each other as you transfer them to a dish by the door. Your first thought is that there seem to be too many for this modest apartment: of varying shapes and sizes, and at least half a dozen. He steps through a wide archway to the kitchen, eerily clean. It's not modern by any means,  the top half of a hulking brownstone some time away from college.
It’s been… a trying summer. Moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend had seemed like a great idea at the time. Younger you (barely 2 years ago) had been enamoured with the promises of city life: fast-paced, bustling, and never a dull day. Naivete and big ideas that you'd been too stupid, or maybe too desperate, to let go of. After being locked in a loop of the same 3 or 4 places, the same dozen faces - in a place as big as this, mind you - maybe your ex-boyfriend had freed you. Forced you from that halfway-home; as cold and empty as it had become; and back out into the world. 
The reality was less than ideal - apartment hopping across the city for the past 4 months or so. You’d seen it all: glorified shoeboxes, fancy duplexes, viewing sublet rooms that were at least a little illegal. A box within a box within a box; coat closets rented out for double your monthly take home; and you had just about given up.
So this place seemed like a godsend: a brownstone, tucked away. Its interior is dated, but gorgeous. It had character: quirks and rich history in the brick and mortar. A fireplace tucked into the corner, window alcoves, wood panelling. Yes, the wallpaper was slightly warped with damp  but it’s affordable - a reasonably priced gem that had made you jump when you saw the ad. With the overexposed and pixelated images, they didn’t do it justice.
You pad into the kitchen, running your hands on the smooth countertops. They’re bare and spotless - suspiciously so. Not many personal items, no fridge magnets, photos; nary a blanket on the sofa or half eaten plate of toast on the worktop. It’s so clean it feels staged, and it makes you squint. Isn’t there meant to be…
“I let Miguel know… he must’ve cleaned up the place-”
“Miguel?”
“The other tenant.” He pauses, boots clicking on the grain of the floorboard. “I don’t think he’ll be back until later tonight. Should give you some time to settle in.” 
Nodding, you give him a small smile, and he steps out of the apartment. Your apartment.
~~~
You fill the rest of day with unpacking, putting some life into the place. You’d visited not long ago, fantasising about how you’d decorate. Something about sharing an apartment with your boyfriend for the past 2 years had done something to you: flattening and squeezing into a space not built with you in mind. How Jamie didn't like things on the walls, or how he needed the space for his textbooks, so why don't you find somewhere else to put your little stories? If his desk took up half the front room, then that makes sense, he needs it for work. But God forbid you needed a quiet space to study; what if the guest bedroom has your shit everywhere when his friends come over? A million compromises that didn't seem much like compromises: you'd give an inch and he'd take a mile. And so, the space to spread your wings without knocking over a gaudy plaque or two was very much appreciated. 
You want to walk around the neighbourhood, map out the convenience stores, bodegas, community hotspots and hubs. Where's the best place to get a drink? The cheapest meal? Your usual haunts were a fair distance away, so maybe you'll make the trek and pick up waffles from Pam's, as a treat. Tired already, you slump on the sofa - a tattered old thing that can clearly take a beating. Looking around the place, something settles solidly at your chest. Contentment, maybe, a strange feeling considering the past few months. This will do, you think. This will do. 
Perhaps it's not a very feminist thought, but you're not thriving . Thriving felt presumptuous, and yet coping seemed too complete a word - its implication too tidy, too neat. A mess, before; better, now…? And it didn't quite span the width and depth of the past few months; how long it had taken for the numbness to make way to anger, hot and intense - its flame fueling many a long night. And yet, maybe coping was just the way to describe your foray into this new chapter: a new year, new apartment, and whatever that brings. You had forgotten what it felt like to be alone; not lonely, but with only your own self for company. Without the ache of another person, for the first time in a while. 
…except, you had a roommate. Which you had known when signing the lease, of course, but it's taken some time to sink in. What that means for you - a new person to tiptoe around and appease - you're not too sure yet. What is he like? He's out late, so maybe a chronic partygoer - sloppy drunk and vivacious, the life of the party. He might clatter into the apartment, chattering and bubbly. What do you know about him? From the apartment, as is, it doesn't tell you much. At first glance, it had looked too clean, but not unreasonably so if he had anticipated your arrival. No, it was the lack of personal effects that confused you. How long has he been living here and there aren't any pictures or knick knacks? To clutter is to be human, you think. And with the front room as blank as it is, you wonder just what kind of man he is. 
It's getting late. Naturally, you do some snooping, lazily padding around in search of life. Onwards and upwards, to new frontiers: the cupboards and drawers in your new apartment. 
He likes coffee, you learn. There's a fancy machine on the kitchen counter, glossy and shiny and clearly taken care of. Little packets of beans and filters line the cupboards, all with names you can't quite pronounce. The fridge is similarly well-stocked, with none of the junk food you've gotten accustomed to in the past few months. Its innards are leafy green and plush; labelled tupperware with leftovers notwithstanding. All the spices in a tray above the oven and fancy knives on the wall tell you he likes to cook, or rather, he likes to eat well. The lack of junk would take some getting used to - maybe he's a health nut? The type to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, to blend oddly coloured smoothies, and "reflect" after a long day of… dog walking or something. 
You move on to the living room, running a light hand over the deep walnut of a side table behind the sofa. Again, it's oddly bare. When you tug at the drawers, it's brassy handles are solid. Locked. Kneeling, you run a hand across the larger cupboard door at its base. You pull at it, and it pops open with a click. Inside, it seems empty, save for a dusty box nestled in the back corner. With your top half almost completely inside its depths, you move it into the light. 
It's old, a battered shoebox adorned with coloured sharpie - shaky drawings of flowers blossoming from its sides. The cardboard crackles when you open it. It's full of junk, mostly: half-dead pens, broken crayons, dried flowers, and little plastic toys - the kind you get from cereal boxes and happy meals. And, there's something peeking out. Confused, you dig a little deeper, to uncover a pair of… soccer cleats? They're tiny, clearly for a kid but seem barely worn, with minimal scuffing on the plastic blades. 
"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice from above rumbles, and your head snaps up like a rubber band. You hadn't noticed the door open, and you are met face to face with, who you assume to be, your roommate. 
He doesn't shout: tall, broad, and back straight by the door. He's got a backpack slung over his shoulder, dressed in a crisp white shirt and slacks. His name was… Miguel? Miguel crosses his arms, brows furrowed in quiet rage. Fuck. 
"I was just looking for.. uhh…" 
You know how it looks. It's the worst time for your brain to go blank, and you're left holding the hypothetical bag. You stand up a little too quickly, and smack your knee on the lip of the table. Half of the box spills onto the floor and you dart downwards, embarrassed. 
" Shit. Sorry, let me-" 
He leaps towards the floor, and you're forced behind him, as he scrambles to put everything in its place. You start to help and he stops, stock-still. As if in slow motion, his head turns to the side and he gives you a look that could kill thousands. Retreating, you shrink back, only able to watch helplessly. 
" Chica tonta... ¿se crió en un rancho? ¿qué clase de persona entra en casa de alguien y toca todas sus cosas?" He's muttering something under his breath - too fast and not saying anything you can understand. Pausing, he throws you a look. "...y luego me ve como si yo fuera el que está mal- ojos grandes y bonitos como de perrito pateado...oh dios mío.-" 
[silly little girl… was she raised in a barn? what kind of person walks into someone's house and touches all of their stuff? // and she looks at me like I'm the one in the wrong - big, pretty eyes like a kicked puppy… oh my god-] 
He's gentle with the box, the way he puts it in its place contrasting his mood a couple of seconds before. He closes up the door and you stumble to your feet. In the glow of halogen bulbs, he follows, arms crossed like a mother hen. 
"I think… I think I'm your new roommate?" You say your name and  stretch out a hand, but Miguel doesn't move. You watch as his eyes sweep over your body, shameless. 
"Are you asking, or telling me?" He sighs, pinching at his temples. 
"...Telling?" You offer him a weak smile, and he cracks.
Softening, ever so slightly, he grumbles. "I know. I know. Mr Estévez said you would be in tomorrow, though."
"I like to be early." 
"Right. Well… don't do that. Again, I mean." He clears his throat. "Don't touch my shit either. It's too… fuck , it's too late for this. I'm going to bed."
He kicks off his shoes, and all you can do is watch as he saunters off; the door to his room shutting with a resounding slam .
~~~
His name is Miguel O'Hara - not that he told you that, or anything. He hasn't spoken to you much at all, leaving you to figure out who he is and what he does from vague clues around the apartment. You don't go snooping , learning quickly from previous mistakes; but his full name on a letter slotted through the mail was fair game, you think. The most you've gotten out of him were grunts and frustrated requests to keep to your shelf in the fridge. 
Passive-aggressive wasn't in his vocabulary, you’re convinced. A plethora of dirty looks in his arsenal? Sure. Plenty of vulgar swears in Spanish? Absolutely. Miguel was not, however, passive-aggressive. Just… aggressive. Not angry, of course. Upfront. Abhorred any passivity and indolence: umm-ing and ahh-ing for the sake of it. 
So naturally , you were sent to kill him. 
You tiptoe around the apartment, avoiding him at all costs. At first, it wasn’t on purpose, just the awkwardness of your first meeting bleeding into the next week. But you dodge and weave like an expert boxer -  particularly impressive in the small space. Miguel’s in the kitchen? Suddenly, you’re not very hungry. He’s curled up on the couch for a movie? Wow, look at the time: and you're heading to bed. You can’t read him very well, and don’t trust yourself enough to look him in the eye without fear of melting under his gaze. The few short interactions you have, you crumble; a brush against his shoulder in the kitchen, or legs against his on the dining table. Not that Miguel offers a peace branch, pursing his lips when you’d make eye contact, somewhat frustrated at your theatrics. Call it cliche: you’re avoiding confrontation at all costs. It manifests itself in peculiar ways: the Shower Incident being the most memorable. 
The Shower Incident, aptly named, happened not too long ago. The apartment is old , as you soon learnt, coming with its own plethora of quirks. What you had first taken as character and charm - window seats and wood panelling - also came in the form of a building half falling apart. Creaky floorboards, leaky pipes, and a distinct lack of central heating. The discounted price, that had seemed like a bargain before, clearly lacked some creature comforts… like heating. And a working shower. 
As you’d been in a rush, you clattered into the bathroom; stripping in no time at all. Bare feet on the tile, and you turn the knobs at the base of the shower unit. You’re not going to pretend you know how it works, just yet, but… it’s not rocket science, is it? The brassy spout sputters; but with no luck. Groaning from the pipes makes you jump, before huffing in frustration. This is not the time; late to yet another 9.00am? You want to be different this year: organised, put together, and on time to your lectures. On your tiptoes, you peer down the shower head hesitantly, like it’s the barrel of a loaded gun. With cruel irony, it sputters to life, sending a face-full of ice-cold water your way.There’s a scream, as you scramble at the handles, scurrying out of its brunt; desperately trying to turn it off. 
Unbeknownst to you, Miguel leaps out of his room towards the shouting, with a fumble and clunk of his feet on wooden floor. He’s quick , hand hovering on the bathroom door before you can register it; his voice echoing outside. 
“Are you…” There’s scuffling, which you can just about hear over the pounding of the water against tiles. “Are you okay, in there?”
You wince, stepping out of the shower – legs shaky like a baby deer – as you gurgle. “...Yeah?”
“Can I –” He clears his throat. “Are you.. clothed ? Can I come in?”
You scramble for something to cover yourself, settling for a plush towel on the rack. Wrapping yourself up, you brace yourself for the grimace that's sure to be on his face. Tentatively, you crack the door open. There Miguel is, face knitted with worry. 
There's a flash of confusion at the scene, and then, what you think is relief. Relief you haven't cracked your head open, most likely: the blood would be hard to clean from the grout. You feel guilty, as you've probably broken it, or touched something you shouldn't. The shower is still on; sputtering, starting, and it becomes a strange sort of background music to your silent exchange. 
"I don't know how to use the shower." You say with a small voice, guiltily. 
" No me digas…" No shit, he mutters, face back to the furrowed brow you're starting to become more familiar with. He sighs, easing up. "You hurt?" 
You shake your head, and swear you see a small smile on his face. You looked like a waterboarded rat, probably: big watery eyes and shaking with the sudden cold. 
A mess , he thinks. But not a bad view. 
He's still in workout clothes from his morning run, compression shirt and lazy shorts that hug his ass on; as he turns towards the shower. With some sense of shame, you try not to stare, to not watch the muscles of his back and arms flex as he angles the shower head away from his face. It's not enough that you've embarrassed yourself – twice, in the space of a couple of days – but the fact it was in front of your roommate, who is maybe the most beautiful person you've seen up close. Which, granted, narrows the field; but Miguel is gorgeous, a flash of pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates, wide palms toggling the dial. 
"You need to be careful… push it in slightly when you turn the-" You crane your head towards his movements. "Come closer, or you won't see what I'm doing."
You move towards him, half naked and shivering, trying not to buckle with the heat of his body next to yours. This is what you get for not having spoken to a man since your ex: a tight coil at the base of your stomach for someone that you've done nothing but unwittingly terrorise for the past week.  
He explains, patient and even-tempered; how to use the shower and you half-zone out to the low tone of his voice. There's no malice, or pomp in his words when there are a million things he could make fun of you for - that Jamie may have made fun of you for. You look up, at the sharp lines of his face, and chew at your lip, deep in thought. 
"...and this side is for hot water. Next time, just ask me – instead of almost drowning."
You nod, embarrassed. "Sorry."
"...For what?" He says, softly. "Place is falling apart, anyway. It's not really your fault." You're convinced everything you touch in this house breaks, but with the way he looks at you, you believe him. 
"Just ask me, next time." He echoes and makes for the door, stopping to drag his eyes up and down your frame. Oh… oh. You like that, the way he looks at you shamelessly, practically undressing you. 
He smiles, amused at your deer-in-headlights expression. 
"...I think that's mine."
He nods to the towel wrapped around your body and your eyes bulge out of their sockets. " Fuck , I didn't realise-" 
He shrugs, noncommittal. 
"...Seems like you need it more than me, anyways."
~~~
It's a rough first couple of days, and then a week, and then two. The rhythm is all off: like the jerky stop and start of an old car. He wakes up early to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, and you stay up late to finish papers and assignments. He has a job, you think, darting out at the same time once or twice a week in smart clothing and a backpack. Sometimes, you catch him hunched over a laptop or scribbling something in a beat up old notebook. Maybe, he’s a student - even if he doesn’t seem quite like the fresh-faced 19 year olds you see around campus. Although, you suppose it’s not implausible; you were one of the older people in your classes, after all. It’s hard to imagine O’Hara, stony-faced and serious, at a… dorm party, or something. To be that carefree, he’d need to get rid of that stick up his ass, first.
You’ve got a day off from lectures, using the time to catch up on the reading you should’ve done over a hectic break. The list seems to go on and on, already, this early into the year. Internally, you’ve made a promise to be on top of it all - the little hiccup with Jamie, notwithstanding. You’d knuckle down this morning, reading ( scanning) and summarising ( liberal use of the copy-paste function) in preparation for the rest of the semester. Miguel’s locked up in his room, somewhere, so you use the opportunity to spread out onto the dining table.
There’s a knock at the door that makes you look up from the muddle of words on your screen.
When you open the door, there’s a woman there with a notebook in hand. She’s pretty, in a classic sort of way, ginger braids cropped to her shoulders and lips slathered with gloss. Her outfit is relaxed, but carefully curated: a tight jumper and long brown legs stretching out from a black skirt. 
“Hi.” She says, visibly keening. It’s clear she wasn’t expecting you, but she quickly recovers and gives you a blinding smile. 
“...Hi,” Honestly, you’re a little confused. You haven’t seen her around the complex before; so who she was, you hadn’t a clue. Too pretty to be a door-to-door salesman, and too hot to try to convert you to Mormonism, you think. Whatever that means.
You wait expectantly, as a beat passes. 
“Oh!” She laughs, and it sounds like puppies and rainbows, much too bright and airy considering the time of day. It makes her next words even more of a shock. “I’m looking for Miguel.”
With her last words, she steps a little closer; scanning the apartment from her vantage point. Something in you bubbles up, but you try to choke down the laughter. 
“You’re looking for...Miguel?” Even out of your own mouth, it sounds absurd . The man had no friends, as far as you could tell. He seemed like the type to lock himself away in his enclosure, only stepping out for work, school, the bare minimum. In the short week that’s passed, his ‘enrichment time’ had consisted of a dry documentary on spider mating cycles - which had been a shock to walk into, the first time. 
So someone here, at the apartment? Looking for him? Fidgeting, you scratch at your neck. “Uhh, I ca-”
“Sorry about that, Jia. You can have a seat.” His voice comes from behind you, and Jia breezes into the apartment, perching on the sofa. Legs crossed, she reaches into her bag, taking out a laptop and a pen and paper. He’s changed out of his workout clothes, donned in a loose white sweater and casual trousers - relaxed, for once. With a limp thud, you close the door. There’s an odd feeling as you look around at the scene: tension, and you feel like you’re interrupting. Miguel clatters around in the kitchen, fumbling for mugs and coffee filters and God knows what else.
“...was it two sugars, or three?”
“Three!” She throws over her shoulder, tapping away at her open laptop. “I like it sweet, Miguel.”
You squint. He laughs : a small chuckle that comes with a heat at the base of your stomach. Your head almost aches, trying to recalibrate; reconcile with the version of the person you’ve barely seen around the apartment to now - present, engaged, and personable. Exasperated is the only word for it. Miguel O’Hara was, in fact, capable of joy. Dickhead.
He barely acknowledges you, but Jia does; batting her wispy eyelashes in your direction, curious. The tapping stops, and she curls the corner of her mouth up with a hint of a smile. 
“You gonna introduce me?” She calls out to Miguel, and then smiles to you; warm and genuine. It makes you feel a little more at ease. You catch the end of a sigh coming from the kitchen.
“Jia, this is my roommate.” He glances up to gesture towards you. “...this is Jia. I… help her out with work, sometimes.”
From the couch, she rolls her eyes. “He’s too modest. He’s my tutor, technically.”
With that, your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything you’d imagined him doing, tutoring students wasn’t one of them - especially considering he seemed barely out of college himself.
“...Technically?” 
“He doesn’t like to advertise it, because he’s picky with his clientele.” She giggles and he scoffs. You get the feeling there’s a joke flying over your head, just out of reach. “Word gets out on campus that Miguel’s tutoring again…”
“ Vale, vale ,” He grumbles, but his tone is good-natured and light. “S’enough, Jia.”
She gives you a wink, before turning towards her work.
You walk towards your things, still on the dining table. He’s got his head buried in a kitchen cabinet and you look on, wanting to ask a lot of things. The words seem to die in your throat: too big, too small, not the right shape. She's a stranger; that knows where the coffee’s kept and the best spot on the couch. That makes Miguel laugh . You want to ask him about the stranger in your home; but you’re too scared he’d turn and point the finger at you.
He walks to the couch, balancing two cups of coffee. You look back. Next to him, her presence is an oddity - a blip in his carefully crafted universe. With the warm sheen of familiarity, she nudges his shoulder. Taking careful sips, he pointedly ignores her, tapping a finger at her screen - as if to say, pay attention. She smiles, wide; an asteroid across the depths of space, dazzling and brilliant in the night sky. 
The exchange… it makes you think. If Miguel is the Sun, and Jia, a bright body in orbit: what’s your place in this four-walled cosmos? Where do you belong? 
_
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Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs
@teacoffeeflavored @chuuyara@qiapia@rotten-zombi3@bonbyon @tianyhi @noelsilly @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @peachsteven @thesquidni@fatenpara @verr-uckt @kurakasabe @kamiko32 @mushy-mushroom04@izzys-hawttea@theandromedastar @wicked-futures @truthuntolddd @prettygirlpattinson @hellokittylover202 @angel-eyes05 @lacedinweb22 @starguiders @buggiecrawls @eugeab @tarjapearce @whoreloll @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @ancientbeing10 @shartythefarty@royalhearts
@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook
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orphicdreamers-wp · 3 months
Text
Something In The Orange — Luke Hughes
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Summary: In which while cleaning out his bedroom at the lake house, Luke convinces himself that your relationship isn’t over.
Content Warning; Angst with a happy ending, Luke kinda being a dick in flashbacks, mentions of a breakup, sad luke & reader, flashbacks in pink, Quinn & Jack plotting.
Pairing; Luke Hughes & Reader
Coming back to the lake house had been hard for Luke. Especially coming back without you by his side. You two had been together since freshman year of high school. The first summer that Quinn and Jack had the lake house was the first time you went with Luke. You two spent that summer in bliss, which led to you practically living there with them during the summers. Quinn had set ground rules that you were the only girl allowed to spend the night at the lake house.
But you and Luke had broken up in February, on Valentine’s Day as your luck would have it. You had been stressed with your clinical exam for your pharmacy tech program and had expected that night to be a time to relax. You and Luke had never done anything extreme for Valentine’s Day. You usually ordered take out and watched a cheesy romance movie. You entered your shared apartment and began to remove your shoes and socks and made your way to the bathroom and began to peel your scrubs off and tossed them on the floor.
You let the hot water rake over your body and wash the stress off of your shoulders. You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your body as you made your way into the bedroom. You dried off and pulled one of Luke’s UMich hoodies over your head, slipped into a pair of sweatpants and fuzzy socks before climbing into the bed and opening your laptop and turned on the most recent episode of Gilmore Girls as you reached on the beside table for your glasses. You had nearly fallen asleep when the living room door slammed.
You jolted upwards as your boyfriend entered the bedroom. He was dressed in a freshly pressed suit with his curls framing his face perfectly, “Hi baby, you look nice.” Luke scoffed as he undid his tie, “I looked nice an hour ago when our reservations were. Why are you home? You were supposed to meet me there, I left you a voicemail.” You frowned as you reached for your phone, checking it and finding no voicemails or texts from him, “I don’t have any message from you Luke, I didn’t know.” Luke scoffed, “Bullshit. You could have sent me a simple text saying you weren’t feeling dinner.”
You rolled your eyes, “I wouldn’t have said that, I didn’t get your message. Don’t turn me into some evil person because your upset!” Luke ran a hand through his hair, “I’m not doing this with you. I can’t, you’ve been somewhere else all year since school started. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t prioritize me.” You felt your throat tighten, “So what? Your breaking up with me because of a miscommunication? That’s what I get from you after 5 and a half years? Seriously Luke?” Luke shook his head, “I just can’t be another one of your things Y/N. I can’t.” You sniffled as you stood up and reached for a duffel bag in the closet and began cramming clothes into the bag along with your school stuff. You shook your head as you walked into the living room and put your shoes on. You walked out of the apartment without another word
Luke sighed as he entered his bedroom at the lake house. He hadn’t been back since the previous summer, so he knew your touch would be lingering over him. He was proven correct as he entered the room. On the dresser beside the door he was met with a small star shaped ceramic dish with a few rings and a necklace inside. A travel size bottle of perfume sat beside it and a soft pink lip liner nearby. As he furthered into the room he was met with more of your stuff. A swimsuit hung on the desk chair in his room. A Polaroid photo of you and Luke at some carnival the summer earlier was taped to the wall. Luke found a small box and began to put your items in the box.
You sighed as you discharged a needle into the biohazard box. You and your friend, Beth had volunteered to run the health clinic at UMich during the summer. You needed the cash and you had no summer plans since your breakup. The past 3 and a half months had been lonely for you. You found yourself wanting to call Luke nearly every day. Whether you were drunk at a bar and thought of something funny, or you had a good day at work and wanted to tell him, or you were rewatching Gilmore Girls and Luke and Lorelai had their first kiss and it made you think of him. But you held your pride.
You furrowed an eyebrow as your phone vibrated, you felt a sense of panic consume you when you saw the caller was Quinn. You excused yourself from the area you sat at and pressed the phone to your ear, “Quinn, what’s up?” Normally Quinn would have felt bad about lying to you, but he was tired of his baby brother moping around the house. He bit his lip, “It’s Luke, he’s hurt. Can you come?” You felt the blood rush from your face, “Yeah, I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at the house.” You turned to Beth, “I gotta go, bye. I’ll text you later.” You grabbed your bag and got in your card and drove to the lake house.
You slammed the car door and hurried inside, using your key to unlock the door. The house was eerily quiet, “Quinn? Jack?” Your heart was beating into your throat and ears when you saw him. Luke emerged from his bedroom shirtless rubbing his face in his hands, “Y/N? What are you doing here?” You felt like you couldn’t breathe, “Quinn called me. He said you were hurt.” You and Luke let out simultaneous sighs. Luke nodded, “I’m fine. You shouldn’t have come.” You shook your head in agreement, “Yep. I’ll let myself out. Oh here.” You peeled your key to the lake house off the key ring and handed it to him, “I don’t need it anymore.”
Luke hummed as he held up a finger, “I actually have something for you too.” He returned to his room for a brief second and returned carrying a box, “Figured you’d want this back.” You nodded as you blinked harshly keeping tears at bay, “Thanks Lu. I should get going, don’t wanna leave Beth at the health center alone for too long.” You walked out of the house and got into your car and made your way down the street.
You got to the end of the street when your phone rang with a call from Quinn. You sighed as you set it to speaker phone, “So any other lies I should be expecting dumbass?” Jack scoffed lowly, “Stop the car Y/N.” You looked into your rear view mirror, “You two are seriously following me now?” Quinn spoke, “Pull the car over now.” You pulled onto the side of the road and got out, “What could you boneheads want from me? If the plan was for him to stomp all over my heart then goal achieved.”
Quinn scoffed, “He isn’t over you Y/N, I swear I heard him talking to Ethan or Rutger about you last night.” Jack nodded, “Yeah then he made me and Z get trashed with him and he ended up crying about you.” You shook your head, “This isn’t fair to me. Not when I’m finally picking the pieces of my life up. Especially not after he insinuated that I chose everything over him. I can’t do that again.”
Jack shook his head, “He’s changed and he didn’t mean it. Just go back and talk to him. Tell him all that you just told us.” You shook your head as tears spilled down your cheeks, “What if he doesn’t want me?” Jack pulled you into a brotherly embrace, “Then he’s an idiot. But I know he isn’t. Go.” You wiped your face as you got back into your car and returned to the lake house. Quinn and Jack watched from the street as you stood on the porch.
You pounded on the door and felt a small breath of air as Luke opened the door. You felt your voice waver, “I am mad as hell at you. You are the most infuriating person I have ever met. I have never met someone so annoyingly perfect. You Luke Hughes, I have never ever loved someone as much as I love you. I don’t care about any of that stuff anymore. I just want to be with you.” Luke’s eyes softened, “You are the most infuriatingly stubborn person I’ve ever met. I’ve known from the first day I met you that you were the most special person in the world. I don’t want to be anywhere with anyone without you.”
You pulled him into a soft passionate kiss, your hands threading through his hair. A soft groan left Luke’s lips and hit yours. You pulled away as you breathed heavily. Luke looked down at you with lidded eyes fluttering, “I knew you’d come back to me.” You kissed him, “Shut up and kiss me. We have a lot of time to make up for.” Luke grinned as he pulled you in the door, “Thank god for my brothers.” You grinned, “Thank god for your brothers.”
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navybrat817 · 9 months
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A little steam to power you through your Monday?
I barely made it, but I will take him. And a little something because I appreciate you.
Strike a Pose
Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You get a front row seat to your roommate's latest photoshoot, which happens to feature your boyfriend.
Word Count: Over 1k
Warnings: K-I-S-S-I-N-G, college AU, nicknames, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)
A/N: A little more Titan and Starshine that no one asked for!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You were a bit surprised when your roommate, Roxy, messaged you to come to her recent photoshoot. A photography major who captured exquisite images, she was hardly ever without her camera. But she typically didn't ask you to show up for a session unless she specifically told you she planned to take photos of you. She hadn't in this case. She also ambushed you at the door of the studio and you wondered what was going on.
"Is everything okay?" you asked as she ushered you inside. 
"Just fine, but wait. Before you go any further," she replied, stopping you before you could take another step. "Did you talk to Bucky this afternoon?"
You raised an eyebrow and tried to get a read on why she was asking. You didn't go a day without talking to him and it still made you giddy that he usually reached out first. "Yeah, we're supposed to meet up in an hour. Why?"
"You know how I'm doing an athletic spread for my next project?" she asked before you nodded. "Well, one of my 'models' got sick today and I bumped into Steve and I asked if he wouldn't mind me taking some photos of him and he also suggested Bucky and-"
"They both agreed?" you guessed. It made sense that she asked. Steve and Bucky, especially with his boxing background, were both in amazing shape and certainly had the looks of models.
"They did. Steve should be here in a bit, so it's just Bucky and I for now."
You didn't feel a surge of jealousy or nervousness. There was no reason for it. "Unless you're hitting on Bucky, I don't see what the problem is," you teased. You trusted them and hoped you hadn't given either of them a reason to think you didn't.
"Hey! I take offense to that. I know he is your man and we both want you here," she huffed, making your heart flutter. Bucky Barnes was your guy. "He keeps looking at the door to make sure you're coming. He's down so bad for you."
That made your heart beat faster. He was waiting for you? "I was kidding about you hitting on him. I know you wouldn't do that," you assured her. You didn't want to hurt her feelings with a bad joke.
She flashed you a huge grin after a moment. "I know you were kidding. I was just giving you shit," she teased. Of course she was. "But speaking of your man, it is my duty as your roommate and friend to prepare you as much as I can: He's going to ruin your panties. I'm not kidding. Soaked. And it's only fair that as his girlfriend you should witness him in his glory before the film develops."
You almost sputtered as she practically dragged you further into the studio. "You act like I haven't seen Bucky... Fuck. Me."
"Right here, Starshine? I'm game if you are," Bucky winked.
Your boyfriend sat in the middle of the room surrounded by steam, looking the part of a young, modern king. It was unbelievable how he looked so commanding and he wasn't standing. Was it the sleeveless shirt that accentuated his muscular arms or the way.the light made his brown hair shine? Or was it confidence in his blue eyes as he unashamedly looked you up and down?
The whole package.
"Told you. Soaked panties," your roommate said as she checked her camera. "And for the record, I haven't seen Bucky fuck you, but if he keeps eye-fucking you like that, I just might."
"I can't help myself," Bucky said, licking his lips as he beckoned you closer with his finger. Your feet moved forward on their own accord. "She should be the one being photographed."
Your stomach did a funny flip. While you wouldn't say you lacked confidence, you wouldn't call yourself glamorous either. "I'm no model," you protested. 
"You could be," he said, taking your hand the second you were close enough. "You're so beautiful and I don't have enough pictures of you. It isn't fair. You're depriving me."
"You're ridiculous," you giggled before he pulled you into his lap. "This is an athletic photoshoot."
"Should we show her how you can put your legs behind your-"
"No!" you giggled more. 
"Okay," he chuckled, bumping his nose against yours. "But you really could be a model if you wanted to. Or maybe a ring girl."
"You'd let me walk around the ring in a bathing suit with no objection?" you asked, knowing Bucky would support you if you really wanted to. Lucky for you, he was the right kind of possessive boyfriend. He treated you with respect instead of like an object. 
"I would because I know you're leaving with me at the end of the night, Starshine," he said.
"Whatever you say, Titan."
You inhaled when he gripped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. Your cheeks were so hot you were shocked you didn't burst into flames. You could try and blame it on the steam, but it was all him. 
Your Titan.
"Wait! Hold that pose!" Roxy ordered. "Ahh! This might be my best shoot yet!"
With Bucky as her model, you knew it would be. 
You paid no attention to the camera going off as you continued to gaze at Bucky. Beneath the flirty surface was tenderness in his eyes, a private moment amongst the flashing lights. Maybe you could get Roxy to make a couple of copies of the photos. One set for you and one set for him. 
"Now KISS!"  
And there was no hesitation when Bucky surged forward, capturing your lips in a devouring kiss. You moaned softly as he moved his tongue with yours in a heated dance, having to remind yourself that the two of you weren't alone. There was no way for you not to crave him though. 
Isn't that part of what young love is all about?
Except you hadn't said that word yet. 
Soon.
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Oh, these two. More of them here. 💙 Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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2knightt · 10 months
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Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)
↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧
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➬ the gang x model!fem!reader
a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.
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Johnny Cade ;
believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.
STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.
probably thinks you’re too good for him.
PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.
take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.
if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.
“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”
“you look perfect.”
“you think?”
“…mhm.”
the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.
“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”
“WOAHHH!”
“jesus…does she have a sister?”
“guys please stop.”
cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.
not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.
Dallas Winston ;
oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.
“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”
“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”
buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.
any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.
“i’d hit that.”
“yeah?”
“yea—”
dead./j
no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.
the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.
“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”
“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”
“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
you’re legit, all he thinks about.
he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.
genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.
Ponyboy Curtis ;
he gets so nervous around you omfg.
his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.
“he-hey y/n.”
“oh, hey pony!”
uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.
he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw
draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.
IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&
he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much
the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.
“hey, don’t you model?”
“yeah!”
“what.”
“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”
“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”
Sodapop Curtis ;
POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.
you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.
literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.
the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.
he probably got into modeling because of you.
OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???
he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.
like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.
“she’s hot.”
“she has a boyfriend.”
“so?”
call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!
showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.
“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”
“why not?”
“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”
Darry Curtis ;
honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.
if it brings in money, it brings in money.
but the gang sure as hell does!
“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”
“THE MODEL?”
“yeah? how do you guys know her?”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”
“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”
“WHAT??”
i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.
he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.
“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”
when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.
compliments you after he seen it.
“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”
“you think, darry?”
Steve Randle ;
rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.
DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.
“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”
“nobody cares steve.”
“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”
STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.
takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.
sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.
gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.
“you can do so much better, y/n.”
“dallas, shut the fuck up.”
“i’m just sayin’.”
“i will knock you out.”
Two-bit Matthews ;
HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.
you have him giggling n shit.
his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.
not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.
tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.
“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”
would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.
introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.
“how??”
“what do you mean, ‘how?’”
“how did you pull her?”
“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”
“you’re so funny, two-bit.”
“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”
“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”
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may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.
tag-list ;
@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️
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linopls · 5 months
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kinktober day twenty-seven
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sexting felix x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, mentions of unprotected sex
1.1k words
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routine company meetings were a wide known snooze-fest. it felt like a competition for who could talk the longest and about the most boring aspects of the company. you never understood why you had to be here. you were just a marketing student intern who was helping run stray kids’ social media accounts, it's not like the finances made any sense to you.
unlike your contract had stated, you started to form a liking to one of the members: felix. the two of you quickly became acquainted when you both had to explain a tiktok trend to your supervisor that felix wanted to post. your supervisor never ended up understanding it but felix thanked you for your attempted support by buying you lunch that afternoon.
eventually it became lunch every time felix was in the building. the two of you would rant to each other about working for different sides of the company and all the struggles you faced. it was just two friends hanging out until the day he called you pretty.
it came out so casually. you weren’t dressed any different but he said your hair looked pretty. it took you back for a second before you smiled and said thank you. that day he payed like usual, he insisted every time, but then suggested you guys got lunch somewhere other than the cafeteria, or maybe dinner.
it never became official, and it never could, until the company removed its employee dating restrictions. you two went on dates like boyfriend and girlfriend, texted like boyfriend and girlfriend, and had amazing sex like boyfriend and girlfriend. he was incredible in bed, he claimed he didn’t have that much experience, but he was brilliant.
he even drove you crazy even when his dick wasn’t inside of you. when you were at dinner, all it took was one glance in your direction and if there weren’t so many people in the restaurant, you would let him take you right there. he had such a way with words as well, and he used that to his advantage. 
you see your phone screen light up on the table in front of you. the way the conference room was set up was four rows of tables set in a U-shape. you and your team always sat in the last row to the far left and the stray kids members say in the last row on the far right. this meant when you did not want to pay attention to the current speaker you could look at felix across the room.
you look at the contact photo and name and see that felix sent you a message. you slowly grab your phone and open the message. 
felix: you look good in red ❤️
you’re wearing a red pantsuit today, his favorite color. you smile and look up to him, he’s already looking at you and smiling. he looks back down to his phone and types for a second before looking back up to you. your phone lights up again.
felix: you looked really good in that red dress last night
you blush and try to discreetly cover your face with one of your hands. felix had taken you out to dinner the night prior and you wore a new dress, a similar shade of red to the pantsuit you wore today. when he first picked you up he stared at you, mouth agape. before telling you red was his favorite color.
felix: you also looked really good in the red matching set you wore in bed
his reaction when you slid your dress down your legs to reveal your matching red bra and panty set was a sight you’ll never get out of your head. his eyes glossed over with lust and a very obvious tent formed in his pants.
you: never knew you had such a sexual attraction for the color red… 😏
you look up to see felix subtly roll his eyes before beginning to type a response. you watch changbin look over his shoulder and giggle and felix pulls his phone to his chest. you thank god for your privacy screen protector and the fact you’re sat on the end and the person next to you is also so uninterested in the meeting that they are online shopping.
felix: just for you, in red specifically
felix: i think it's your color~
you: thank you baby🤭
you: i think i’ll wear another red set tonight ;)
you glance up from your phone to his felix’s reaction. his mouth forms a thin line before he bites down on his lips slightly.
felix: yeah?
felix: do you have a picture?
you: horny bastard. 🖕
felix: just want a spoiler 🥺
you: you’ll have to wait and see~~
felix rolls his eyes and sets his phone face down on the table and focuses back on the speaker. you begin to aimlessly scroll through your socials. before long another text from felix pops up and you eagerly click on it.
felix: i want to bend you over one of these tables and fuck you so badly
you: i’m doing great thanks for asking 😐
felix: i don’t even care who watches
felix: i just want you to cum on my cock over and over again
you: lix…
felix: you look so good from behind
felix: and i love that i can see your face in the mirror in my room
felix: the way tears stream down your face when i make you cum for a third or fourth time 😖
you: you’re so good at what you do
you: i’m already soaked just thinking about it 🫣
you adjust yourself awkwardly in your chair. feeling your panties sticking to your folds as felix stares you down from across the room.
felix: i just want to stuff you full of my cum
felix: over and over again
felix: go to the bathroom 😏
you notice he has his legs crossed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.
felix: wanna fill you with my cum and watch you sit through this meeting knowing who you belong to
you: it's too obvious if we leave within a couple minutes of each other :( 
you: we’ll get a break soon and i’ll meet you in the bathroom on the floor above 😚
felix: my dick is throbbing thinking about being buried in your sweet pussy
you: we won’t need to waste any time, i’m already dripping for you
“alright everyone,” the speaker claps his hands together. “let’s take a lunch break and come back in an hour?”
as everyone begins to gather their things and leave the room, you quickly throw everything in your bag and streamline to the door. felix is holding the door waiting for you.
“come on, ms. l/n,” felix smiles. “lunch shall we?”
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felix probably has mad sexting game
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hanluex · 8 months
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♡ I LOVE YOU — KIM GUNWOO
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bf!gunwoo x gn!reader | wc : 0.6k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, fluff, established relationship | loki's lines — here is my bloodhounds debut, hope y’all enjoy! follow @geonwooz for more!
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“jagiya, look here. i'll take your picture!”
gunwoo smiled, always excited to snap your pictures whenever you two went out on your little dates.
it was a hobby of his; to take as many pictures of you as he could every time you two went out.
you shook your head, moving out of the camera frame, before looking at your boyfriend with a disgruntled expression.
“jagiya, what’s wrong?”
“i don’t have any pictures of you.”
a confused pout appeared on gunwoo’s face, and it took your all to not just squish his cheeks and kiss him then and there.
“but what does that have to do with me taking your picture?” he asked softly, his phone now in his pocket, as he moved closer to you.
you couldn’t help but smile at his words, finding him absolutely endearing. “you always take pictures of me, but i never get to take any of yours,” you explained.
gunwoo shrugged, still pouting. “you know i don’t like cameras, jagi,” he stated, a fact you already knew before he even shared it.
“yeah, but i don’t have any pictures of you to look at when i miss you.”
“oh.”
“you have tons of pictures of me,” you continued, unaware of how your words reddened your boyfriend’s cheeks. “but i only have that one picture of you in front of your mother’s new café.”
gunwoo chuckled, knowing there was no way out of an argument with you. “okay, okay. you can take a picture of me then,” he mumbled, standing awkwardly.
a gleeful laugh left your lips as you clapped, excited to finally take a proper picture of your boyfriend — aka snap your soon-to-be lock screen.
kim gunwoo smiled to himself as he watched you place your hand on his shoulders, pushing him into his position as you checked for a pleasant background.
technically, he moved as you pushed him because there was no way you would’ve been able to nudge him out of place by yourself.
with a wide grin, you took a couple of steps back, absolutely pleased with how everything looked on camera. well, almost everything. the only thing that seemed out of place was the frown on your boyfriend’s face.
“gunwoo-ya. are you standing next to kim myeonggil?” you asked, brows furrowed at the way he was looking at the camera.
the brunet looked around, confused as to why you asked him that. “no?” he carefully answered, wondering why you were sulking.
“then why do you look like it’s the worst day of your life? smile a little, please!”
gunwoo took a deep breath, following your commands as he cracked a smile, and posed for the camera; however, even that didn’t seem to satisfy you.
he was smiling so naturally all this time when we were together; why does he get awkward when the camera is on him?
“i look awkward, don’t i, jagiya?” gunwoo asked, realizing his awkwardness was definitely showing with the way he posed.
he wasn’t used to posing for photos like this, and it definitely showed, but of course, being his girlfriend, you weren’t about to give up on him like that.
“nope, not at all. you look great.”
“ah, okay, then.”
“gunwoo-ya,” you called gently, getting your boyfriend’s attention. “i love you.”
as cheeky as your method was, the result absolutely warmed your heart.
as soon as he heard those words, kim gunwoo broke into the soft smile you were always used to seeing, his eyes shaped like little crescents with the way he smiled too hard.
you quickly snapped the picture, quickly running to your boyfriend to show him the result.
gunwoo never knew anyone could be so excited to take his photo, and he only found himself falling for you harder when he saw you immediately make his picture your lock screen.
you looked at your boyfriend, smiling widely as you showed him your phone, unaware of the thoughts that were running through his mind.
before you could even process it, gunwoo placed his lips upon yours, capturing them in a chaste kiss, replying to the words you told him earlier.
“and i love you.”
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TAGLIST: TO BE ADDED, PLEASE DM OR COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK :)
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tasteleeknow · 1 year
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FINDING YOUR INNER CHILD WITH SKZ
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GENRE: fluff. fondness and affection galore. very self indulgent and comforting. WORD COUNT: 4.5k (500 each)
a/n: a little celebration of hitting 3k before the end of the year! i’m so grateful to everyone that reads my work, interacts with me and encourages me to keep trying. writing is really therapeutic to me and hearing other people can find comfort in my work makes me feel really warm. thank you!
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CHAN — CLIMBING TREES
“Keeping going!” he calls out to you from below. He watches you as you wrap your arms around a thicker branch and squeeze your eyes shut. 
“I can’t, I’ll fall!” you shout back. 
You took early morning walks together often, whenever he’d had trouble sleeping and pulled an accidental all-nighter. You said it’d help wear him out a little, tucking him into bed when you got home with a kiss to his forehead. The tree climbing? This was new. You’d made an offhand comment about how nice it would be able to fly up over the treeline and see the sunset. He’d suggested climbing a tree and you’d scoffed like it was completely ridiculous. He’d quickly discovered you’d never even attempted it, not even as a child. 
“You won’t fall,” he encourages. “I’ll catch you if you do.” 
“Catch me?” you question, peeking an eye open. 
“Mm, I got you.” 
Your other eye opens and you look down at him, koala gripping to the branch. “Promise?” 
He smiles. “Yeah, baby. I promise.” 
He watches as you look up the tree then to your arms, an adorable look of determination crossing your face. Then you’re moving, pulling yourself up the thick branches as he moves around below you—making sure he’s under you the entire time. The first time you had shown you trusted him was months into your relationship. He knew it was difficult for you to trust someone completely. That’s why when you’d opened up to him about your lack of previous dating experience and how comfortable he made you, he’d written the moment down—making sure he’d remember it. 
“I can see it!” you shout suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. “It’s so pretty! The sky is orange and pink!” He can just make out your face through the branches, your eyes bright with excitement. He smiles fondly, warmth blooming in his chest. 
“Yeah? Was it worth the climb?” 
“Come see!” you call. “You have to see it!” 
“Just get a good look for me, yeah? Describe it to me when you come down.” 
You pull your eyes from the sky, looking down at him again. “Come up, please?” 
“I promised I’d catch you. I can’t do that if I come up.” 
You’re quiet for a moment before pulling your hands from the branch you’re leaning against. Anxiety slams into his chest. “Hey! Don’t let go!” he calls. 
You make the shape of a camera with your fingers, pointing it out over the horizon and pretending to take a photo. Then you grip the branch again, beginning your slow descent. “Just taking a photo for you,” you say as you climb. 
When you reach the last branch he holds his arms open. “Jump,” he encourages. You don’t hesitate, trusting him to catch you.
MINHO — CAMPING
He’d insisted on spending his break over Christmas camping. He’d been fixated on the idea since you’d mentioned you’d never gone camping before. “Ever?!” he’d exclaimed, totally taken aback by your offhand comment. You’d laughed, pinching his cheeks between your fingers at his dramatic reaction. 
Now, here you are, your nose freezing off as you shuffle your camping chair as close to the fire as possible. It was completely ridiculous to be camping in this weather but your boyfriend had been so excited for so long, you couldn’t turn him down. He’d been rushing around the apartment all day yesterday, organising everything you’d need like you were planning a week away and not a weekend. 
He shuffles his chair closer to yours, reaching over to take your gloved hand in his. “You warm enough?” he asks, glasses falling down his nose a little. 
You reach over to push them up his nose, then pull his hat down his head a little more. “Mm,” you lie. “Are you?” 
He nods, taking your hand in his again and staring back into the fire. You smile as his eyes glaze over, zoning out again. You could handle a little cold. He’d put up with much more for your sake. It had taken months for you to open up to him, to let him in. He’d stuck around the whole time, patiently waiting for you to make the first move. Everyone around you kept reminding you of his feelings. It’s obvious, they’d say. You weren’t ready, you’d answer back. They didn’t understand the silent agreement between you. No one understood you like he did. You’d never forget his smile when you’d pulled him aside and asked him if he’d like to get dinner with you. “Finally,” he’d breathed.
The next time he snaps out of whatever he’s thinking about and checks in on you, you’re visibly shivering. He stands quickly, pushing his chair aside so he can kneel beside you. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?” he scolds, reaching up to cup your cheek in his gloved hand. 
“‘M not that cold,” you answer, unconvincingly. 
He frowns, standing and pulling you up with him. He practically shoves you into the tent. It was very different to how you imagined camping. He’d picked a place with large permanent tents, equipped with beds and electricity. Still, they weren’t much warmer than outside. Minho moves to the bed to plug in the electric heating pad and then darts back over to you. You stand still as he pulls your gloves from your fingers and then your hat. He struggles with the zip on your jacket in his rush to help you change. You’re quiet, shivering as he works. Just as he’s getting ready to personally pull your pyjamas over your head, you grab his arm. 
“I can do it.” 
He hesitates then hands you the flannel shirt before disappearing back outside. You listen to him shuffling around, packing things up and putting out the fire as you pull your pyjamas on quickly and shove your biggest sweater over your head. You dig out a pair of fluffy socks and pull them as far up your legs as you can as Minho re-enters the tent. 
“You should’ve said you were cold,” he grumbles again as he moves around you, shoving his hand under the blanket to check the heating pad before pulling his own clothes off. You climb into the bed, sighing a little at the warmth seeping into you from the warm mat beneath you. 
When your boyfriend joins you, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. When you shiver again he drapes a leg over you, practically smothering you with his body. You chuckle, pulling his arm up to your face and burying your face in the soft fabric of his sweater. 
“Were you planning on freezing to death, hm? What did I ever do to you?” he mumbles. 
“You broke my favourite mug.” 
You imagine him rolling his eyes. “So you were going to freeze yourself in protest? Leave me all alone?” 
You snuggle back into him, his hard body cushioned by layers of fabric. “I’m warm now.” 
“Promise?” he asks, warm breath tickling your neck. 
“Mm,” you sigh. “I like this part of camping.”
CHANGBIN — HAIR BRUSHING
It starts with his hand simply resting on your shoulder. You were curled up on the couch, your head resting in his lap. You’d been struggling to sleep recently and he’d insisted on putting a movie on and staying up with you. You’d considered faking it, pretending to doze off so you could convince him to go to bed. He couldn’t afford to lose any sleep. But you were incredibly selfish, enjoying his comforting touch too much to give it up. 
You hum when his fingers move up to your head, brushing your hair away from your face gently and then playing with the strands at your temple. You imagine this is something like what your cat feels when he’s purring in your lap. His gentle fingers pause after a few minutes and you reach up to snatch his wrist as he pulls away. “Don’t stop,” you whisper. “Please.” 
He chuckles, fingers returning to your hair. “Does it feel nice?” 
“So nice,” you hum. It reminds you of how your mum had played with your hair when you were small. It wasn’t a regular occurrence but it stood out amongst your childhood memories. Amongst the comforting ones anyway. 
You indulge in the feeling of his fingers brushing through your hair for a few minutes more, eyelids feeling heavier and the movie fading into background noise. “My mum brushed my hair sometimes,” you murmur. “When I couldn’t sleep.” 
He drops his feet from where they are propped up on the coffee table. “Where’s your brush?” he asks. 
“You don’t have to do it,” you say, lifting your head from his lap to look up at him. “Just a memory I was thinking about, that’s all.” 
He lifts you from his lap so he can stand. Stubborn, as always. “It’s under the bathroom sink,” you instruct, offering him a small grateful smile.
When he returns you’re sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch in preparation. He settles himself behind you, caging you in with his knees on either side of you. He lifts your hair, gently brushing any tangles from the ends before he begins brushing the entire length—bristles massaging your scalp with each stroke. You sigh, dropping your head back to rest against the couch cushion. It limits the areas he can work but you hardly care, letting him brush from your hairline back towards him. 
The movie is well and truly white noise now, all your attention on the gentle strokes your boyfriend makes and the fingers he’s begun brushing over your collarbones with his other hand. He taps a little as he goes, making a trail up your neck to your jaw. 
“Nice?” he whispers. 
All you can offer in this state is a slight blissful hum in return. His fingers move to your lips, brushing so lightly over your lips it tickles a little. Then he’s leaning down, legs jostling you just before his lips brush over yours. “Should we go to bed?” he whispers.
HYUNJIN — STARGAZING
“It’s kinda dark,” you say as your boyfriend pulls the huge bag he’d packed from the car. 
He shuts the car door then takes your hand in his. “Yes, that’s the point,” he says, a small puff of laughter leaving his lips. 
“Is it safe?” 
He gives you a small tug, encouraging you to follow him up the grassy slope. “It’s safe,” he assures you. “I used to come here all the time with my dad.” 
You were struggling to see the ground in front of you, amazed by how fast your boyfriend was moving despite the near pitch black darkness. “Yeah but… he’s big and scary.” 
Hyunjin laughs, finally coming to a stop on a flat patch of grass atop the small hill and dropping the large bag from his shoulder. “I can’t be scary?” he questions, pulling a large picnic rug from his bag and unfolding it. 
“No,” you answer easily, helping him lay the mat down onto the grass. You sit down quickly, kicking your shoes off to keep it clean. 
Something soft hits the side of your face just before your boyfriend joins you on the ground. You feel around, locating the pillow and placing it at the edge of the picnic rug so you can lie down. 
Your lips part as you look up. The sky… you were looking at it for the first time since stepping out of the car. You’d never seen so many stars in your life. You’d been driving for so long out of the city, it was clear now why. He’d clearly driven you far enough from the light pollution that a whole sea of stars that had been otherwise invisible to you were now shining bright. 
A blanket covers you suddenly and you pull it up to your chin just before your boyfriend drops back onto his own pillow beside you. You’re still quiet, eyes fixed on the glittering sky. 
“Pretty, right?” he says eventually, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at you. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, giving him no warning before you pull him down on top of you. He laughs as you hold him tightly, planting his hands on the mat to keep some of his body weight off you. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 
He rolls off you then snakes his arm under your head and pulls you up against his side so you can both look up at the stars. “I haven’t been here in years,” he says. 
“We should come here again.” 
He turns his head, lips brushing your hairline. “It’s not scary?” 
You drape your arm across his stomach, squeezing him slightly. “No,” you whisper. “Not with you.” 
“Oh, so I'm so unscary that I also just… repel anything else that might be?” 
“Mm,” you hum, smiling to yourself.
JISUNG — WATER FIGHTS
You pull the fan closer to the couch, making sure it’s directed at your face before falling back into the cushions with a groan. It was disgustingly hot, the hottest day of the year so far by a long way. It was a shame you and your boyfriend both had today off work and not the day before. It was too hot to do anything at all. 
“Baby! Come outside!” he calls through the open window. He’d been in the backyard for at least half an hour. Gardening, you assumed. Why he wanted to be outside in this weather, you had no idea. You were too hot to care. 
“Too hot,” you grumble, throwing your arm over your head. You imagine how you must look: like a Victorian maiden suffering from some vague illness. You huff out a laugh at the thought just as the backdoor swings open. 
Your boyfriend leans over you, a droplet of sweat rolling down his temple. “Come outside, please,” he asks, bottom lip pushed out into a pout. 
“Do you want me dead?” 
He grabs your hand, tugging at you. “Just come,” he whines. 
You groan. “Pull me up then.” 
He tugs properly, pulling you onto your feet and leading you outside. You rub at your eyes as he guides you and stumble over the step at the backdoor, relying on your boyfriend to keep you on your feet. He drops your hand once you’re steady, disappearing around the side of the house to leave you squinting in the bright sunlight. You watch a few dark clouds in the distance, hoping they were a sign of rain. Something hits your side then explodes at your feet. You yelp jumping onto the grass and looking up at your boyfriend. He’s holding a big metal bowl in his hand, the same one you used for your baking. Your eyes move to something colourful in his hand just as he pelts it at you. You duck your head, tucking it into your chest and shielding yourself with your arms. It bounces at your feet: a water balloon.  
You look up at him just as tosses another one. “Stop! It’s not fair if you hog them all!” you shout, moving towards him with your eyes pointed at the ground and one arm in front of you. 
He giggles, dodging your grasp as you reach for him. You watch him run across the yard, bowl full of water balloons tucked safely under his arm. You throw your head back, groaning. “It’s too hot to chase you,” you whine. 
“Check near the hose,” he calls. 
You turn to look down the side of the house, a bucket sitting next to the tangled garden hose. You trudge over to find it full of water balloons. No wonder he was out here so long, he’d filled and tied enough for you both. You pick up the bucket, resting it against your hip so you can dig balloons out with your other hand. When you reappear around the corner, a balloon narrowly misses your legs. 
You fish a big one out of the bucket and throw, laughing as it bursts directly onto his chest. 
He grins just as a rumble of thunder rolls across the sky. “You’re in for it now!” he yells. 
When you’re all out of balloons and the first droplets of rain fall from the sky he tackles you to the grass, hand cradling your head before it hits the ground. He hovers over you, hair sticking to his forehead.
“I haven’t had a water balloon fight since…I was 8 maybe,” you manage to get out between panting breaths. “I forgot they existed.” 
“Now we have to pick them all up,” he says, equally breathless. 
“I need to recharge first.” 
“Mm? You wanna just lie here for a bit?” 
“Kiss,” you prompt, lifting your head a little. 
He grins. “Oh, is that how you recharge?” 
You nod, wrapping your arms around him and pulling his lips to yours.
FELIX — THEME PARKS
“I’m not sure I can,” you mutter, looking up at the twists and turns of the towering rollercoaster. 
Your boyfriend places his hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles as he speaks. “You don’t have to. There’s other rides,” he says. 
“But this is my chance, I want to try at least once.” 
You’d only been to one other theme park in your life, when your grandparents had taken you as a child. You’d been too small to ride any of the rollercoasters then. Felix had seen the glint of regret in your eyes as you’d told him, deciding in that moment what you’d be doing that weekend. He watches you now, arms wrapped around your stomach in a defensive gesture. You were brave, he knew you’d refuse to give up until you’d worked up the courage. He hated seeing you afraid. 
“We can come back, anytime,” he says.
You suck in a deep breath then reach to take his hand. “No,” you say, determined. “Let’s go.” 
He lets you lead him to the queue, squeezing your hand periodically as you bounce your knee—a clear sign of your anxiety. He places his hand on your shoulder, directing your attention to him and away from the people boarding the ride at the front of the queue. “What do you want to do after?” he asks, offering you a small smile. 
“Um, I dunno. Whatever you want.” 
“Food? Are you hungry?” 
You shake your head, looking back to the front of the queue as the ride takes off. You’ll be on the next one. “Don’t have an appetite,” you answer.
“There’s fireworks later,” he says, attempting to get your attention again. It works. You snap your eyes to his, lighting up with excitement. He smiles, tugging you closer and wrapping his arms around you.
“Are there really?” 
He nods, struggling to keep the smile off his face at your wide eyed enthusiasm. “We can find a place right under them, so the ones that trickle down look like they’re coming right at us.” 
You jump a little in his arms, a small smile pulling your lips up at the corners. Then the ride attendant calls you forward. Your smile drops and he moves you aside so he can go first, settling into the seat and pulling the harness down over himself. He helps you pull yours down, taking your hand in his as soon as it’s free. “We don’t have to do it,” he reminds you, looking up to the ride attendant as he helps others into their seats. 
You shake your head. “It’ll be fine,” you say before looking to him for reassurance. “Right?” 
He squeezes your hand, smiling at you. “Of course it will. I’m right here.” 
You’re quiet until the top of the first slope, kicking your legs back and forth and keeping his hand grasped tightly in yours. Just before you tip over the edge you lean forward, making eye contact with him and offering him a bright smile. Then you’re both screaming, too focused on the dropping sensations in your stomachs and gripping the harnesses to check in with each other. 
When it’s over he reaches over to take your hand, your laughter evidence of your enjoyment. “Good?” he asks anyway, breathless from his own screaming. 
You squeeze his hand. “Let’s go again,” you exclaim, kicking your legs in excitement. 
He grins, taking in your blown out hair and bright smile. “Okay.”
SEUNGMIN — BIRTHDAY GIFTS
You were used to birthday’s passing without much fanfare. In fact, you preferred it that way at this point. It was your first birthday with your boyfriend and you hadn’t thought to say anything about it at all. That’s why, when you arrive home to find a large box with a big red bow on the top you pause—confused for a moment. Oh. Your birthday. 
You close the door gently and toe your shoes off, attempting to make as little noise as possible. Then the box moves. You snap your eyes to the large box, thinking perhaps you’d imagined it. It shakes again. 
“Seungmin!” you call, afraid to get any closer. 
He appears around the corner, looking like he’d just woken from sleep. Then, taking in your appearance at the door his eyes widen before dropping to the large box between you. He hurries towards you, wrapping you in a quick hug before pulling you closer to the present. “Happy birthday,” he says. 
“It moved.” 
His lips curve up. “That’s a good sign.”
“Why did you buy me a present?” 
He frowns. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
“Because it’s not a big deal. It’s just…the day I was born. I don’t need anything.” 
“It’s a big deal to me. I’m very grateful for it,” he says before sighing. “Now would you open the giant box?” 
You huff out a breath of laughter at his impatience. “Alright, alright.” 
You take a hesitant step closer and then gingerly pull the ribbon loose, letting it fall down the sides and onto the floor. Your boyfriend presses his hand to your back, encouraging you to continue. You lift the flaps quickly, snatching your hands back to your body before anything inside can bite them off. Something bounces around inside and you lean over to find a tiny puppy attempting to climb up the cardboard walls. 
You feel like the breath is knocked from your lungs, leaning down quickly to snatch the tiny thing into your arms. Your eyes water embarrassingly fast and you look back up to your boyfriend. “What the fuck is this?” you ask, failing to keep the emotion from your voice. 
“A dog.” 
You take a step closer to him so you can shove him with your shoulder just before you burst into tears. He laughs, wrapping his arms around you and the tiny puppy. “You said you never had any pets as a kid,” he mumbles into your hair. “Thought you might like one. Got him from the shelter.” 
“I love him,” you sob. 
“And me?” he questions, pulling back to direct your eyes to his. He has that smile on his face. The one he used when you fell on your ass and he had to pull you to your feet and check you weren’t damaged. Teasing, and fond. 
“And you.”
JEONGIN — VIDEO GAMES
He’d been trying to invent some excuse to invite you over for a year. More than a year now. He’d only managed brief interactions with you since you’d moved into the apartment next door. They were enough that he wanted to know you more. 
He sucks in a deep breath before knocking, preparing himself for the thing he’d been putting off so long. You swing the door open with no warning, much quicker than he’d anticipated. 
“Um, hi,” is what he offers in greeting. 
“Hi, Jeongin,” you answer, a friendly smile on your lips. Don’t stare at her lips, he self chastises—dropping his eyes to the box in his hand instead. 
“I was at my parents house this weekend,” he begins, shuffling on his feet a little. “I found this old console. Most of the games are mutli player and I thought…maybe you’d like to try them with me?” 
It wasn’t a strong excuse. He could’ve asked a friend. Why would he ask his pretty neighbour he’d hardly spoken to. Your eyes drop to the box in his hands. “What console?” you ask, no judgement evident in your voice. He tilts the box towards you so you can see its contents. You take a quick step towards him and dig your hands into the box, lifting the white console from the tangle of wires. “Oh my god,” you exclaim. “I had a Wii as a kid! I have no idea where mine ended up.” 
He can’t keep the smile off his face. Well, this was going better than he thought. “I’m not sure where most of the games are,” he says. “I have Wii Sports and Mario Kart.” 
You laugh as he swings the controller around, failing in blocking your attack and watching as the little animated version of him topples off the tower. You were playing a game where the controllers acted like little lightsabers, and you were much better at it than he was. He couldn’t really care less, not when you’re laughing like you are. 
You drop to the floor as the game ends, controller resting on your stomach as you lie on your back. He joins you. “Did you play this a lot?” he asks. “As a kid.” 
You prop yourself up on your elbows to answer him. “Mm, was my sister's favourite. I’ve had years of practice,” you grin. 
“So I was setting myself up by asking you to play with me.” 
You laugh. “Do you regret it?” 
He shakes his head. “Not at all.” 
“I feel a bit silly,” you say, dropping your eyes from his. Your hair drops over your eyes and he resists the urge to lean over and brush it off your face. First day you’ve spent time together properly, he reminds himself. 
“Silly?” he questions. 
“I’ve…been working up the courage to ask you over for a while. I just thought… you would have asked if you were interested. It’s so easy now I’m here, I just feel silly for putting it off for so long.” 
He sits up straighter, dropping the controller onto the ground. “You—I mean you…wanted to ask me?” 
You nod. He laughs, falling flat on his back before turning to look at you. You have a little wrinkle between your eyes where your brows are pulled together in confusion. He wants to know you well enough that he could reach up and smooth it out. “Would you like to stay for lunch?” he asks. 
You offer him another pretty smile and his heart thumps hard in his chest. “Sure. As long as we can play another game.” 
“As many as you want,” he answers.
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3K notes · View notes
fandomnsfw · 11 months
Text
Bloody Mikaelson’s - Kol Mikaelson x Reader
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Pairing: Kol x Reader
Prompt: Kol is jealous about you being affectionate with everyone but him. He decides to tag along when you go shopping to try and get you to like him more. Fluff and confessions ensue!
Warning: Smut (?)
ENJOY!!
****
You sat down next to Niklaus on the sleek leather couch, phone in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. As you lent against him, his arm automatically wrapped around your shoulders. You and Klaus were best friends, the kinda of friends that spoon at night and talk about relationship problems. You sighed contently as you sipped your coffee. Despite his psychotic tendencies Niklaus was the biggest cuddle whore ever.
“What the hell! Why do you cuddle Nik like that and not me?” You heard a childish voice ask, looking up you see Kol stood there his arms opened wide like he was waiting for an explanation.
“Because little brother if she did, you’d try something extremely unrefined.” You heard Elijah’s sophisticated voice chuckle. You smiled when Elijah bent down and place a loving kiss on your forehead. To Elijah and Rebekah you were like a little sister.
“More so than you already do.” Nik added smirking to himself as he took a sip of your coffee that you hadn’t even realised he’d taken. You shot him a glare taking your coffee back before glancing up at Kol who was just glaring at everyone.
“Elijah gets to kiss you! Nik gets to cuddle you! What do I get!?” He growled angrily.
“A punch in the face if you carry on Kol.” You grunted as you went back to reading a post you had seen on Facebook. You heard a deep smooth chuckle from behind you resulting in you throwing you head back, hanging upside down to see Marcel stood directly in behind of you. Meaning your face was about 5 inches away from Marcel’s crotch. You stared at the fabric covering his jeans trying to see the shape.
“Are you finished staring at my crotch Y/N.” Marcel snorted making you tilt you head slightly.
“I’m trying to see if the myths about black guys is true.” You replied bluntly before sitting up and turning to Marcel kneeling up so you were looking into his eyes.
“It’s not always true but in Marcel’s case it is.” You heard a smug voice add, you looked behind Marcel to see Rebekah stood there with a smirk. She threw you a wink and walked over to sit with you.
“Jesus Bekah you got the full package huh? Voice that’s makes your panties wet, ripped as fuck, looks to die for and a big dick.” She laughed at your dreamy voice making you smirk.
“Y/N I adore you however if you could refrain from talking with my sister about her boyfriend’s genitals I would much appreciate it.” Elijah sighed shaking his head lightly as he continued to read.
“Sorry ‘Lijah, Nik.” You added knowing he was probably uncomfortable too. You scrolled through your Instagram liking a few picture along the way before you felt someone trying to shuffle there way between you and Klaus. You knew it was Kol straight away.
“Kol what are you doing?” You huffed making him stop moving as he settled down next to you. Earning himself a glare from Klaus.
“I’m coming to cuddle! I deserve affection too!” He exclaimed pairing his enthusiasm with a cheeky grin.
“Really Kol? I mean really?” You deadpanned making him shrug.
He wrapped his arm around you resulting in an eye roll on your part. You weren’t the closet with Kol, mainly because you never really spoke, not because you didn’t like each other. He irritated you and teased you but you knew it was all in good fun. You didn’t move away from his arm but you didn’t snuggle into him like you did Niklaus and sometimes Elijah. Elijah liked to cuddle on occasions, mainly when he was stressed. You continued scrolling through your Instagram, seeing a racy lingerie photo posted by one of the photographers you follow. You smiled and opened the comment box.
‘This is beautiful Jason.’ You commented on the photo before look at the picture again. It might be a lingerie photo but the way it was taken was art not sexual.
“Ooo I think you should do a photo like that and give it me for my birthday!” You heard Kol say from right next to you. You unwrapped his arm from you and moved to the opposite couch were Elijah was sat.
“Dammit come on Darling I was only joking!” Kol whined like a child who had just had his favorite toy taken from him. You didn’t respond instead picking up a pillow from the couch and throwing it at him. He caught it with ease and grinned very much resembling the Cheshire cat.
“Kol what did you do this time?” You heard a soft voice ask from behind you. You knew by the voice that it was Freya but you decided to drop Kol in it.
“He asked me for lingerie pictures for his birthday.” You pouted angrily as you looked at Freya with slight puppy dog eyes.
“Kol Mikaelson! That is no way to treat a lady!” Elijah and Freya shouted at the same time, I smiled at how much they were a like sometimes and turned to Kol who looked like he was ashamed in what he had just said.
“Sorry Y/N.” He muttered softly making you feel bad for ratting him out.
“It’s okay Kol. Anyway I’m going out today so I’ll see you guys later!” You hopped off the couch before you were stop by Niklaus.
“Where are you going?” Nik asked looking up from what he was doing.
“I’m going shopping. I realised I haven’t got much and I’ve been borrowing Rebekah’s clothes since I got here.” You smiled at him sweetly before leaning down and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Can I come with you?” You heard an unexpected voice ask. You looked over at Kol in surprise but nodded anyway because maybe it would do you some good to bond with Kol. After getting ready you met Kol in the courtyard, double checking you had your credit card and phone. Once you were sure you had them you nodded at Kol who offered you his arm. You smiled sweetly and took his arm gently before you both made your way out onto the bustling streets of New Orleans.
You stopped at the first shop and Kol had yet to let go of your arm which you found extremely endearing. As much as he was cheeky he was still a Mikaelson which meant he had to be at least 5% gentleman. You picked up a few different colored pairs of jeans, a few pairs of plain black leggings, some skirts and shorts before handing them to Kol who let go of your arm to help. You next went to get some plain vest tops, some crop tops and a few different types of blouses. You knew you and Bekah would most likely have a shopping spree soon so you only bought things you needs. Next you grabbed things like socks and tights, you tried to pay for them but Kol refused to let me and gave the woman his card. Kol took them bags from you and held them all in one hand before offering you his arm once again which made you grin threading your arm with his once again.
You laid your head on his bicep as you made your way to the nearest shoe shop. You strolled in with Kol and picked up a few different styles of heels and only 2 pairs of flats. One pair was running shoes and the other were a pair of sandals. You usually wore heels so you didn’t usually buy flats. They were only for when it was too hot and you couldn’t be bothered with the strain heels had on your feet. Once again Kol ignored your pleas to stop her paid for your shoes too. The last stop was a lingerie shop which made you snort slightly, remembering Kol’s teasing earlier. When you got inside you made your way to the simple 2 pieces sets. You looked the racks up and down before turning to Kol who unexpectedly looked quite uncomfortable.
You smiled reassuringly and quickly grabbed a few sets that you liked before making your way to the register, arm still linked with Kol’s. You set the stuff down smiling sweetly at the elderly woman behind the counter. Kol took out his card making me whine.
“Kol I can pay for them you don’t have to.” You sighed guiltily. He let out a chuckle grinning at you softly.
“I want to Darling.” He stated his pet name making you blush slightly.
“How long have you two been Married?” The little old lady asked as she accepted Kol’s card. You blushed further and was about to correct her but Kol nudge you and grinned.
“Not long.” Kol replied sweetly making you look at him with slightly widened eyes. After he retrieved the bags you made your way outside before you nudge him angrily.
“Why did you let her believe we were married?” You asked softly yet the hint of anger still evident in your voice.
“Because it’s not like we’re going to see her much and why spoil an old woman’s day by embarrassing her.” Kol stated with a small chuckle.
“So Mrs. Mikaelson how about we go get some food at the pub and then get all this stuff home?” He teased making you grin at his antics.
“Well if you insist Mr. Mikaelson.” You flirted. You grabbed some of the bags so you could intertwine your arms again which made him smile. After ate and laughed together you finally made it home Kol shouted at the top of his.  
“Y/N and I got married while we were out.” He knew his voice would reach everyone in the house and soon Nik and Rebekah came running out with wide eyes which made you laugh so hard you had to lean into Kol for support.
“You did what!?” Rebekah screeched making me laugh even harder.
“Yeah it was great there was sexy lingerie.” He nodded happily you saw the game he was playing and you decided to play along.
“Heels too die for.” I added nodding my head seriously.
“The dress she bought was absolutely beautiful.” Kol sighed dreamily almost making me crack.
“I contemplated getting my hair done but decided there wasn’t much point.” I shrugged.
“Oh and then we had a meal and a glass of wine!” Koll finished.
“Tell me you’re joking!?” Rebekah screamed her voice reaching the higher pitched stage. You looked at Niklaus who looked at you with wide eyes.
“But…But I had everything planned in my head!” Rebekah yelled making me and Kol look at her confusedly.
“Planned? Planned for what?” You asked cautiously.
“Yours and Kol’s wedding! Duhh!” She huffed angrily.
“What!?” You and Kol screamed in unison!
“We were joking Bekah! An old woman thought we were married and we didn’t correct her.” You replied laughing awkwardly.
“Oh okay that’s good because I planned everything.” Rebekah stated more calmly this type.
“Rebekah, Kol and I aren’t even dating…Why would we get married?” You asked looking up at Kol who just shrugged at you with wide eyes.
“I’m a woman that’s been around for 1000 years and I know that Kol is very clea-”
“Okay!!! That’s enough of that! Why don’t we go put your new stuff away?” Kol screamed interrupting Rebekah, his cheeks slightly flushed.
You shrugged it off and decided to follow Kol with the bags you were holding. Once you got to your room you fell forward onto the bed after dropping the bags. Kol fell onto it next to you, his warm brown eyes staring into your Y/E/C ones. You smiled sweetly at him before he reached over and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of his rough hand against your soft flesh. His hand lingered for a while before he pulled back making you almost whine at the loss of contact. You had been alive for over 200 years but Kol’s touch wasn’t like anything you’d felt before. It was gentle and loving, it undoubtedly made your heart flutter. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you like he had a question on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t find the courage to voice it. Which you found ironic since he was usually so sure of himself.
You smiled at him shyly knowing full well you had a blush covering your cheeks. His hand reached back out but this time it gently cupped your cheek. You nuzzled into his hands before looking back into his eyes. You had both somehow rolled onto your sides in a loose fetal position, knees touching slightly. His thumb circled you cheek gently before he spoke up.
“I really want to kiss you right now.” He whispered softly, looking into your eyes as he spoke. You didn’t respond just looked at him waiting for him to reach over. He sat up leaning on his elbow as he lent down and brushed his lips over yours. You reached between your bodies your hand gently gripping his t-shirt. You finally felt you lips meets and it was like you heart was beating so fast it would leap out of your chest, your stomach was going wild with the strength of the butterfly’s you were currently experiencing. After a few minutes of tender kisses he pulled away slowly. You sighed happily as his eyes met yours once again. He laid back down on his side.
“Y/N I think I’m in love with you.” His voice was timid and scared you would reject him but his confession only made you heart leap with happiness. When you didn’t say anything he started getting up which made you panic.
“Kol…” He turned round to look at you, sadness in his eyes.
“W-Will you please make love to me?” You asked timidly a blush bracing your face once again.
“I know I’m not in love with you yet but you make my heart beat louder than it ever should, when you kissed me I felt like everything disappeared so if you give me time I think I could fall in love you…If I haven’t already…” You whispered your eyes meeting his as he stared at you with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen him were but this time it was filled with love and hope.
He rushed over to you as you knelt at the end of the bed. His lips crushed against yours his emotions bursting out through the kiss. His hands cupped both your cheeks, your hands were gripping his t-shirt as he gently laid you down. He hovered over you, his body on top of yours but not uncomfortable. You gripped his biceps as you whimpered into the kiss, your heart was going a mile a minute. He broke the kiss only to trail soft kisses down your neck causing you to shiver. His hands slid to the hem of your shirt tugging it slightly he looked up at you as asking for permission, you nodded biting you lip which made him groaned.
You both sat up so he could pulled you top off tenderly. You tugged his top off and dropped it on the floor before taking your bra off and letting it join the pile of clothes by your bed. He gazed at you appreciatively before laying you back down. His lips were soon kissing slowly down your neck to you breast before taking one of your nipples into his mouth gently swirling his tongue while using his left hand to caress your thighs. You let out a soft moan as he moved to your other nipple showing it the same affection.
His hand finally made its way to the button on your jeans. He undid the button before pulling away for my breast, pulling down your jeans and plum coloured lace that was under your jeans. He let them poll on the floor before kissing your stomach softly, his hands sliding up your thighs. You gasped as his thumb found its way to your clit, his kiss slowly getting closer to your appending arousal. You hummed in appreciation as his thumb made small delicate circles on your clit.
His lips moved to your thigh before kissing up until it reached your sex. His breath brushed over your dripping heat before it finally made contact. It started of slow and seductive but soon turned so dominant and fast. You were a writhing mess of moans and panting as you felt you orgasm approach. His tongue dip inside you a few time before it continues its assault on your clit.
“K-Kol gonna cum..” You panted as you felt your end coming nearer with every move of his tongue.
“Let it go baby…I got you.” He whispered sweetly his finger slowly entering you, curling to reach your most treasure spot. He went back to kitten licks as his fingers did the rest of the work.
“F-Fuck Kol feels so good…” You whined. You were so close to the edge you would practically taste it. And finally you fell.
“M’ cumming Kol…Holy shit!” You moaned loudly you hand clutching the bed sheets as your back arched up, your mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure. Koll pulled back and stared at your with a small smile.
“Good you look beautiful when you cum.” He leaned over and kissed your forehead gently. You were still panting at he pulled back undoing his jeans. You reached over as soon as his member was free but he stopped you shaking his head making you frown.
“Not that I don’t want your hand or mouth wrapped round…It’s just I feel need to feel you right now.” That sentence should have sounded dirty but when Kol said it, it sounded like pure love. You nodded and opened your legs further, he slid in between them. You slid your arms round his neck embracing him like he was breakable. He kissed your lips tenderly and he lined himself up with your entrance. You were panting slightly, gripping onto him tightly. He slid himself into you at an agonizingly slow pace but you knew this wasn’t him fucking you. This was him showing you how much you mean to him and that was better than a quick fuck.
“F-Fuck!” He swore his head resting against the point where your shoulder and neck meets. His breathing was heavy and he was gripping the sheets tightly. You knew he was trying to control himself so you cupped his cheeks and brought him up so you were face to face. You stared into his eyes as if tell him ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re doing so well’. He gave you a shaky smile and began slowly thrusting into you. You gripped onto his shoulders as your breathing started getting heavier as well. He changed his angles so he could hit your g-spot which made you arch up and whimper at the amount of love and pleasure you were feeling all at once.
Once you collected yourself slightly. You move you both into a different position so you could be closer. Kol sat on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the bed. You were sat in his lap, your chest and forehead pressed against his as you continued to move your hips. You were thrusting forward instead of up and down so your clit was gently rubbing as his pubic bone with every thrust. You threw you head back letting out a moan, Kol’s lips going straight to you throat placing soft wet kisses on the hollow of your throat. You started to feel yourself building steadily, moaned husky moans and panting getting loud with each thrust.
“Y/N I’m c-close..” Kol panted against your throat making you shutter out a breath.
“Me t-too…Cum with me…” You stuttered before letting out another choked sob. Your pace got slightly fast as your orgasm was finally reaching its peak. You pulled back and look into Kol’s eyes, His left hand cupping you cheek and he stared at you with so many unspoken words. His brows were furrowed and his eyes kept trying to shut as he neared his end. One arm wrapped around his neck and the other placed on his chest.
“I’m c-cumming..” You whispered against his lips your panting loud and deep. He nodded letting you know he was too you gasped as you finally came, your walls clenching around Kol triggering his orgasm.
Once you had ridden out your orgasms, Kol picked you up with shaky legs and laid you on the bed carefully. He crawled under the covers with you and pulled you into his chest, kissing you hair lovingly.
“I love you Y/N and I’ll wait forever if it means you’ll love me back.” Kol’s stated his voice was quiet and spent after earlier activities.
“It won’t take as long as you think…” I muttered into his chest before placing a kiss on his chest bone.
BANG!!
“It’s about bloody time!” Rebekah screamed as she slammed to door open.
“For the love of all that is bloody holy! Rebekah get out!” Kol screamed making you jump slightly which made him look down at you.
“I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to make you jump…” He muttered apologetically.
“It’s okay. Nik! Can you respectfully drag your lovely sister…who I adore…out of my bloody room!” You screamed only making Kol chuckle but also making sure everything was covered before Nik came in. Nik soon came in and pushed Rebekah out the room but turn to look at us.
“I’m happy for you both. Hurt her Kol and I’ll dagger you.” Niklaus threatened before leaving the room and closing the door on his way out.
Bloody Mikaelson’s. 
904 notes · View notes
cod-sins · 8 months
Note
Hi! :)
Can I request könig w/ a insecure chubby s/o headcanons? (If you're okay with writing that) I read your könig headcanons and this came in my mind
Have a good day!! :33
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.ೃ࿐ Format: Hcs.
.ೃ࿐ Reader: Undisclosed. Fat/chubby/plus-sized.
.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW. NSFW UNDER CUT.
.ೃ࿐ Word Count: 725.
[A/N: Why not kill two birds with one stone? It's not just big girls he likes, it's big boys too! König likes 'em all. Also if this seems a little repetitive sorry my brain is fried and so is my laptop. P.S. My gay ass really likes cheek cupping so yall gon see a lot of that.]
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König understands what it feels like to be insecure about your own body. He was the tallest boy in his class and always felt singled out by his fellow classmates. There were times were he absolutely dreaded going to school knowing he would be ridiculed and teased about how tall he was. To him it was one of the worse things he experienced so he would never want anyone to deal with that ESPECIALLY his partner.
You would stare at yourself in the mirror, constantly comparing yourself to other people you saw. You always felt as if you weren't good enough when it came to everyone else. You tried to ignore it but the feeling always kept crawling back. It would get to the point where you feel like you weren't even good enough for your own boyfriend. You began hiding your shape, wearing clothes that were double your size, and switched out your things for stuff you'd normally wear in the Winter/Fall.
König would start to pick up on this. Noticing that you started skipping meals or wearing clothes that weren't usually your type. He would gently pull you aside to find out what's wrong. Probably waiting until you were both lying in bed to ask, so you couldn't dodge his questions.
"Liebe," he said softly while repeatedly rubbing circles into your back. "is, everything alright with you?" He continued with pauses in his sentence. You mumbled out that you were fine but this answer didn't satisfy König. He pulls you up, rearranging y'alls position so that you were making direct eye contact with him. Even on his lap he still managed to hover over you.
He asks you once again with a more focused look in his eye. “Schatz, what's the matter with you? You have been acting so…different lately. You aren't yourself these past few days.” He says frowning.
Unable to hide it any longer you begin to cry into his arms, confessing that you don't feel worthy about being his partner. You tell him how you don't feel attractive and that you aren't comfortable with your body anymore. König pulls you into a hug, kissing your head while muttering “Oh Liebeling, can't you see how beautiful/handsome you are? You shouldn't hide or change any part of yourself. You are so perfect the way you are, that's why I fell in love with you in the first place.” He says solemnly while cupping your face.
To counter the way you're feeling König would start spoiling you with brand-new clothes, taking photos of you, and giving lots of attention to parts of your body. Don't like your stretch marks? He's tracing them up and down with his fingers smiling. Dislike your stomach/fat rolls, well he doesn't! It's natural and a sign that you're body is alive and you're well taken care of. Think your fat fingers are unappealing? He's already placing them on his face and gently kissing them.
König is going to make it his mission to make sure you feel good about yourself.
Even though his social anxiety is bad he would try and take you out places to flaunt you off. He wants you to know that you can come to him when you feel bad about yourself he's your boyfriend after all.
[A/N: That was the SFW now for me to be a horny degenerate with some once again mild (very self-indulgent) smut. Picking up from the crying part.]
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The only time König wants to see you cry is when he's overstimulating you, so after he's done soothing you he starts kissing his favorite parts of your body starting from top to bottom. He kisses your cheek before moving down to your neck, sucking and lightly grazing it. Spending a considerable König continues to go lower and lower until you're on your back and his mouth is on your heat.
He'd spend hours down on you, sucking your dick/clit, eating your ass/pussy making sure you feel loved. He gets so much pleasure from watching your legs shake after giving him your third orgasm. You're vision is hazy and you have your hands buried in his hair. You could feel him slightly humping the bed for some form of relief.
By the time you're done you're covered in sweat and ripped lingerie. Bite marks, hickeys n bruises are speckled all over your body. König would savor this moment forever keeping a polaroid photo safely tucked away just in case he misses you too much on a mission. <3
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daizymax · 2 months
Text
the ways we love | lfl (m)
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summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.
pairing: felix x fem reader
genre: smut
word count: 7.9k
rating: mature (18+)
warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare
author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!
( click here to read on AO3 instead )
---
He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.
But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”
You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”
Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.
You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”
Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.
He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”
You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”
He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”
You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”
Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”
“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”
You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”
“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”
You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”
“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.
“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.
He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.
These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.
So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.
“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.
You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”
Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.
---
It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.
Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.
A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.
It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.
This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.
[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]
There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.
[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]
You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.
You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do
[Felix: how come?]
[You: it’s finished]
This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.
“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.
“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.
“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”
More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”
“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”
Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”
Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”
“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”
There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.
“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.
He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”
He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.
---
The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.
“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”
“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.
The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.
“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”
“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”
“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”
You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”
“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”
His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.
The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.
“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.
“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.
As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.
“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”
Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”
You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”
“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”
“Ready,” you say.
“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”
---
The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.
Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.
When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.
For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.
The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”
“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”
“Twenty what?”
“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.
You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”
“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”
“I said I get it already!”
“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”
You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”
“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”
“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”
Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”
His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”
He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.
So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”
This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.
That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.
But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.
“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”
Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.
Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.
“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.
By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.
A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.
---
He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.
“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”
You growl playfully but say nothing.
“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”
“Don’t care.”
“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”
“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.
Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.
“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.
You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”
His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”
The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.
“What about here?” he whispers.
“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.
“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.
His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.
Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.
“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”
“Yes. Yes...”
He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”
You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”
“Come here.”
He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.
When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”
After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.
“Candle,” you answer.
He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.
You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”
“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”
You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”
“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”
You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.
Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.
“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.
You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.
“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”
“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”
Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”
You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.
“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”
You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.
“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.
“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”
Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.
“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”
The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.
Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.
When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”
“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.
Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”
He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.
“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.
You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.
Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”
You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.
“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”
With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.
You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.
Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.
“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”
Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.
“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”
You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”
“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.
“Yes.”
“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.
“I said yes,” you repeat again.
And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”
Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.
“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”
Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.
You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.
You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.
“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”
His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.
“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”
On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.
“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”
You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”
Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.
“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.
“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.
Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”
“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.
He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.
You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.
Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.
Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”
You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.
You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”
Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.
“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”
His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.
“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”
“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.
“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”
You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”
“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”
In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.
Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”
He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.
“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”
“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.
Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.
“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”
Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”
“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”
He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.
“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”
He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”
“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”
“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”
Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.
After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.
Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.
“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.
The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.
“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.
“Yes?”
Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”
A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”
“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”
You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.
“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”
You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”
Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.
Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.
And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.
---
if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡
copyright © 2024 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist
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alexandriasea · 1 year
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Brett Hand as Your Boyfriend ♡
F!Reader x Brett Hand
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Includes: Fluff and a few squeezes of Lemon ♡
Warnings: Swearing, Nsfw
-Before he started dating you he just had a crush on you, he mistakened his feelings for just being platonic
-He realised that it was romantic when he told Andre about how stressed out he was about it.
"They're always on my mind- i'm constantly worried for them Andre..."
Andre stared at Brett "Holy shit"
-After that it hit him like a brick that he had a crush on you.
-Please, before Brett told you how he felt he had a playlist dedicated to you. It had "Accidentally in love" from the shrek two sound track, it also had hot freaks songs "puppy princess", "Girlfriend", and "i want to be your boyfriend"
-He listened to it before work just to get butterflies
-Felt threatened when a guy would become close friends with you
"I don't know, Reader i'm getting a bad feeling about him"
-After he confessed you were shocked. Brett was jealous but it didn't seem like the kind for romantic attraction- you thought that he was just scared that you'll spend less time with him, as to which you were right about, however you didn't think of it in that way.
-On the first date he was a total gentleman (and he still is), he would open doors for you and shower you with compliments. Always offering if he could carry your bag the same way he did when you both first met at work and your hands were full with research papers.
-When he became more comfortable with new steps in the relationship he started snapping lots of selfies with you at work and at dates.
Most of the photos don't get posted but it's not for the reason you think.
"Why didn't you post this photo?" You asked as you gestured to the photo on his phone
"Well.. i guess that i just wanted it to be something only you and i get to see"
-He wants to keep things private, but he doesn't hesitate to show you off and talk about how cool you are
-total sweet dumby who is your biggest simp.
-If you're fine with it he will suprise you with a hug attack from behind
-If you two live together he's constantly asking for cuddles, and he loves spooning wheter he's the little spoon or the big spoon.
-Loves to cook you things in the morning!
Eg; Heart shaped pancakes, oatmeal with blueberries lined into a heart, eggs and bacon that forms a happy smiley face :)
-If you complain about your day he'll be right at your command to make things better for you
-Matching sleepwear 😔 he got it for you when you first moved in with him.
-If you both go shopping in a clothing store he's not ashamed to hold up a piece from the racks
"Reader, this'll look amazing on you!" Brett called as he held up a white dress
-straight up worships you at this point.
-Y'know that playlist he has for you i mentioned earlier? He still has it and everytime he hears a song that reminds him of you he adds it into the growing playlist.
-If you coo about how cute and pretty or handsome he is he'll bury his face into your chest and squeal in delight
-In bed? Yeah he's a horny rabbit. Wait- it doesn't even have to be in the bed, as long as you're both on something comfy he'll get in the mood (like a couch)
-He's a gentle kinda guy, it doesn't matter what your height, weight, or build is like, he just doesn't want to hurt you.
-He's giving average length, but it's still up to you to decide.
-He's a switch. But he's mostly bottom.
-Probably calls you mommy.
-He's begging on his knees for you to touch him
-Please be gentle with him, he has a degradation and praise kink, if you degrade him don't push it too far, he'll start crying when you guys are finished.
-Call him a good boy and that'll really get him going, he'll start huffing as he thrusts into you and reach his climax faster the more you call him a good boy and praise him.
-He whines and whimpers (HE IS NOT AFRAID TO MAKE THOSE SOUNDS.)
"Ahmmm, Reader, please" Brett whined as his knees started to buckle "I-i'm so close"
He was pinning you down onto the bed, his hands holding yours down.
"Brett-" you moaned before you could finish your sentence
-I can see you calling him "puppy"
-Once asked if you could tie him down to the bed as you fuck his brains out
-And so you did.
Brett watched you as you finish tying the knots, you made sure they were tight but not too tight that it hurts him.
"Are you sure about this?"
Brett nodded
You started by running your hands up and down his torso, making sure that everytime you carress him you're looking him straight in the eyes. He winced when you suddenly tilted his chin up "Aren't you pretty?"
You continued to tease him by straddling him and gently grinding against his clothed cock.
"R-reader.."
You cupped his soft cheeks and kissed him "Good boy" you praised your sweet brunette
-For aftercare you and Brett take a bath together. You'd wash his hair and he'd wash your back. And then he'll change the sheets and the cuddling would begin. He's very sweet and he always asks you for feedback, he wants to make his girlfriend the most happiest being on earth after all!
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lillypad910 · 10 months
Text
Chocolate Cake Milkshakes
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chubby!Girly!F!Reader
Word count: 2450
Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Smut, protected sex, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), pet names (Sweetheart, Princess), parent/child favoritism that’s not reader, perfect older sibling and disappointment younger child dynamic (only for a bit), a little bit of fat shamming. Not proof read, sorry for errors!
Summary: You have a date with your boyfriend Eddie Munson, who, like the gentleman he is, picks you up from home. Your mom favors your sister once again but you don’t let it deter you from the dinner your boyfriend takes you on at Benny’s for your favorite shakes and the rest of the date spent in his van by the lake.
A/n: for my fellow chubby girls that get told they don’t need that milkshake, or can’t wear that dress, or eat like a child. You are seen, and you are PERFECT. Be that main character I know you are.
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All images found on Pinterest
Eddie couldn’t help but feel excited as he pulled his van into your driveway. His heart pounding in his chest as he stepped out of the still turned on vehicle before walking up to your front door. After a single push of the doorbell, the obnoxious ringing being heard even from outside, your door swings open. Your mother stood before him, smiling.
“Why hello, Eddie!” She greets him, “Come in, (y/n) should be ready in a moment.” She opens the door wider to let the tall boy in.
Your mother is a known individual among the residents of Hawkins, being an ex cheerleading captain when she was in her prime. Still to this day she has kept her shape.
Eddie sits in the living room on the plush plaid couch, glancing around the room. He had been to your house a few times already, but never explored. He’s always just snuck in through your window at night after your parents had gone to bed, so he takes the opportunity to look around.
There are pictures all around the room of your parents and your older sister, Stacy, but he notices fairly quickly how there are significantly less pictures of you. He sees the pictures of Stacy in the Hawkins Pageant, winning first place every time, her cheerleading photos, her photo as prom Queen and her graduation photo, but the only pictures he sees of you are you with the rest of the family. Specifically one catches his eye, you were a lot younger, maybe three or four. You were standing in front of the water at the beach, your hands in the sand as your swimsuit top’s strap was hanging off your shoulder.
“Mom, have you seen my pearl necklace? I can’t find-” you step into the living room, stopping when you see Eddie. You had on a cute dress that flowed out after your waist, cutting off at your knees. “Oh! I didn’t know you were already here! I’ll be ready in just a second, I’m sorry to keep you waiting!” You hold up your hands defensively before walking into your kitchen. “What was that, dear?” Your mother asks. “My pearl necklace, do you know where it is? I can’t find it-” she cuts you off before you can finish, “Oh! Yes, Stacy has it, she asked if she could borrow it from you last week, I guess she hasn’t brought it back yet.” Your mom simply smiles, unfazed by your smile dropping.
“What? Mom, I told you I don’t like her using my jewelry! That was Granny’s! She gave it to me-!” “Well, Stacy wanted it, you know I can’t say no to her, dear.” You sigh, being reminded like always that Stacy’s wants are more important than your own. “Now run along and finish getting ready, you’re making poor Eddie wait on you for too long. Also,” your mother glances at Eddie before turning back to you and looking you up and down, “are you sure you want to wear that dress? I mean…” she leans over and pats at your stomach.
Your eyes widen and you subconsciously suck in your belly. “I… I thought it was cute…” you try to defend your decision. “If you say so…” your mother goes back to making dinner for herself and your father. You sigh before running back upstairs to find a different necklace.
You don’t bother changing, thinking your mom was just being how she usually is. That’s until you stand in front of your mirror one final time, noticing the subtle chub of your stomach poking out of the loose fabric of your dress. But before you can even begin to pick out another dress, you remind yourself you have a poor boy downstairs waiting on you, with your mother.
You enter the living room once more, smiling at the lanky guy on your couch. “Sorry,” his head snaps in your direction when you speak. “Ready to go?” He asks you, standing up from the couch. You nod, and your mom comes running in. “You two have fun! Eddie, make sure to have her home by 11, please.” Eddie nods, “Yes, ma’am, I will.” You both leave, and as you step out of the door frame, Eddie’s fingers intertwine with yours, making you smile.
“So,” you speak once the door shuts behind you, “Where ‘re we going tonight?” He looks back at you and smiles, “I was thinking going to Benny’s for food before heading to the lake? Wayne’s off tonight so I don’t really wanna go back to my place.” His face flushes at the inclination. “Sounds good!” You smile, walking up to his van, “I’ve honestly been craving one of Benny’s chocolate cake milkshakes, those things are diabetes in a cup but they are so good!”
When you both make it to the diner, Benny greets you with a smile, “Good to see you two again,” he pours some coffee into the mug of one of the costumers at the counter before making is way over to you as you both slid into a booth by the windows. “Always happy to have regulars! Let me guess, two chocolate cake shakes and a double quarter pounder with cheese, extra fries” he says pointing at Eddie, “and a 6 piece tender basket with honey, buttered toast, and cheese curds?” he points at you. You both smile as Eddie leans over the table to you, “do we seriously come here that much?” You can’t help but laugh. “Apparently.”
When the food is brought out to you, you both dig in quickly. “I swear I will never get over this shake,” you say, leaning back into the booth’s cushion as you suck up the delicious chocolatey goodness from the large straw. Eddie nods, shoving fry that he dipped into the whipped topping into his mouth. “For real, you’ll have to beg him for the recipe one day.”
Eddie watches you sit the glass down, before ripping a tender in half and dipping it into the sauce cup of honey, quickly shoving the steaming chicken into your mouth. The soft hum that escapes you as your body sways side to side, eyes closing out of pure glee from the taste of the food.
Eddie was always happy watching you eat, from your little dances to excited squeals when the food was placed in front of you, he never got tired of it. He loved seeing you all happy.
After the plates were emptied and your shakes sucked down, Eddie went up to the counter to pay, leaving you alone to suck the last remaining drops of your shake. When he returns, he laughs as he watches you suck up the air in the glass, aggressively trying to get whatever you could out. You finally sit the glass down, “ok I’m done.” He chuckles and holds out his hands, which you take, and he helps pull you out of the booth.
You both drive down to the lake, heads banging to his new cassette tape by Metallica, his long curly hair whipping around as you giggle. “Eddie!” You laugh, trying to fix his hair when he finally stops, getting it out of his face so he can actually see.
When you pull into the lake, the sun has already set and he turns to you, “So,” he smiles, suddenly all sheepish. “What do you- hey!” You quickly unbuckle and squeeze yourself to the back of the van. His litter of blankets and pillows cover the hard surface of the folded back seats and his trunk floor. “Oh come on, Munson, don’t look at me like that.” You place your chubby cheek against the side of the headrest of your original seat. He unbuckles, that cute toothy grin on his face, before shoving himself in between the seats with you. You giggle as you pull him through, grabbing at his arm and pulling towards yourself.
When he flops through, falling with his back flat onto the bed of the van, you quickly lean over him. Your lips interlock, his arms quickly grabbing at your waist and pulling you on top of him. At first you’re hesitant, not wanting to put all your weight on the scrawny guy, but he quickly pushing your arms out from under you, making you fall flat on him.
“Eddie..!” You giggle when he kisses across your nose and cheeks. “What?” He pulls away, his brown doe eyes staring back at you. You huff, faking annoyance as you sit up, and lay your back against the side of his van. “Sweetheart,” he flips over and crawls to you, his hands brushing up your legs, as he smiles up at you, before lowering himself down to place soft kisses on your left knee. “Don’t be mad at me,” he smirks, obviously knowing you’re not actually mad at him.
His lips graze over your legs, placing soft kisses down your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you want him. “Eds…” you lower your hand down to cup his cheek as his corse fingers ride up your thighs, pushing your dress up to reveal your panties for him.
“You’re already all wet for me, Princess,” he brushes his thumb against the edge of your panties by your right inner thigh, his other hand squeezing at the fat of your left thigh. You blush, your breath suddenly getting heavy as you breathe harder. He hooks his finger around your underwear, pulling them down your legs before dropping them into the front seat. “So pretty.” He stares down at your slit, his fingers pulling your folds open. You watch him lick his lips, making you whimper. “Eds,” he looks up at you, pupils all dilated, that lovely brown color now just black. He moves closer to you, leaving a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving one on your neck. He lowers himself down lifting your legs to be over his shoulders as he goes below your dress.
You moan as his tongue moves over your folds, lapping up around your entrance. “E-Eddie…!” You gasp as his fingers dig into your hips, creating small crescents in your fat. His tongue moves slow at first, licking stripes from your slit to your clit, before flattening over your cunt. His nose brushes into your clit and you gasp, reaching down and grabbing at his hair. “S-Shit…! Eddie…!” You moan when his tongue plunged into you, spreading you open.
He pulls his tongue away only replacing it with two fingers, thrusting them into you slowly while his mouth returns to your clit. You mewl over the sensation, your legs shaking as your thighs press against the sides of his head.
His hips start grinding into the bed of his trunk, trying to get any kind of friction he can. You grip tighter at his hair, holding him in place as you come undone on his tongue, gasping for air as your vision goes white.
Eddie pulls away from you, his fingers leaving your cunt to your annoyance. “Did…” he tries to catch his breath, “did I do good?” You laugh airily, still having your brain a bit fuzzy from the orgasm he just gave you. “Holly shit, Eds. Yes.” You reach out to him and pull him closer to you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses back eagerly, the taste of you still on his lips and chin.
“Eds, I need you,” you pull away from his lips, placing soft kisses down his neck. He groans at the attention. “Fuck… ok, I know.” He pulls away for a moment, reaching into his front seat and opening the glove compartment. He comes back into view opening a condom out of the foil. He unbuckles his jeans before pulling down his boxers. You will never get over the utter size this skinny boy is when his cock smacks against his stomach.
Eddie rolls the condom down on himself, before grabbing at your thighs and lifting your legs. Your breath hitches as he presses his tip against you. You stare up at him, reaching up and cupping his face, before pulling him closer for another sloppy kiss.
You moan as his cock pushes in you, flattening your palms against the base of his neck. You nosed brush against each other as you breathe against his lips, “fuck…” he groans, placing his hands firmly on your waist, pulling you closer, letting you bottom out on his dick. “S-shit, just sitting like this feels good.” You laugh a bit, laying your head on his shoulder as he pulls you away from the side of the van, laying you against the floor of the trunk.
You moan when he starts moving, his hips softly thrusting into you, not wanting to overpower you just yet. “Shit…” he leans over you, your legs up around his waist as his are folded by your hips, constrained by the small space. “Eddie…” you moan into his ear, making him start thrusting faster. He groans, finding your hands in his before pressing them into the pillow by your head. “Fuck… you feel so good, Sweetheart.” He moans, beginning to thrust harder.
You both gasp and moan as he thrusts into you. Before long his thrusts get sloppy, and his hands drop yours, moving down to your hips, now pushing you down against his cock. “E-Eddie…!” You grip at his shoulders, both of your bodies sweating from the vans heating and the body heat you are both creating.
“God, fuck… need you to cum again, baby, please? Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.” He moves one hand in between you both, rubbing his thumb against your clit. You gasp, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer. You whimper as he leans down and kisses you again, your stomach pressing into his. You tits and belly fat rock with his thrusts, his fingers rolling your clit as you come undone around his cock. He groans at the feeling as your pussy flutters around him, his thrusts getting harder. “Eddie…!” You gasp, your post orgasm unable to come down from the high.
Almost immediately, Eddie drops his head on your shoulder, his hair damp from his sweat as he finishes.
For a moment, you both just lay there, entangled legs and arms around each other, bodies squished in the confines of his van’s trunk. You run your fingers through your hair. “You ok there, Eds?” You ask, a small giggle leaving you. “Yeah,” he sighs, “yeah, just… Need a second.” He presses his nose into you neck, leaving soft kisses on your skin. “Not gonna lie to ya, Sweetheart, you kinda tasted like one of those milkshakes.”
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