#I just wanna kiss him on his helmet so bad

[ladyzirkonia]

Tech in ''Faster'' - Part 2

Bonus:

Yes I'm thirsty and simping for Star Wars jeans.

[toyogamii]

pt.1 pt.2

“i didn’t take you for the sit down restaurant type, ryo,” you bring your drink up to your lips and offer him a teasing smirk. he huffs and pulls at the collar of his black button down.

he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to get him, ryomen sukuna, resident town bad ass; on an actual date. but the way that sweet nickname you’ve taken to calling him rolls of your tongue might have something to do with it.

“hah, I’m usually not… figured you might be though,” he mumbles the last part, his ears turning a slight pink and you grin.

“well i appreciate you trying something new for me,” you look around at the candles and the suits and ties and most importantly at the gorgeous tattooed man in front of you (who looks so awkward in the most adorable way possible).

“however,” you continue, “i’d much rather you be comfortable for our date.”

“yeah?” he asks, giving you a grateful smile.

you nod.

“wanna get outta here?”

he flashes you a charming grin.

“hell yeah… though you might regret asking that, sweetheart.”

mere moments later you’re flying down the road, your heart pounding as you hold tight to sukuna’s waist. he’s graceful and calm as he drives the motorcycle but that does little to slow your breathing.

you’re wearing his helmet, but even through the darkened screen you can still see just how handsome he is. the street lights give him a halo like effect and the wind whips through his pink hair, pushing it out of his face.

“just a couple more minutes, doll!” he hollers over the sound of the wind and you nod, leaning your head on his broad back as best you can.

when he finally comes to a stop and you get off, your legs are still shaking and you take just a minute to gather yourself before looking around.

“takin me to a second location to dump my body off?” you ask, a brow raised.

sukuna gives you a dead pan look and pulls the helmet off your head. he freezes for just a minute as he takes in the way your hair is a mess and your makeup is a bit smudged but your eyes are crinkling and your smile is- god your smile is gonna fucking kill him one of these days.

“not funny,” he replies when he finally moves, flicking your forehead. you scrunch your face into a pout and god he wants to kiss you silly.

“where are we exactly?”

“come on.”

he turns and walks off and you hurry to catch up with him, slipping your hand into his. it takes everything in him not implode. your hand is warm and soft and so much smaller than his.

you’re killing him, he thinks, and yet… he doesn’t really seem to mind it. usually, the sound of someone rambling on and on would annoy the piss out of him. but listening to you chatter as he guides the both of you through the dark and dense patch of trees… if you’re killing him, he could die a happy man.

“we’re here,” he says. you peek around in him and gasp softly. you’re on a hill, overlooking the entirety of your home town. the street lights blare and you can hear the faint sounds of the city but the contrasting of the soft twinkling stars and the warmth of sukuna’s hand in yours has you reeling.

“it’s beautiful,” you murmur.

“i used to take yuuji here… before i had full custody of him. just to get him away from all… that.”

you nod and rest your head on his shoulder, not pushing him any further.

“i’m sure he loved it.”

sukuna chuckles and his arm makes its way around your waist.

“yeah, little brat would cry and cry when we had to leave. he won’t even remember it when he’s older though.”

you look up at him only to see he’s already looking down at you.

“you’ll remember it.”

“… yeah.”

there’s silence, a pause where time stops and suddenly the rest of the world fades away to nothing. it’s just you and him in a little bubble, away from all the craziness of the world.

before you can open your mouth to say anything, sukuna’s lips on yours. the kiss is everything that he isn’t; soft, gentle, hesitant. your arms come up to wrap around his neck and his grip on your waist tightens.

he never wants to stop kissing you. he can’t get enough of the way your tongue feels sliding against his and how your body trembles slightly as he holds you.

yeah… you’re gonna kill him one of these days, he just knows it.

pt. 4

[simonsrileyhusband]

requested on dm, nsfw:

you fidget with the case of your phone as you wait for simon to arrive, you politely nod and smile to your coworker who wouldnt leave you alone, his mouth never shutting and his unwanted flirting still going, even when you have told him multiple times that you have a boyfriend. (one that could break every bone of his body if he wanted to)

"so, where is that boyfriend of yours?"

"on his way..."

"maybe he left you sweetheart, i could take you home if you like~"

you take a step to the side, trying to be as far from him as you could. a smile forming into your face when you hear the loud engine of simons bike parking infront of you.

"sorry lovie, traffic got bad."

you dont say anything, just rush into his arms that wrap around you immediately, he is scanning the situation, his eyes landing on that guy you keep bickering about, his blood boils and he sees him stare at you, if he could he would punch him in the face until he can't smile amymore... but he likes visiting you at work, so he has to think of something else.

"lets go home~"

simon helps you put on your helmet and makes sure your arms are wrapped properly around his torso.

the ride home is nice and quiet, and once you arrive he holds your hand all the way to the apartment. once he closes the door he will take off your jacket, put down your backpack, make you lay on the bed, take off your shoes. his body on top of yours, leaving sweet kisses on your face as his hands rub your waist.

"why so lovey-dovey simon?"

"wanna make you feel good... let me, please"

you nod and kiss his cheek, his bulky hands unbuttoning your shirt, taking it off gently.

"you are mine, you know that, right?"

"yes simon, is everything all right?"

he growls into your neck, kissin and bitting on it.

"mine, mine, mine..." he will whisper as he leaves red marks all over your neck and chest, his hands cupping and gripping all over your body.

"ill make sure he doesnt bother my baby anymore" down went your pants and underweare, simon made sure to make you feel good... really good, he didn't stopped until you were a mess under him.

the next day, when he dropped you off at work, he took off his helmet, grabbed you by the waist and kissed you infront of your (shitty) coworker, your pretty cheeks red, and a little hickey picking over your button up, a proud smirk grows on simons face when you wave at him as you enter the building.

his loving stare and smile drop to a killer gaze, staring at that excuse of a man until he runs into the building.

[arieslost]

you have pushed me to ask so here I go

I present my idea of motorcyclist!oscar and his gf who is afraid of motorcycles. He convinces her to try it onc3 and BOOM hands around him holding on the dear life.

I want to hold on to him

I can't stop thinking about that tiktok

here's a ss I took from the tiktok edit

what a yummy man

the entire time i wrote this i kept coming back to look at this picture because oh my goodness gracious. i hope this lives up to ur expectations <33 definitely wanna write more biker!osc after this

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

hold on tight | op81

“Just one time?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No way.”

“Do you even love me at all?” Oscar asks dramatically, jutting his lower lip out for extra effect. 

“That’s not going to work on me, Piastri.” You shake your head vehemently. “I refuse to get on that death machine. It’s bad enough that you ride it all the time.”

“Come onnnn,” he whines, tugging you up off of the bed and into his arms. 

The two of you look like polar opposites— him with his leather jacket and riding gloves still on, smelling faintly of exhaust, and you in plaid pajama pants and one of his worn out t-shirts. You suppose that’s what makes your relationship work so well, opposites attract and whatever. All relationships take compromise though, and this is one “compromise” that, thus far, you’ve refused to make. 

In your eyes, it’s not a compromise. But Oscar has been asking you to be his “backpack” practically since the two of you met. 

“What do I have to do to convince you?” He’s asking, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Hmm, nothing.” You smile up at him, and it fades just as fast when you see the excitement in his eyes. “Because it’s never going to happen. I like being alive, thank you very much.”

“Baby, you know you’ll be safe with me. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” He says sincerely, his pleading tone now gone. “I’ve been riding my entire life. I did all the crashing before I got my license. Haven’t crashed since.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You mutter, hiding your face in his chest so he can’t see your resolve slowly starting to crumble. 

“It would be so fun,” he continues, arms tightening around your frame as he starts to sway you both side to side a little. “All you’d have to do is hold on to me. I’ll do all the work. You trust me, don’t you?” 

“With all things except the death machine,” you say, voice muffled by the material of his jacket. 

“I love you, but I’m gonna need you to stop calling her ‘the death machine,’ honey.”

“Her?” You look up at him, affronted. “I’m definitely not doing it now. Wouldn’t want to get between you and the other woman in your life.” 

Oscar laughs. His laugh has always been more of a giggle around you, which is such a contrast to his outward appearance that it never fails to make you melt. 

“You’re the only woman for me, which is why you’re the only woman I’ve ever asked to be my backpack.” He says. 

“Don’t try to butter me up with the whole backpack thing again.” You roll your eyes and try to pull away from him, but he somehow manages to twirl you and bring you right back into him. 

“It’s not me buttering you up, I’m just telling the truth. Come on, baby.” he leans in and gives you a long kiss that leaves your head spinning a little. “One time. And if you don’t like it, I promise I won’t ask again.” 

You let out a frustrated groan, because he has to know that he’s won at this point. That kiss was nothing but tactical. “Fine. Fine. But you can’t just kiss me like that every time you want something from me, it’s unfair.” 

“Yes, yes!” He squeezes you into him, kissing the top of your head over and over. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already am a little bit.” You grumble. 

That’s how you find yourself standing on the sidewalk with Oscar in front of you adjusting a helmet on your head. 

“This is making me claustrophobic,” you complain as he flips the visor up so he can see your face. 

“I’m just making sure you’re safe, baby.” When you furrow your eyebrows, he sighs and drops his hands to his sides. “If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to, okay?”

This makes you relent a little bit. “Osc, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t like motorcycles, like, at all.” You smile as best you can with the helmet on, hoping it goes to your eyes so he can see it. “I want to do this. You just… you really have to help me.” 

He nods, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Of course, honey. C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to his motorcycle. While you’re terrified just looking at it, you can’t deny that it’s absolutely beautiful. Streamlined and sleek, like he literally just bought it, even though you know he’d already had it for a year when you first met him. 

He looks almost the same as he did when you first met— all black getup, signature leather jacket, riding gloves, and of course, his strangely colorful helmet that doesn’t match the rest of him. His hair was long when you met him, and you still remember being absolutely starstruck when you saw his face for the first time. It had felt like everything went into slow motion when he took his helmet off, pushed his hair back, and instantly made eye contact with you from where you were just exiting the bookstore. 

Needless to say, you were done for. And now here you are, a year later, letting him help you onto the death machine. 

He never said you had to stop calling it (sorry, her) that if you were thinking it to yourself. 

“You okay? Comfy?” Oscar asks, reaching to adjust your helmet one more time. 

“Yup. Mhmm. Totally.” You nod, not even trying to sound convincing considering your heart is in your throat and he hasn’t even started the engine yet. 

“Great,” he kisses the top of your helmet and smiles at you cutely before climbing onto the bike so he’s seated in front of you. “Just hold on tight, okay baby? Like this.” 

He reaches behind him, grabbing your hands that had been anxiously scratching at the material of your jeans and pulling you forward so your arms are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t have to say anything else– you’re quick to tighten your hold around him, fingers clutching at the material of his open jacket. You immediately feel your anxieties begin to dissipate as soon as you’re holding onto him, and you shift your whole body forward on the seat so your front is pressed as close as it can be to his back. When he lets out a quiet grunt, you release your grip a little. 

“I’m sorry! Am I holding you too tight?” “No, no,” he huffs out a laugh, patting your thigh. “Do whatever you need to do. Just warn me if you’re planning to suffocate me at all.”

“Listen, Piastri–” you begin, and he cuts you off by twisting around to look at you.

“Okay, I get it, I’m sorry.” He’s giggling now, and you let go of him to smack his helmet. “I’m done, I promise. As long as you feel safe, honey.”

“Come on, let’s go before I chicken out.” You say, quickly reassuming your hold.

It’s times like these where you appreciate just how buff your boyfriend is. He has something of a sleeper build, so one quick glance at him wouldn’t really reveal much, but when you’re pressed up against him like this, you can feel the muscles in his back and shoulders and his abs through his shirt when your hand slips past his jacket. He’s warm and solid against you, and that in itself is comforting enough that you don’t go flying off the seat when he starts up the engine and you instantly feel your whole body start to vibrate from the force of it.

“I’ll check in with you, okay?” He says over the loud rumbling. “Hit me in the head or something and I’ll pull over. Sound good?” Having him to hold on to is nice, but your throat is still dry thinking about all the dastardly possibilities that could occur when the bike starts moving, so you have to swallow a couple times in order for him to hear you over the engine. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Your heart falls out of your ass and lands on the pavement when he pulls out onto the road, the engine roaring as he accelerates. 

“God, please spare me,” you say out loud, grateful that Oscar can’t hear you over the engine. 

As soon as he gets onto the freeway, that’s when you realize just how much fun you’ve been missing out on.

It’s never been a secret to you that Oscar loves going fast. There have been plenty of occasions where you’ll drive somewhere, do whatever it is you have planned, and then you’ll turn to him and ask if he wants to drive home just to give him some peace of mind knowing that the journey back will be cut down by a few minutes at least. Being in the car is fun enough, but being on the back of his motorcycle is different.

You thought you’d be more scared. You’re terrified, sure, but even though you can feel the wind whipping against your clothes and you’re flying past cars on either side of the freeway, you’re holding on to Oscar, and you could easily do that forever. You’re quickly warming up to the concept of being his backpack, and you can feel yourself relaxing your death grip around him. This is actually kind of fun. Okay, really fun. You actually can’t believe you were so adamantly refusing to do this this whole time. 

Every so often, he reaches back with one hand and rubs your thigh, or holds one of your hands that is now tucked comfortably into his jacket pocket. You thought you’d be freaking out about him taking a hand off the handlebars, but he exudes confidence on the bike, and he never wavers no matter what he’s doing with his hands. 

He doesn’t go very far; the whole ride lasts maybe 20 minutes, but it feels like half that with how quick the bike is. Your arms ache from all the muscles in them working the whole time, and when he helps you off the back of the bike your legs feel like jello.

“How was it?” He asks, helping you pull the bulky helmet off your head. 

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it away for you before you can even lift your hands. He cups your cheeks, a small smile on his face as he admires you.

“We are definitely doing that again.” 

His smile grows, and he places a sweet, adoring kiss on your lips. “I knew I finally found my backpack.” 

word count: 1,787

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: writing this has me thinking up a whole biker au for multiple drivers... thank you for this gold mine of a request <33

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings

[azulpitlane]

just pr I ln4

pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader summary: after being caught hooking up with lando, you both decide it would be good for your images to fake date. too bad you hate each other. notes: been loving enemies to lovers rn🫣 masterlist

f1gossip

230,421 likes

f1gossip New WAG alert? After a night of partying, Lando Norris was pictured kissing Y/n Ricciardo outside the club! Onlookers claim they then went home together after this👀 He was seen having a private dinner with another girl just a few days ago and rumored to have brought a different girl on his ski trip a few weeks ago.

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user lando is on a streak LOL

user this is so random?!? i was not expecting this duo but im here for it HAHA

user no cause she rarely attends races but when she does shes never seen with lando?😭

user omg he better not play my girl, I love y/n

user WHAT DOES DANIEL THINK OF THIS OMG

user I wanna read the family gc so bad...

user wait they would be so cute

user is he finally settling down omg

user I hope so, I lowkey see them together

user im here for it!! shes so much better than these other girls hes been seen with

notification center

danny what. were. you. thinking. you're in so much trouble missy call me ASAP!!!

y/bff/n LANDO NORRIS?!?!? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM BEING A PIECE OF SHIT??? girl we need to debrief last night

lando norris we need to talk

Fucking fantastic.

Based on your notifications, you put two and two together and realized you were paparazzi'd with none other than the man you hated the most. You and Lando had a very complicated relationship to say the least. You had met when your brother, Daniel, joined McLaren and from the start he had given you the cold shoulder. You didn't know what you did wrong and tried to be kind to him, but after a while you stopped when he dismissed you like a child. You thought you would get along with him after Danny had told you about his interest in photography. You yourself were a photographer and decided to take the year traveling with your brother to capture some photos in F1, but you had figured the fame was getting to Lando especially after his breakup with his girlfriend. He was starting to bring different girls to the garage in every race and you would never see them again after.

You remember your last interaction with him in the McLaren garage in the final race of the '22 season was when the complicated part of your relationship began.

"What are you doing here, y/n? This is a place for serious professionals, not hobbyists."

"Lando, always the charmer. I'm here to photograph greatness."

"Greatness? You wouldn't know greatness if it lapped you on the track."

"Well, I'm pretty sure greatness doesn't come with an ego the size of your car."

"Watch your tone, y/n. This is a dangerous place, not a playground for kids."

"I can handle myself, Lando. Unlike some people, I don't need a helmet to protect my head."

Both your eyes were filled with hatred as they interlocked, each refusing to back down. As the race begins, y/n continues to snap photos, capturing Lando's intense focus and determination.

After the race, both Lando and Daniel were disappointed they were not able to get into the podium on their last race of the season. Your brother asked for some time alone so you approached Lando, camera in hand, knowing it would be the last time you were in the same garage as him.

"Tough race, Lando. I got some incredible shots, though."

"Don't patronize me, y/n."

"You know for what it's worth, I saw a different side of you on the track this season. It's like you're fighting not just against other drivers, but against something within yourself.

"What are you talking about?"

"I may be the younger sister of your teammate, but I'm not blind. There's more to you than the arrogant facade you put on."

After that conversation, you began seeing Lando less and less considering your brother was now racing in AlphaTauri and you were hardly at the paddock anymore. The few times you did see Lando, the tension had shifted into something different. But it was now winter break and you and Lando were both back in Monaco.

You had gone out last night and you did not believe your luck when you saw Lando in the same club with a smirk on his face. Determined to show you could rise above the tension, you decided to lose herself in the pulsating rhythm of the music. As you moved to the beat, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Lando.

"Surprised to see me, princess?" He looked at you with a mocking smile knowing the nickname would rile you up.

"Surprised to see you alone at a club and not wrapped up with some girl? Yes, actually."

"Didn't take you for the jealous type, I like it."

Against your better judgment, you found herself drawn into banter with him. The tension between you turned into a strange kind of chemistry as you exchanged barbs, each remark escalating in intensity. A few drinks were exchanged and you slowly began to lose your guard around him and eventually ending up on his bed that night.

You groaned at the memory of last night's mistake and decided it was best to text Lando back before anyone else to get your story straight. He quickly replied saying he was on his way and you began to straighten yourself up.

"You know usually when I hook up with a girl I don't see her the next morning. Consider yourself lucky y/n."

"Still arrogant as ever, even when we're both fucked right now."

"Well you're a little more fucked than I am really."

"Just get in here Lando." You opened the door to let him in and quickly shut it afraid you would be pictured together again.

"I've got good news for you sweetheart. My team has made a plan to sort this mess out."

"Go on with it. What is it?"

"Jeez feisty in the mornings, heh? But congratulations, you are officially my girlfriend, we've been dating for a few weeks now and have kept it under wraps to figure out our feelings for each other privately."

"A fake relationship? That's your solution? No fucking way."

Lando sighed and rolled his head back in annoyance. He knew you were immediately going to shut this idea down but he had planned what he was going to say beforehand and knew what to say to convince you.

"You think I want to do this? My team needs me to do this, I haven't exactly looked like a saint these past few weeks and hooking up with my friend's sister behind his back isn't going to make me look any better."

"And what's that got to do with me?"

"Well in case you haven't noticed, this doesn't look good on your part either princess. There's some hateful people on the internet already slut shaming you and saying you betrayed your brother. If we tell people we were already dating prior to these pictures, it lessens the hate. Not only that, are you really going to tell Danny you had a meaningless one night stand with one of his friends?"

You knew he had a point. Danny wasn't going to be happy if he found out about the brewing tension between you and Lando.

"Please y/n, the internet already likes us together. This would be good for us."

"Lando Norris saying please? Wow, never thought I'd see the day." You genuinely were shocked at his desperateness for you to agree, you didn't think about how this affected him as much it did you.

"Yeah, yeah. It's only for a few months then we could go back to pretending we dont exist to each other."

"Okay fine, just for a few months. And I'm doing this for Danny, not for you." You quickly agreed not really thinking it would be that big of a deal. Just a few posts and appearances together and this would be over before you knew it.

"I knew you'd give in." Lando gave you one of his infamous smirks and planted a kiss in the corner of your mouth. "Now come on we need some pictures to make this convincing."

And so it begins.

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 3,294,240 others

landonorris secrets out

tagged yourusername

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user OMFG

user im actually so happy theyre so cute😭❤️

user WHAT WAS DANNYS REACTION

yourusername 🧡

danielricciardo on the next flight to monaco btw. maxverstappen1 yourusername ooouuu you're in troubleeee user LMFAO MAX user WAIT DID DANIEL NOT KNOW???

danielricciardo 🫠🫠

user AHAHAH he doesn't seem too happy user 💀

user am I tripping or is he holding y/ns camera🥹

user it looks like the one she always has on her I LOVE THEM ALREADY

user my new roman empire I won't shut up about them from now on

user wasn't lando just with other girls?

user he can have female friends!! its not impossible

part two??

[dollfacefantasy]

Cool Rider

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets you ready for a ride on his motorcycle

word count: 1.4k

a/n: just a little fluff drabble i've been thinking about while i go back and forth on my other longer fics. imagine this to be a little bit after vendetta when leon's starting to get better. hope everyone enjoys, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“Quit joking around or you’re not going anywhere,” Leon grunts as he continues to mess around with the tire pressure on the rear wheel of his motorcycle.

“I’m just saying-” you chime before being cut off.

“You’re saying nothing more or I’m changing my mind,” he says and gives you a warning look.

Despite his attempt at being stern with you, affection clouds his eyes. You play along for him and mime zipping your lips. With a sharp exhale and shake of his head at your antics, he returns his focus to fidgeting with the pressure gauge hooked to his bike. But you’re happy just because you saw him smile.

You’d been begging him for months to take you for a ride on his bike. Every time you’d asked, you were met with “no” or “in your dreams.” You’d always ask him why, and he’d just brush it off. Too dangerous. It’s something he does alone. You eventually just gave up. He deserved his space, and you knew he’d seen so much pain and death in his life that he was probably a little overprotective by nature. It came as an absolute shock to you when he approached you last week and asked if you’d wanna go for a ride this weekend. He’d said it so casually, like he hadn’t shot you down time after time before. You weren’t sure what had changed, but a win is a win, right?

Now sitting on the stool by the bench where he kept all his motorcycle stuff, you swing your feet back and forth. As much as you’d been teasing him for the last thirty minutes about taking forever and a half, it was fun seeing him so locked in on his task. You studied his face, the way his brows furrowed and his eyes hardened, his lips curling a little with dedication.

“Hey stalker girl, instead of staring me down, maybe you should finish getting ready,” he teases as he finishes up and starts putting the tools away.

“I am ready,” you say.

“No you’re not. Where’s your helmet?” he asks while walking to you.

“Mmmm… you don’t wear a helmet,” you playfully point out.

You were just being difficult because he was so easy to mess with. You weren’t dumb, and you had no desire for your brains to splatter across some pavement. In general, motorcycles kind of scare you to be honest. If anyone but Leon was driving it, you wouldn’t even consider hopping on the back. So there was absolutely no way you were gonna get on that thing without a helmet strapped on.

“I didn’t ask you if I wear one. Where’s yours?” he says.

He stands between your thighs and looks down at you, taking in your pretty eyes, pouty lips, the face he couldn’t get enough of. His fingers run along your jaw, his thumb stroking over your chin. Every detail had him enraptured. He made fun of you for staring, but truth be told, he was just as guilty. The only difference was he hid it much better than you did.

“I’ll get it in two seconds. You were just taking so long, I figured I had some time to relax,” you joke with a quick peck to his lips, hopping off your seat.

“You better get it. I want your pretty little head kept in one piece,” he murmurs and lays a kiss on your hairline. He lightly swats your ass as you walk away, drawing that laugh from you that he loved to hear. He’s smiling while grabbing the keys, not that you could see it with your back to him. You were easy to mess with too.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that I have to wear one if you don’t,” you say as you lift the helmet up and inspect the one he’d bought for you.

“Too bad. I know what I’m doing. You don’t. God forbid I actually let you do this, and you end up with a concussion or something,” he grumbles while grabbing the keys.

“If we get in a crash though, your experience won’t matter. We’ll both go flying all the same. Then you’ll be the one with the concussion or worse, and I’ll be flat outta luck having to take care of you,” you explain while fidgeting with the straps on the helmet.

“Here, gimme that,” he says, taking it from you. He fixes the straps and gets them where they should be. Yeah, you’re being intentionally stubborn, but you had a good point and he knew it. “If it’s so important to you, I can wear one too.”

“It is important to me. I always want you safe,” you say, taking a moment to be genuine between all your teasing.

“I know, baby,” he says softly. It’s all he could say. Obviously, with the life he had, he couldn’t “be safe” all the time. But god, you made him want to try.

He gives you one last kiss before putting the helmet on you. He fastens it into place, making sure it’s nice and tight. Tilting your head around, he inspects it thoroughly. Has to be certain this shell of hard plastic is gonna do its job and protect his precious girl. 

After he’s done examining the efficacy of the helmet, he pulls back to give you a once over. Really look at you.

“Does it look good?” you ask, voice slightly muffled.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, it looks good. Pretty cool,” he confirms.

Of course you looked more than good. The sight of you completely melted his heart. He just didn’t know how to say it. He’d never been too good with words when you were involved. You made everything foggy, hard to think.

He couldn’t see the grin on your face right now, but he could just about feel the excitement radiating off of you as you pulled him into a hug, the shiny dome covering your head resting over his heartbeat. His palm runs up and down your back before you pull away and head to the motorcycle.

“Are we ready to go?” you ask.

He could hear the anticipation in your voice too. It was infectious, made him want to get on and speed off without looking back. But he still had a little hesitation left. Rationally, he knew he’d done everything he could to make sure this would go smoothly. In all likelihood, you would just have some fun and then come back home and everything would be fine. The irrational part of him just wanted that to be 100% guaranteed. He’d lost so many people. He couldn’t survive losing you, especially to something as trivial as a motorcycle accident.

But he was stalling now, and he knew it. You deserved this. Deserved to have the fun he’d offered you. You’d been so good to him for the last several months, putting up with him when it would’ve been reasonable to leave him in your rearview mirror. He swallows his doubt and nods.

But as he sees you start to look at it like you’re gonna get on, he stops you.

“Wait a second,” he says, starting to shrug off his jacket, “It’s cold out, and with the wind and everything. Just put this on.”

He can’t see how you lovingly roll your eyes at this which is probably for the best anyways. Knowing him, he’d probably get all huffy and defensive about it. Argue the practicality of his decision rather than just admitting he’d gone soft for you.

Regardless, you let him wrap the leather around you, sliding your arms into the sleeves. You give him a thumbs up, and he pulls you close to him, thoughtlessly planting a smooch on the cool helmet like he’d normally do to your head.

“You better hold on tight. This isn’t a video game. You don’t get extra points for riding with no hands,” he teases before grabbing the extra helmet he had and putting it on.

This time you give a mock salute and watch him swing his leg over the seat. He waves you over and you gladly get on behind him. The warmth of your front presses against his back. He looks down, admiring the way your hands lock around his waist, your arms adorned in the white stripes of his jacket.

He wheels the bike out of the garage, taking a deep breath as checks to see that the street is clear. One more sigh and mental reassurance later, he’s speeding out onto the road. He knows it’s all worth it as soon as he hears your laughter and feels you clinging to him even harder.

[callsign-mayhem]

heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

Part Two Part Three

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too. 

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him. 

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly. 

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’ 

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious. 

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification. 

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow. 

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly. 

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then. 

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away. 

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted.  ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’  ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac. 

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone. 

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’  ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start.  Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing. 

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs. 

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection. 

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over. 

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that. 

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage. 

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’  ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either. 

Bradley needed another drink. 

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you. 

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him. 

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next. 

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed. 

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence. 

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’  Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’  ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later. 

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing. 

‘Y/N’s phone.’ 

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life. 

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’  ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse. 

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already. 

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him. 

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape. 

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed. 

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you. 

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad. 

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah. 

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time. 

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you. 

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand. 

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken. 

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way. 

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach. 

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley. 

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it. 

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders. 

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you. 

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly. 

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. 

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’ 

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out. 

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact. 

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love. 

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed. 

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night. 

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it. 

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way. 

Which was to say, it was a bad morning. 

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed. 

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now. 

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover. 

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast. 

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door. 

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time. 

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised. 

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again. 

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he 

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all. 

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee. He eyed you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check that you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly. 

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly.  ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’ 

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally. 

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’ 

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no. 

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’ 

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy. 

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’ 

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed. 

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try. 

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah. 

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop. 

‘Thanks for breakfast.’  You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you. 

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home. 

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave. 

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home. 

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’ 

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said. 

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else. 

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text. 

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise. 

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’ 

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would. 

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you?  ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’ 

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions. 

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts. 

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested. 

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever. 

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him. 

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time. 

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it. 

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’ 

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired.  You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much. 

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart. 

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. 

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’ 

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything. 

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly. 

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears. 

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly. 

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day. 

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them. 

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

[tojisun]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJEaoNP1/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJEaovH8/

the shirt tho😂❤️

THE FIRST ONE STILL MAKES ME WANNA CRY!!! i made a little drabble of it!! just biker!simon bunny-kissing you with his helmet and im!!! a wreck </333

THE SECOND ONE IS SO ATTRACTIVE AHHHH I LOVE SEEING THE LITTLE HEAD BOBS!!! and when he reached over to smack his partner’s thigh hhhhhh so fuckin cute! AND WHEN HE RESTED HIS HAND ON TOP OF HIS PARTNER’S??? WHO IS EMBRACING HIM AS HE CRUISES ALONG??? god theyre so cute im eating my fist actually

and that sweater??? i mean- all the girls (everyone tbh) are cummin first if their s/o is simon ‼️‼️ no lies detected heree

-

johnny sooo gave that sweater to simon!! it’s supposed to be a wee little payback from all the PDA he’s been subjected to. too bad for him, you and simon adore the sweater. simon thought you’d be shy because of it, and initially you were, but there’s something about seeing simon glow because the shirt is correct.

because you do cum first. simon fucks you so good that you always do. he’s so good with his fingers and his cock, but dear lord his mouth? the way he eats you out? the way his tongue fucks into your heat before licking a fat stripe along your twitching pussy lips? the way he sucks on your clit? the way he moans while eating you out, going cross-eyed because he loves, loves going down on you? the way he pants into your pussy, “cum for me baby. wanna taste you. please, wanna taste you.”?

you always cum so quick that simon has to press his wet face on the inside of your thighs to let you catch a quick break. just him beaming up at you because he’s covered with your slick before licking at his lips and groaning at how delicious you taste. just him nuzzling his face on your trembling legs, kissing, nipping, and worshipping each sliver of skin that he can get his greedy mouth on. it usually doesn’t take a while before you’re ready for more.

yeah. you and simon truly like that sweater.

(you buy johnny a retaliatory gift. a sweater that reads “puppy-coded” and. well. johnny likes it too.)

-

[corpsebasil]

Quit Staring

ethan brainrot dont talk to me this got me like 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

The Halloween party was loud. Extremely loud, and you could barely hear yourself think, let alone the guy that was attempting to hit on you.

“So like, I’ve got this cool new game upstairs. It’s called a Ouija Board and you talk like, to the dead and shit. Wanna try it out?”

What.

“Ouija? The game literally everyone knows about?” You took a long sip of your watered down vodka red-bull and looked the frat boy up and down. “You know there’s a movie right?”

“Ah whatever.” He seemed to be slurring a bit, blinking lazily at you. “Nice dress by the way. What are you, an angel?”

You only stared, wondering if barking at him would make him go away, when an arm slid around your waist and pulled you into their chest. You tensed before realizing it was just Ethan; he’d lost his helmet at some point in the night and his dark hair was a tad bit sweaty.

“She’s Juliet.” He told the guy, gesturing to his knight costume and your angel wings. “I’m Romeo.”

“Is that, like, a movie?” The frat boy asked, peering at you in confusion. You almost gawked.

“Dude are you serious?” Ethan’s eyebrow raised. The frat boy, looking suddenly a bit embarrassed, found himself somewhere else to be. “Jesus, what an idiot.”

You snorted and pulled away, turning to face him. He seemed a little tipsy but not too bad, his expression warm and eyes soft as they stared down at you.

“Thanks for saving me.” You said, reaching out to adjust his costume a bit. “I thought I was actually losing brain cells.”

“Yeah he—”

“Ohmygoood.” A girl cooed, pausing in front of the two of you. You raised your brows and took a sip from your rapidly emptying cup. “I love that movie.” The side eye Ethan gave you was so astronomical you almost spit out your drink. “Wow. And Leo is so hot, right?” She continued, oblivious to the both of you’s disinterest.

But when she laid her hand on his shoulder, smiling flirtatiously, you felt something strangely territorial run over you. If knives could be magically produced by your vision this sorority sister’s hand would fall off.

“You don’t really look like Leo, though.” She said and you moved forward, wrapping your arm around Ethan’s waist. Her eyes widened and she immediately moved back, to her credit. You almost admired her rapid retreat. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I’m drunk. Are two you a couple?”

“Yeah—” Ethan said, at the same time as you said, “Couple of besties.”

Ethan turned his head to look at you and you avoided his stare, sure you would laugh if you saw what would most likely be his amused expression as well. The girl whistled under her breath and nodded, mumbling ‘okayyy’ under her breath as she moved away.

The second she was gone you laughed, pulling Ethan closer to you and glancing up at him. He was looking down at you with a quizzical expression on his face, his brows knit. You shook him a little, an awkward laugh leaving your mouth.

“Quit staring at me, E.” You teased. You tousled his curls and grabbed his hand, dragging him along with you. “Come on. I say we get super drunk, go to my place, and order takeout. I would massacre a small town for a Caesar salad and a Diet Coke—what?”

He’d tugged you to a stop, those brown eyes of his on your face.

“Do you—” he started, seeming hesitant, and you smiled.

“Do I what?” When he didn’t speak you took his face in your hands, ignoring the stunned expression he now wore. Lord, you must’ve been tipsier than you’d thought. “Spit it out E.”

He swallowed.

“Do you like me?”

Your eyes narrowed, thinking, before you let out a laugh. He tensed, mouth forming into a frown, but you only giggled, running your thumbs across his cheeks, not allowing him to pull back from your grip.

“Of course, E, what the fuck?” You tugged him forward and his breath hitched, but he let out a cry of protest, batting you away when you placed an extremely wet, extremely loud kiss to the side of his face.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He wiped at his cheek, glaring, but you could tell he was holding back a laugh. “That was awful.”

“I could try again.”

“I’m extremely seduced, thank you. Good god.” He wiped at his face a couple more times, cringing, before allowing you to yank him towards the drink tables.

-

An hour or so later the two of you sat bundled up in your bed, eyes glued to the screen as you watch Girl vs. Monster.

You had insisted on watching a classic horror movie and, when Ethan had asked if you wanted to see Stab 1 or Halloween or something, you’d opened up Disney Plus. Of course Ethan, being Ethan, only pretended to protest before he’d gotten into the film.

“These outfits are questionable.” He said, taking a long sip from your Diet Coke. He had his arm wrapped around you, you snuggled up into his side. “I mean, extremely.”

“This is peak Disney Channel fashion.” You argued, glancing up at him, he pressed his lips together in a smile that made him look so boyish, so adorable, that your stomach dropped. “They um—” You looked away, your face warming. “If you think this is bad you should’ve seen Shake It Up.”

“Wait, do you know that scene in Camp Rock where the girl’s playing the keyboard thingy and it’s awful and everyone pretends it’s great?”

“She’s really good.” You gasped, and Ethan’s laugh made you grin.

He tugged you further up onto to him and propped his chin on your head, his free arm looping over your waist so that he held you completely in his grasp. You felt his fingers twitch against your stomach, him getting adjusted and comfortable, and when he’d finally settled he began running his fingers lazily back and forth over your stomach.

You swallowed.

You weren’t sure why you felt like your skin was buzzing, your heartbeat quickening as you felt his chest rise and fall against your back.

“E?” You whispered, and heard the vibration of his hmmm? run through you. “When you uh,” you took in a slow breath when his arms tightened a fraction around you. “when you asked me if I liked you, what did you mean?”

His movements stilled and he sighed, shrugging. You turned in his grip to face him, your eyes searching his own.

“What did you mean?” You pressed, your cheeks flushed as you stared at your friend. He seemed to take in your expression with a hint of surprise, then with encouragement, as he reached out ran his fingers through your hair.

“I think you know what I meant.” He said, those doe eyes finding your own, and he’d barely opened his mouth to say something—you didn’t know what—before you lunged forward and kissed him.

He let out a noise of surprise that quickly turned into a sigh as you pressed your mouth against his own, clutching his shirt in your hands as his arms slid further around your back. You moved away a fraction to look at him as he pulled you to straddle his lap, and the smile he gave you was so gorgeous you screamed internally.

You felt like you needed to take a lap, to run around, to call Ethan and tell him what just— You wanted to tell Ethan about himself. Good god, this was what you got for kissing your friends.

“So I’m assuming you do like me?” He teased, biting nervously on his bottom lip, and you leaned in to kiss him again. This time it was slower, your mouth parting his own as you licked into him, and he groaned. “You have no idea,” he whispered, moving his hands to touch your face, “how long I’ve had a crush on you for.”

The butterflies you felt were insane. Especially when he asked, kissing you softly, “will you please be my girlfriend already?”

You laughed and nodded, slipping your fingers into his hair.

this shit got my kicking my FEET

[jar-of-something-else]

sleeping w/ the mercs [IT IS LIKE THAT]

these are so badddddd bro literally ignore this i just need practice and the mercs are my victims pinky promise i'll get better

yeah the title is the exact same as the tf2 headcanons from my main SO WHAT

if ur under 18 please don't interact 👍🏻

afab reader i’m sorry guys :( gender is totally neutral though

obviously this is under a cut

warnings/includes: MENTIONS OF SYRINGES/NEEDLES, SCALPELS, AND MEDICAL STUFF IN MEDIC'S SECTION!!!!!! AND KNIVES AND BLOOD IN SNIPER'S!!!! these are so bad, pyro is insane, medic is also insane, sniper is depraved, actually everybody's depraved, i'm depraved and also so so sorry

mostly what they're into/how they behave, nothing super reader specific in these ones

Scout:

-he’s got enough experience but he isn’t as good as he says he is, he’s got the spirit though and that’s what matters

-really good with his fingers but he can't find the clit half the time so help him out a bit

-absolutely an ass man but isn’t into anal

-scout usually likes positions where he can easily see/touch your ass (doggy, reverse cowgirl, etc)

-definitely says cringe shit in the bedroom, 100% refers to himself as daddy (which is canon i think?? i remember him having a voice line where he does that, could be wrong tho)

-has tried (and failed) to call you kitten on the regular but reverted back to the usual (still cringy) nicknames he calls you after demo made fun of him

-he never shuts up so the dirty talk is CRAZYYYY

-calls you stuff like doll, baby, babe, and uses pretty girl/boy/baby and babygirl/boy/doll when he's close

-even though he’s a little clumsy with it, he really does like giving oral, just give him a little direction; BUT likes receiving oral even more, sorry abt ur knees babe 💔

-definitely into semi-public sex, he won’t do anything in front of people but you bet your ass he’s finding some alleyway or storage closet to get freaky in

-does get jealous pretty easy and even though he’s usually not too rough with you he is not above manhandling when he sees fit

-the dog tags stay on, do with that what you will

Soldier:

-good GAWD

-literally so mean but mean in a hot way so that makes it okay

-absolutely nickname crazy; most of them aren't very cute or sexy (i.e. cadet, maggot, etc) but cupcake always makes an appearance

-very much into verbal degradation because of course he is, is also very into manhandling and just kinda tossing you around but he doesn't wanna hurt you too bad

-rarely ever fucks on an actual bed, usually it's the nearest wall/table/chair/couch, any surface you could lay/sit on really

-no the helmet is not coming off but that adds to it

-the honey IS going on though, maybe not his full body but it will make an appearance (he’s def into foodplay)

-tiny bit of a size kink, i think soldier is one of the taller, bulkier mercs so there's a very good chance he's much bigger than you in one way or another

-would absolutely be interested in a threesome with demo let's get real here

-very attracted to body hair bc i say so

-likes positions where he's very obviously the one in control/with the power; very into restraint either with some device (handcuffs, rope, etc) or with his own hands

-VERY loud, so good luck with that lmao

Pyro:

-man,,,,

-obviously into temperature and wax play

-the mask and suit do not come off, but pyro has a plethora of toys to use on you instead 😊

-gets off on the idea that he's some faceless person you can't really understand that has complete control over you and your body

-does occasionally lift the mask up just above his nostrils to kiss you, though, scarred lips be damned

-does babble a lot, even though it's all muffled; the nicknames he uses are surprisingly cute, he'll call you stuff like sugarplum, marshmallow, firefly, sugar cube, and other sickly-sweet names

-doesn't like showing you his bare skin/body because of their burn scars, but pyro does enjoy grinding if you wanna help him out that bad

-derives most of his pleasure from making you feel good, though, so he isn't really looking for any type of physical release on his end

-pyro's are kinda short i just can't think of any more rn i apologize 💔

Demo:

-WHAT A MAN 😍😍😍

-#1 lover out of all the mercs get fucked spy

-i think his build is very similar to soldiers, maybe an inch or two taller, so he definitely has the same lowkey size kink

-is also open to a threesome with soldier

-absolutely a service dom but he teases so much

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!!!

-likes when you call him by his name more than any of the cheesy titles dudes usually want their significant other to call them but he is always referring to you by any nickname he can think of; the most popular ones are lamb, sweetheart, lass/lad, my girl/boy/baby and "poor, sweet thing"

-loves talking to you and making you talk back to him even when you're literally on a different planet; makes you tell him what you want him to do even though he knows exactly what you're gonna say

-also slightly into dumbification (not to the extent medic or engineer are, though, he just thinks it's hot)

-very much into face and thigh riding

-foreplay alone could last as long as an hour if he's feeling "mean" at that particular time

-THIGH MAN!!!!!! LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!

-makes you hold eye contact with him, sometimes the eyepatch comes off 🥴

-likes giving a whole lot more than receiving but he isn't about to turn down a blowjob if you offer

-waking you up with oral, it's his version of breakfast in bed

Heavy:

-and you thought demo was a service dom 🙄

-literally will do whatever you ask him to he does not care, as long as you feel good he's content

-very obvious size kink and it's very easy to exploit, but heavy doesn't take too kindly to teasing (he isn't about to stop you, though)

-speaks mostly in russian so unless you're fluent you can't really understand him but you get the gist of what he's saying by the tone in his voice

-outside of whatever russian bullshit he's spouting out, he calls you his "leetle bunny"

-tries to be gentle with you because of how big he is, but if he's provoked he can and will get wild

-as stated above, he can and will get wild, which includes his dirty talk; russian praise will turn into demeaning english muttered in your ear

-BREEDING KINK !!!!!!!!!!

-doesn't tease you on purpose, but he goes slow enough to where you think he's fucking with you (no pun intended)

-begging is never necessary but it is a guilty pleasure of his

-doesn't ask to receive oral often but watching you struggle with it does kinda turn him on even more

-face sitting extraordinaire, yes he does make the stupid eating sounds like in the game and yes he does it on purpose to try to make you laugh

-LET HEAVY FUCK NASTY GOD DAMN IT!!!

Engineer:

-WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAN 😍😍😍

-much stronger than you'd think he is and he does use that to his advantage

-slight temperature play when the gunslinger is involved, it's just a little colder than room temperature but it's a very stark contrast

-loves conflicting his speech with his actions; he'll sweet talk and praise you while he's railing you into next week

-speaking of, he'll call you anything but your name. honeybee, honey, darlin', sweet girl/boy/baby, baby girl/boy/doll, any nickname that sounds hot in a southern accent he's callin you

-he absolutely has a daddy kink but won't tell you unless you have one too and approach him first, chances are you're younger than he is and he doesn't wanna make you think he's a weirdo

-all in all, the dirty talk is INSANEEEEEEEE

-absolutely into dumbification, he knows he's smart and he gets off on the power imbalance when you're babbling about nothing and he's still perfectly present

-also slightly into dacryphilia? it's not attractive when you're crying from pain, sadness, frustration, etc but he likes making you feel so good you're overwhelmed and all you can do is cry for him

-might forget to take the helmet and goggles off, but if you want him to keep them on then by all means he will

-would absolutely abide by the cowboy hat rule (if you don't know what that is, basically if a cowboy puts his hat on your head y'all are fuckin' later on)

-very much into bigger people, the extra chub around the thighs, chest, cheek, and stomach areas are a weakness of his

MEDIC!

-the moment we've all been waiting for

-kinda like soldier in the fact that he's mean in a hot way, but it's less bully-mean and more absolutely deranged mean

-of course he's into degradation and medical play, definitely dacryphilia and dumbification (for similar reasons engineer is), another merc with a slight size kink cause medic is big as hell

-likes to get you on the operation table and trace a syringe or scalpel (or both if he's feeling patient [haha get it]) along your body purely for the fear it evokes from you

-wants to get you scared/vulnerable and that's how he starts his foreplay; totally into the whole predator/prey thing but not in the same way sniper is, medic is more into metaphorical or psychological hunting rather than the actual thing

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!

-teases, edges, and overstimulates you to the point of tears and gets this stupid smug look on his face while cooing at you

-calls you demeaning names, like pet, but he's got some cute ones he uses too; täubchen, maus, schatz, and liebling (dove, mouse, sweetheart, and darling) are very prevalent in and outside of the bedroom

-if you're okay with it, medic does like to use you as a bit of stress relief when everybody else is getting on his nerves

-is 100% down for a doctor/nurse or doctor/patient roleplay let's get real here

-also into semi-public sex, sometimes he'll leave the medbay door unlocked and slightly ajar purpose just to mess with you

-though he is very rough with you most of the time, he likes to save his more tender moments for when the two of you are in an actual bedroom and not his workspace

Sniper:

-wild. like genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself when he's horny he just goes fucking crazy.

-even though he gets crazy insane, he doesn’t really know what all to do and it frustrates him; he doesn't have much experience when it comes to sexual acts with another person involved so please give him some pointers

-absolutely into knife play come on

-if you have a period, he'd also be down for period sex he does not care about blood in the slightest

-isn't all that nickname-heavy like some of the other mercs here, but he does sprinkle them into his dirty talk. it's usually the same things he calls you outside of the bedroom, like 'roo, darl', and love

-into body worship, giving or receiving. he likes making you feel beautiful and he likes feeling good about himself too

-would definitely want you to suck him off while he does target practice and i know this is such a popular headcanon but come on guys

-another popular headcanon is sniper being into predator/prey dynamics which like,,,come on. it's literally perfect. you're telling me this nutcase dude wouldn't be into scaring the shit out of you by physically hunting you down. it's basically canon idc

-likes biting and leaving marks on your neck/shoulders in very visible areas because he's kind of a possessive guy ngl

-as much as he likes people seeing the aftermath of what he does to you, sniper is a very private person so he really wouldn't be all that into sneaky sex. the closest you'll get is his sniper nest while he does target practice on cease-fire days

Spy:

-despite being an asshole on the regular, he's a very attentive lover

-into body worship but only giving, he already knows he's fine and he wants to make sure you're never insecure about yourself

-bilingual babe 😍 speaks in french so much you can't really understand what he's talking about but he's more than happy to give you a translation

-also has a daddy kink let's get real here

-KNIFE PLAY!!!!!!!!!!

-heavily into power play as well, similar to pyro because he'll keep his clothes (including the mask and gloves) on while you're completely bare to him

-likes buying you lingerie

-likes getting and giving head the same amount, he has no real preference cause it's gonna end in sex every time anyway 🤷‍♀️

-french nicknames ONLY!!!! mon cher (my dear), ma chérie/mon chéri (my darling), amour/mon amour (love/my love), gentille fille/garçon/bébé (sweet girl/boy/baby), mon ange (my angel) [currently using my basic understanding of the french language for evil]

-semi-public and public sex spy does not give a fuck he has a cloaking device for a reason 🙄🙄

-if you don't already have one he will give you an accent kink

[chubstiger]

Biker!Geto x Chubby!Reader part 2

MNDI!!!!!! (Imma smack you)

The moment you left the cafe and separated ways with your friend, you got a text.

-Hey, it's Geto. The biker you've met. I was wondering if you're up to do something tonight?-

Your heart beating, feeling the flushed warmth inside you growing. 'He wants to do something tonight?' You thought in excitement.

^Yeah, I'm just by Kuma Cafe, if you want to meet up?^ You texted back, thrilled. After you sent the text, he immediately replied back.

-Great, I'll meet you in 5 minutes. :)-

You squeaked in delight and dug into your purse to find your mirror to doll up a bit. Shiny lips? Check. Blush? Check. Eyeliner? Check. A few moments went by, and you heard the roar of a motorcycle nearby. You turned towards the sound and saw Geto. God, the helmet made him so sexy. You drooled at the sight.

He stopped and parked near the curb in front of you. He took off his helmet and flipped his hair back gently in place. Your heart beat at the motion. "Hey." He greeted with a smirk.

"Hi." You breathed out, finally letting out that air you've been holding in.

"Before we head off somewhere, I like to know your name." He stated, teasing. You blushed and nodded.

"My name is Y/N. Nice to see you again, Geto!" His heart pounded from the smile you made for him.

"It's my pleasure, cutie." He replied heartedly. "Now, wanna hop on?" He patted the seat behind him, inviting you. You were a little bit nervous as you had never been on a motorcycle. You made a step closer to him as he held out his hand for you to hold onto as you got on. Just from the touch, both you and Geto felt a pleasurable tingle from it. You squeeze your thighs together from the feel as Geto salivating from thoughts of your hands elsewhere. He gripped your hand a bit tighter before letting go of it and gave you his helmet for protection. "There you go." He placed it on you, "Now, you look badass." He chuckled as you giggled along with him. "Let's cruise around." Geto turned his bike on, and a deep rumbling sound soothed out. The vibrations of the bike didn't help your arousal as you held onto him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Off you two go, in the night streets of the city.

~~~~~~~

Hours went on by, as you two stopped by a park to walk around and talk. Turns out you have some things in common but also completely opposite from each other, and that's okay. You two were invested with one another, listening to stories and about life in general.

"No way that happened!" You laughed at the story Geto told you.

"I'm serious, Satoru and I got detention for remodeling our teacher's panda stuff toy. He kinda looks like a gorilla, now that I mention it..." He wondered as you chortle.

"What a bad boy you are, huh?" You teased as he scrunched his nose and then guffaw.

"Ya, just breaking all the rules." He grinned down at you. Your breath hitched from the expression. Then your phone rang. You jumped a bit and apologized to Geto and then answered it.

"Hello? Uh, I'm not home yet. - Just out walking in the park. Don't worry, I'm okay!" You assured your friend who's on the phone, hoping that you were okay. "Okay, bye, talk to you later!" You hung up and looked up at Geto. "Sorry about that, I guess it would be time to go home." You checked the time on your phone.

"I could bring you home if you want? It's dark, I'd rather have you safe and sound." He added, and you agreed easily. Walking back to the bike, you both drove off to the streets.

~~~~~

You two arrived at your location. Hopping off the motorcycle, you took off the helmet and gave it back to Geto, smiling. "Thank you, I had a wonderful time." You spoke softly, feeling shy and sad to be home so soon.

"You're welcome, angel." He replied, secretly not wanting you to go. You stared at hum for a little bit before turning to walk towards your place. You felt a tug on your arm and was turned around, and Geto swooped in for a kiss. Your eyes widen for the sudden attack, but close it to enjoy his warm lips upon yours. The kiss quickly became desperate. You snuggled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer down to you, wanting more. He groaned, licking the bottom of your lip. As he got access, tongues tangled with each other, tasting, hot, and wet. He loved the flavour of your gloss stick as he gently bit the lips. You moaned, feeling the pressure of your warm arousal beginning to build up between your thighs.

Geto held you close, by the waist and pelvic against pelvic. Growing hard from the kiss. You felt how he wanted you, feeling confident, you grind yourself onto him. "Fuck." He growled lowly as he stopped, to place his forhead on yours looking at you straight in the eyes. "Keep doing that, I won't be able to let you go."

You shivered at the thought, "Then don't." You muttered, hoping he’ll get the message and kissed him again.

~~~~~~

Shutting your apartment door urgently and slamming shut, you eagerly dropped your things while kissing Geto, never stopping. He took off his leather jacket skillfully. The remaining was his tight black tank top, displaying the muscles so profoundly. You felt him, sliding your hands up and down front, feeling the defined abs and chest. Geto shivered from your touch, wanting more. He bravely did the same but slid his hands underneath your dress, guiding them slowly up your thick thighs, exposing your panties. He grabbed your soft behind, squeezing, causing you to moan into the kiss. He slithered his hand towards your cunt, rubbing his fingers on top of the clothed pussy near the clitoris. The pressure from the pleasure was released as you gasped from it, stopping the kiss. "Oh, yes!"

Geto smirked, "You like that, Angel?" He rubbed in circular motions on the clit and then up and down, pressing the clothed hole feeling the wet spot forming bigger. "Fuck, you're so wet for me..." You whimpered at the touch, causing you to move closer to his hand for more friction. He chuckled, "Hold on, we have all night, pretty girl." He picked you up like it was nothing and asked where your room was. You told him where, and he light kicked the door and plopped you onto the bed. You were surprised by how he could lift you so easily. Eyeing him, he took off his tank top, fully revealing the top of his body, causing you to drool at the sight.

*Holy, shit.* You thought, feeling lucky. He crawled slowly on top of you and sensually gave you deep, short kisses. He unbuckled his belt and then the button and unzipped of his jeans, releasing the tightness of his hard cock. He sighed in relief and then focused on you and your sundress. He slowly slid down the straps down your arms and then slowly slid down the top, covering your breast. He salivated, seeing the soft mounds and moved his large hands to fondle them. You lament from the touch as he tweaked the nips and then went in to suck them. You were so sensitive. It felt so good, causing you to whimper. As one hand was squeezing one breast and the other slid down to your clothed cunt, rubbing as he still sucked onto you. He pushed the panties aside and slowly entered two fingers inside. The hot and wet pussy made it easy to sink into. "Oh fuck...!" You whined. "More, please!" He smirked as he moved his fingers faster. His thumb pressed onto your cilt for more pleasure. Geto felt like it wasn't enough to get his cute little angel to cum, so he slithered down to your cunt and licked it. He devoured you, tongue inside, fingers curled up and down. The sound of your voice was music to his ears. "I-I'm gonna-- I'm gonna c-cum!"

"Cum for me, baby girl." He moaned deeply at the taste hoping for more. You then came and gushed out onto his face and mouth. "Fuck... my little squirter..." He groaned, lapping you up. You never felt so aroused by a man before and suddenly grabbed his face and pulled him for a wanton kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. He quickly pulled down your panties to get it out of the way as he dropped his pants and boxers. You felt a cold breeze and then eyed down his cock. It was bigger than you imagined and wondered if it would fit. Geto saw the concerned look on your face and smirked, "Don't worry, it'll fit, cutie." You gulped and nodded. "Do you have a rubber?"

"No, but I am on birth control." You spoke feeling excited, and apparently, so was he. To get to feel the raw warmth of your cunt makes him want to cum right away.

"Fuck, you're perfect..." He whispered, as he rubbed his cock up and down your wet slit. Coating it like lube. "Are you ready?" He asked.

"Yea, I'm good." You breathed out, anticipating the hard length to be inside. Slowly, he slid in, and the pressure you felt was intense. You never had someone so big before. You winced a bit but managed to take him whole.

"That's my good girl... taking me so well." He muttered. He settled a bit before he started to move. The pressure started to feel so good and felt so right a few moments into it. You wrapped your arms around him as he pushed in and out of you. He cursed, feeling you tighter

"More! Faster!" You whined loudly while bucking your hips closer to him, chasing that high.

"Hng! Fuck, that's it, move with me." He appraised as he advanced faster. His tip bumped the cervix so fucking well, you never felt this much pleasure before. You wanted more.

"Can I be on top? Please?" You whimpered. Groaning from the thought, he stopped and flipped the two of you as he was at the bottom and you on top without taking his cock out of you.

"Ride me like the slut you are, baby girl." He slapped lightly on the ass causing you to groan from the impact and started to ride him. The amount of ecstasy he felt was overwhelming. The danger of you being on top was relentless. "Shit- ugh, fuck! You feel so good- fuck me more, cutie." The look on your face riled him up more, as he held his hip up. Breast bouncing up and down so deliciously. The jaw slacking, and teary eyes from getting ready to cum. "You feel that? You getting so tight and wet? Fuck, I can be inside you all day and night long." He uttered as he moved his hips with you.

"G-Geto- I c-can't- need to cum soon!" You whimpered getting close to your high.

"Come on, you can do it. That's it!" He held your hips down as you grinded into him. You started to babble incoherently, feeling the release coming. The constraint of the pleasure built up as both of you moved faster. "S-shit!"

"Hng! Geto!" You panted, feeling almost there. "I'm close...!"

"Cum on my cock, angel. Let me feel that hole squeezing me so tight." He ushered you. Helping you out with moving, he snapped his hips up with a final thrust and caused you to burst. The mess you made and the tight canal milked him as he came right after filling you up. You slumped down onto him, laying your head on his chest, gasping for air.

His chest stuttered from the lack of air but managed to slow down and take breaths. His cock slid out as his cum dripped out of you. You managed to roll off him, but he held you close to him to his side. Holding you to his chest. You glanced up at him, and you saw him staring at you as well. You formed a smile and pecked his lips. He chuckled and did the same.

"I guess this is where I ask you to be my girl, right?" He mentioned in humor, and you laughed lightly.

"Yes. I accept."

Part 1 here!

[leclsrc]

reciprocate ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, pwp, very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.5k

You have trouble maintaining your vow of Max celibacy when you’re on vacation together. (part 1 here)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… sexual tension like tons, dirty talk, masturbating, descriptions of sex, kissing, SEXUAL TENSION.

hope you like it everyone! :) req’d and i was gonna make this a drabble, but it kinda grew. kind of gives way for a part 3, so lmk if u would wanna read thaaat...?

You’re bored more than several times over the dry, chilly stretch of winter break.

With not much to do, you’ve taken to traveling before you settle back into reporting on what different teams are doing to prepare for March. It’s all car prep, helmet design, new advancements, some drama on budget breaches. But that all comes in the condensed end of February, so now you’re wandering around, aimless.

The invite comes after Christmas and before New Year’s. It’s also last minute, and you would’ve normally rejected it, but Lissie had managed to convince you despite yourself, so you text Daniel a thumbs-up, greenlighting his proposition to jet off to Monaco.

“I’m starting to think I should’ve just said no,” you mutter, dumping a bundle of clothes into your suitcase. Across you, equally busy, Lissie scoffs. 

She looks up from where she’s busy folding something, then, “In what universe would anybody want to pass up on a free Monaco trip where we can spend the entire week drinking our body weight in cocktails and swimming it off?”

You laugh, nodding in semi-agreement. It’s not Monaco, you want to tell her. It’s because everybody’s going, even Max. “You’re right,” you say instead, making a show of being excited. 

It didn’t seem the slighest bit sane to be going on a non-work trip where Max was going to be around. Your first tryst, barely a month ago, before the grand prix in Abu Dhabi, had given way to three days straight of retiring to his room, foregoing afterparties, and then, after deciding to go to one, sneaking back off and fucking in his room after just an hour of dancing.

Max is just as insatiable as you are, and it scares you—because it took every ounce of resistance from you to sit him down and affirm the statement that the constant sex was a bad idea. Outside of his room, outside his bed, you two still maintained the same caustic relationship, but the sex became like clockwork, and you could tell it wasn’t the best idea.

“We need to stop the sex,” you’d said, setting it down firmly. “It’s—it’s getting in the way of work.” 

“It really isn’t. You still have no problem calling me out after races and then getting fucked less than an hour later,” he said.

“I’m serious, it is. And if not now, it will.”

He’d shrugged. “Fine.”

“It’ll be easy,” you’d said sharply. “For me, at least.”

It feels like cosmic karma, then, when you’re told by Lissie that Max’s room is beside yours.

—

Almost funnily, Max’s is the first face you see after you’ve settled in your hotel room. You see him first, and then notice he’s joined by Daniel and Lando, at the bar near the beach where everyone else in your little group is hanging out. You make eye contact that you tear away from instantly, willing yourself to ignore him.

Daniel notices you first when you show up to order yourself a drink. “Swam yet?”

“Nope,” you say. “Think I’ll join the girls and tan today.”

“Just glad you finally accepted the invite,” Daniel comments. “Lissie told me you almost bailed for some weird reason.”

Your eyes dart over to Max, who’s drinking whiskey. He’s already looking at you, gaze cutting. You clear your throat and look away. “I thought it wouldn’t be the best idea, but I’m about three drinks away from loving it here.”

The small talk continues, and you even get your drink, but eventually Daniel and Lando are too enticed by the sunset water, running off and yanking their shirts off on the way. You shuffle nervously on the barstool, just two seats apart from Max.

“You’re here the whole week?” He asks, not looking at you. 

“I am,” you say, leveling his tone of nonchalance.

He makes a noise of petty disapproval, leaning back. From where you sit, you get fleeting glimpses of how he looks, and it isn’t helping your vow of celibacy. He’s big, which, while you knew this, still sends a throb of arousal through you. The tight tee he wears does nothing to hide what’s underneath, and his arms give you the impression that he could just throw you onto a bed or slam you against a wall like it’s nothing.

(Two things you could personally attest to, but that’s besides the point.) You’ve only just begun to get used to not having sex with him, but you’re starting to think you should get on the next flight off, because the thoughts creeping into your head of his hands, his tongue—

A cry of your name grabs your attention, and you blink, turning your head. Farther up the beach, Lissie and Lily are waving their hands around, calling you. “Let’s swim!” Lissie orders. “Now!”

“Bit busy there, were you?” Max asks, smirking. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, downing the rest of your cocktail and jogging over to your friends. Absently, you hear him chirp another teasing remark behind you—hope you drown. The abrasive remark lets the remainder of your scandalous thoughts filter out for the time being. You’re positive, though, that they won’t be gone for the whole two weeks.

You stop in front of Lissie to undo the clip in your hair when Lily asks nonchalantly: “Why’s Max staring at your ass?”

“Lil, oh m—” You swat her playfully. “Don’t just say things like that!”

“Sorry! Jesus. It was a serious inquiry. Guy’s eyes are glued. Don’t you hate each other?”

You resist the urge to turn around and maybe get in a dig of your own, but clear your throat and shrug. “You’re hallucinating. I’m sure he’ll have some random girl in his hotel room later tonight, anyway.”

You don’t miss the way Lily’s face is still etched with lack of conviction, but you tug her toward the beach anyway, splashing around and playing frisbee with the Daniel, Charles, and Lando. At some point, talk of clubbing arises through the six of you, and at Lando’s insistence, you all agree to meet up somewhere to get hammered later. A warm Monegasque welcome, Charles had dubbed it. 

A sluice of nerves slide across you when you hear Charles relay the idea to Max, and the latter reply with a fuck yes count me in. 

You learn a few short hours later that Monaco lives up to its predestined reputation as a nightlife beast, greeting you with vigor and sophistication. You’d been here before, but mostly for work—the immense drinking, dancing, and occasional drug is still a novel experience. Evidently, though, the drivers have little trouble settling into it, accepting and ordering shots and extravagant bottles like they’re nothing.

You’re off work, you figure, and you have no concrete responsibilites tied you as of the moment, so why not join in? 

Lissie is drunkenly slurring something into your ear, about how some guy is flirting with her but he’s a 6 at best and maybe I should just make out with him to make him feel better hey wait maybe he’s an 8 actually no 9, maybe 9.5 max—no he’s a 10 I’m fucking him bye, and Lily is pissed, likely being taken care of by Alex.

Charles had upheld a promise to remain sober, but said nothing of bringing a girl home, which he’d successfully pulled off just twenty minutes ago. Lando’s obviously busy spinning the tunes at the DJ booth behind you, howling with excitement every time he plays something he likes. Which, you realize, leaves you with Daniel.

You fix the hem of your tiny dress, throwing back another shot. Your tolerance doesn’t allow for alcohol to permeate fast; it goes slowly, and never results in too much of a headache, thank the Lord. You’re pleasantly buzzed, but you want more courage, more gravitas. A timely wish, considering you haven’t quite learned how much of a party monster Daniel is.

He leans in closer. “I bet you three shots of vodka you’re not kissing someone tonight.”

“I’ll take the opposing side,” you say, laughing. “Nobody here is doing it for me.”

“A gentleman’s agreement!” He hollers, waving a passing waiter over and ordering shots for people to share.

Although you’re in a roped off area of the club, there are still people walking around and crowding the area, including a girl who’s seated on Daniel’s lap. She whispers something mumbled and low into his ear, and you roll your eyes at his equally flirty response, pinching her thigh and kissing her neck. 

He turns back to you after, like it’s a casual conversation. “How can nobody ‘do it for you’ in a Monaco nightclub, man?”

There’s a question you can answer, but woefully won’t. You change the subject instead, cupping two shots. “How about you and I just do three shots each?”

“Make it four,” he says challengingly. “And take a hit.”

“Already did, Danny,” you refute. You’d smoked half a joint before drinking anything, not wanting to get too caught up in the crossfade. You’re half sure somebody in the group took molly, but your mouth is zipped all the same. “Come on, four shots.”

“Up, up,” he pauses, thinking. “Two shots of Patron vodka—and two of Clase Azul.”

Agreeing, you search for the liquor on the lit-up table, throwing the vodka back with relative ease and then standing up to do the last two. You stumble when you place the glasses back on the table, shaking hands with Daniel and moving about to shake off the alcoholic taste in your mouth.

You pass by Lando, and he flips you off from his place at the DJ booth, but eventually you meander your way to the bar instead, wedging yourself into an empty alcove that only houses a storage room door. It’s quieter, and here you can start to feel the alcohol in your system. You lean back against the wall, and just as you wished, a guy eventually approaches you.

He’s cute(ish), tall(ish), and charming(ish), and even in your hazy mind he registers as passable and definitely way too drunk and overconfident to be approaching somebody as hot as you. His arm wraps around you, toys with the flimsy strap of the minidress you’d worn today. His accent is clearly touristy and American when he asks, “What, bored tonight?”

“Little bit,” you say lowly, leaning back and letting your lips curl up into a smile. “Nothing is really exciting.”

He hums drunkenly. “I could be exciting. Show you something exciting.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say, playing into him. “Tell me more.”

“I could tell you lots of things in my hotel room.” He smiles. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“She’s had plenty, mate,” a voice unmistakably Dutch says, and pride wells up in you for having had your plan succeed so beautifully. You blink, reaching an arm out to gently push the guy out of the way—and meet eyes with the one behind him. Taller, broader, and evidently more sober than either of you, Max looks pissed (more than usual, at least.) “Piss off.”

“Christ, had I known she had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t’ve approached, man. Let’s all be calm.”

Max waves him off dismissively and approaches you, a glint of concern shadowing the irritance in his eyes. “This some kind of plan of yours?”

The alcohol has begun to rush through you. You’re hot, flushed all over, thinking of all the times you’d been in this position, purposely testing Max’s limits so he could test yours, albeit differently.  

“Dunno what you mean,” you say. Your gaze slips downward, to the big, rough hand wrapped around the glass of whiskey. You want them on you. Then they meet his again.

“Sure,” he says, unconvinced. “You’re having a lot of fun prancing around like you’ve no responsibilities.”

“Lighten up,” you insist boredly. “It’s called a vacation. It’s for letting loose.”

“Are you letting loose enough?” He asks, suggestive.

“Max.” You lean forward, and the movement lets him see more of your chest, or what your dress allows. He coughs. 

“No.” But despite himself, he’s leaning downward, too, his gaze stuck on your lips. “You told me yourself. It gets in the way of work.”

“This isn’t work,” you say, nerves hammering through you.

“Been looking after you all night, it might as well be.” His voice is cold and serious. He steps forward, effectively caging you against the wall with how bulky his frame is. “You need to be careful. I had to pry that asshole off of you.”

“What if…” You trail off, tilting your head back so you’re making searing, unbreaking eye contact. “That’s exactly what I wanted?”

You’re both frozen in place, staring up at him with the kind of coy you only get when you’re tipsy like this. Wide eyed, lip bitten, and dress riding up—this is exactly how Max likes you. Ready for him to wreck. One jerk of his knee in between your legs and you’re his. He considers other options: a light grip around your neck, or even just a hand on your waist would render you weak, too.

“You test me too much, Y/L/N.” You feel hazy from the way he says your name, in the way he always does—formal, professional, like you’re in the paddock interviewing him again. You can feel yourself growing wet. 

But you’d gotten yourself into this mess. You wore this dress, took those shots, let that guy flirt with you in hopes that Max would come over and give you his time of day. Deny as you might, you know deep down this is exactly what you were waiting for. You press a palm to his stomach, feeling the hard surface there, fisting it in his shirt. 

He grunts, lets his hand cover yours. “Schatz,” he says, guttural.

He lets your lips meet, but when you lean in for a proper kiss, he stands back up to his full height. One look in your eyes lets him realize you’re sufficiently sober, and he turns and walks away.

—

A volleyball hits your shoulder for the third time today.

Prior to that, it’d hit your forehead twice, putting an effective end to your beach volleyball winning streak. Beside you, Lando lets out a strangled cry of defeat.

“The volleyball legend is tapping out!” Daniel hoots from a nearby lawn chair, mimicking the racing commentators you’re all familiar with. 

“Piss off,” you say. “I’m off my game, too tired.”

You wave a dismissive hand to Lily and Alex and they flash thumbs up signs. You squeeze a bottle of water into your mouth, needing release from the thoughts plaguing your mind. The events of two nights ago weigh terribly heavy, annoyingly so, on your mind. 

Not Max himself, you argue. His voice. His touch. They’re so irresistible to you. The way he’d grunted out the pet name he reserved for sex, the way his hand was so much rougher, bigger than yours.

Absently, you wonder, if he hadn’t stopped it—what would’ve happened then? He must’ve been resisting his strongest demons to put an end to the flirting like that. Any other time, you think, it would’ve gone differently.

He’d crowd you against the wall, press hot, whiskey-flavored kisses to your neck. He’d drop his glass, uncaring if it shattered; he could pay for fifty of those and then some. You picture his big hands roughly feeling you up, pressing against your panties, asking if you wore them just for him. Mumbling about wanting to taste you, get on his knees and have your pussy right here, for his tongue only. You picture his fingers, nimble, yanking away the lace and pushing into your cunt, kissing your jaw, moving, moving, until you’re fully in an open-mouthed kiss, messy and dirty, just how he likes you. He’d say something mean. Do you enjoy being a slut, letting all these people watch me take care of you? You’d nod. It’s true, you do, humping his fingers and chasing release. You picture his dick, hard and thick, big like the rest of him, pressed against your bare thigh, and—

“Your gelato!” Lissie hollers crankily, waving a cone of coffee ice cream in front of you that’s begun to melt and stick to her fingers.

“Thinking of sum’in, mate?” Lando’s amused, sunglasses-clad face comes into view.

You flip him off and apologize to Lissie, attempting to enjoy your ice cream before you descend into a state of craziness. The beach day passes with additional moments of blank stares, though none to a worrying degree. Most of your friends chalk it up to you waking up late or spacing out thinking of work, thankfully. 

But, at least, you think. At least this just proves that you and Max can stick to your vow of celibacy. Right?

—

Max is never usually one to eavesdrop, but when he learned from Lily earlier in the week that your room was adjacent to his, he couldn’t help but become more conscious of it. Two days of silence, the occasional TV noise, and some stumbling provide nothing, so he’s since stopped paying attention. Between you two, you’re the one always out on the shore anyway, so there’s nothing much for him to listen to.

Tonight is different.

You don’t usually make noise—and he’s generally speaking here. You’re not a loud person. Even with the aid of a mic, your voice is composed, on the edge of quiet, during paddock reports. So why can he hear you so clearly now? The walls are a bit thin, sure, but something else contributes to it.

Something else, like maybe you’re doing all this on purpose.

The shuffling on the other side of the wall grows louder, then he hears your faint, breathy whimpers. He pauses, sitting a bit more upright on his bed, curiosity piqued, anticipates something else. Your whimpers grow louder, passing through the walls with relative ease. 

He could totally tune this out, maybe put on a movie, hell, leave the room for a late night walk or a drink somewhere.

But he’s rooted to his spot, listening intently, wanting to hear more of you. He hears it then, so breathy at first he almost doesn’t. Max.

Your moan. He blinks, feeling himself grow hard. Maybe he didn’t hear it right, but then he hears it again: Oh, Max. Please. Wanna, wanna— 

He palms at his dick through his sweats, swearing under his breath. You sound exactly like you do when you’re underneath him, two lithe hands wrapped around his wrist, begging for release, for his tongue, for his fingers. You’d been so sure, so high and mighty when you sat him down and demanded the sex stop, but here you are fucking yourself on your fingers, moaning his name.

Barely even ashamed, he tugs his dick out, already drooling with precum. He uses it to ease the glide of jerking off. Max, you say again, louder this time, higher. He remembers your conversation clearly, your solemn voice when you told him you couldn’t ever have sex again with the way it interfered with your jobs. The way you slid in a snide remark about how it’d be an easy challenge for you.

He can’t help but be amused, fucking his fist and listening to your moans, growing in volume as you near your climax. He wants to ask if your fingers are as good as his, as his tongue, his cock. He knows you’ll say yes but think the opposite. You’ve always grown so weak around him.

Gonna cum, he hears again. 

He pictures you writhing on your bed, eyes rolling back, fist half-bitten to try and silence yourself. Your thighs are probably shaking, brows knitted together, tongue lolling out—he jerks himself faster, panting, chest sweaty. It’s your last, loud moans that send him over the edge. 

I’m cumming, Maxie, fuck—! He swears under his breath, cum spurting out all over his fist. He catches his breath, pursing his lips, squeezing his eyes shut. Tries to purge himself of his thoughts of how you might look right now and retreats into his bathroom.

It doesn’t work.

—

Lando personal phone 30s ago

Lissie wants her own bacardi and could you get doritos too x

And a box of condoms pls mate xx

“One more Bacardi and a bag of Doritos,” you dictate boredly. Who knew a high profile, all expenses paid vacation in one of the richest countries in the world would still entail the mandatory grocery run? “…And condoms.”

Max turns from where he’d retrieved the rum, a brow raised in question. “Sorry?”

“Lando, not me,” you defend, holding two hands up. You two had been the unlucky pair who drew short straws and were thus stuck with a long list of niche items in an empty convenience store not far from your hotel. Outside, the sun’s already gone, leaving behind traces of orange in an otherwise dark sky. The group had decided to stay nearby and drink instead of going out tonight, since you’d all been at a club basically every other night anyway.

You review each of your baskets. “Seems like this is all,” you conclude, “except the condoms, which we’ll get at the counter.”

“Did Lando specify a… brand?” Max asks, pacing to the cashier. There are already some on display, with varying features and sizes. 

You recheck your phone. “Nope. Just get anything.”

“Alright, then.” Max picks up an XXL condom box and waves it around. “For Little Lando.”

Irritated, you roll your eyes. “Be reasonable, Max.”

“You said get anything!”

“You’re so annoying,” you fume. You catch sight of the cashier looking uncomfortable with the tension between you and Max and figure the situation needs to deescalate. “Okay. Fine. Whatever, just get something reasonable. Put that back.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘reasonable,’” he says teasingly, clearly trying to push your buttons.

“Just get a standard condom box.”

“What is a standard co—”

“Get the ones you normally use,” you say, realizing the words after they leave your mouth.

The cashier coughs.

Shrugging, Max grabs the familiar box off the shelf and tosses it, emptying both your baskets right after. His face is amused when he turns and you see him again, but you’re both wordless while the payment goes through and you exit together. The car ride back to the hotel is quiet, stuffy, and tense, your arms crossed over your chest and Max’s occupied with both of the plastic bags.

“I’m surprised you remember what condoms I use.” He says with a smug smile when you’re both in the elevator. He’s parked his car on the basement floor, so you need to get to the lobby. You watch the lights signify what floor you’re on, waiting desperately for the ground floor button to glow yellow.

Still annoyed, you humor him despite yourself. “Why’s that?”

It dings yellow right as he responds. “You’re always begging for me to cum inside you, anyway.” 

The doors open but neither of you move. Max watches you grow flustered and take a deep breath. “You’re a sicko,” you declare, walking out. He follows you with a laugh, knowing he’s right.

You meet the group outside the lobby, where they’re already piling onto a yacht, big enough for everyone. It’s ridiculously huge and expensive-looking, bobbing softly by the dark water. Charles emerges from the upper tier and waves to you and Max with a goofy grin.  

After you help spread and deposit the groceries on the table, you walk around, finally detaching yourself from Max’s side. Eventually drinks ebb around the group, shots and crude cocktails that are fed to you like water. Buzzed with warmth and courage, you move to the back of the boat where there’s a ladder to swim, grunting when you find Max already there.

You clench your cocktail. “What’re you doing?”

“Preparing to swim, what’s it look like?”

“Oh.” You pause. “I didn’t know you could swim.”

You down the rest of your drink, leaning against the side of the boat and watching as he sheds his shirt and jumps into the ocean. Some of the water splashes onto you, and it’s cold, sending goosebumps throughout your body. He surfaces, hair darkened from being wet and smile dopey. A few strands of hair stick up. 

“Wanna join?”

“Over my dead body,” you say, taking a seat and dripping your legs instead. 

“The water’s nice.”

“It’s frigid,” you counter. “You should be wearing a snowsuit, dumbass.”

“How mean,” he says, diving underneath and surfacing again. “You’re too chicken, is all.”

Emboldened, by the buzz of alcohol maybe, the music, or—most likely of all—Max’s teasing, you nod. “Chicken?”

You get up, legs dripping, and pull your shorts down, tugging your tiny tank top off right after. You’re left in your bathing suit, and watch as Max’s eyes lock onto your tits, spilling out of your bikini top. His gaze is slow on you, like it’s his first time seeing you like this.

You step onto the cool ladder to avoid jumping, your back turned to Max’s as you feel more and more of your body submerge into the freezing water. You turn, taking a seat on one of the rungs. Max swims toward you, wiping a hand over his face. 

“Not a chicken. But I’m not going any lower,” you say firmly, in the water from the waist down. “It’s too cold.” 

“I’m fine having you like this,” he says lowly, his voice thick with desire. He cages you in, two big hands on either side of the ladder. For leverage, your legs wrap around him. You’re so close together. After days, weeks, of resisting.

You release a shaky breath, staring at him, his shoulders, his hands.

“How’s your vacation been?” He asks, lips near your ear.

“Fine,” you say. “Fun.”

“Bring anyone to your room?” You shake your head; he persists. “So you’ve had no luck there, then?” 

“None at all,” you say blatantly.

“S’that why you’ve been…” A hand leaves the ladder to squeeze your thigh. “Moaning my name while fucking yourself?”

Your eyes widen, blinking, undeniably caught. You open your mouth to formulate a defense but you can’t. “What are you talking about?”

“Aw, don’t be shy, schatz. You were the one who kept insisting we swear off sex, but I think you’re starting to miss me.”

He presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms, rubbing softly. It’s enough to let you whimper. “Max—”

“You keep prancing around in tiny bikinis, skirts, tops. Is it on purpose, hmm? I can’t stop thinking about claiming you. On my bed, my balcony, over any surface.”

He quickens his fingers, and you whine. It feels so good, reminiscent of how wicked he is in bed. You picture it—being bent over the side of the boat, his hands big on your waist, cock sliding in and out of you.

“Feels s’good, Max,” you breathe.

“Does it?” He asks, egging you on. You nod, gripping his wrist—your hand’s still circled around it when he yanks it away.

“But remember what you told me? Before the break?”

“I—fuck,” you mutter, frustrated. “Please.”

“They were your words, not mine, schatz,” he says, easygoing as he dives back underwater, leaving you alone and sexually frustrated. You curse lowly. It’s going to be a long rest-of-the-week.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #42 - Soul Healer]

“When Jungkook is the best remedy against the worries of a shitty day.”

Genre: married life!AU, domestic Fluff

Warnings: OC had a shitty day, Kookie is the best hubby ever, he knows exactly what to do to cheer her up

Wordcount: 2.1k

a/n: this couple will always bring me comfort. i love them so much, you guys can't even imagine. enjoy besties ehehe🧡

You are having a shit day. Not a bad day or a terrible day, not even an awful day. No, a shit day. A completely and utterly shitty ass day. 

Everything which could have gotten wrong at the restaurant went wrong, you had to deal with ten entitled rude bricks today and you have been hungry throughout most of your shift because you had the brilliant idea to leave without breakfast today. Till this hour you ask yourself why the fuck you did that. 

Your lovely, amazing, beautiful husband Jungkook had a free day today. Which meant he stayed home, cleaning and gardening. He also did the laundry eventhough it was your turn this week. He loves laundry, so he didn’t see it as annoying. 

Jungkook is rolling up to the restaurant an hour before closing. Like he promised back then when he rescued you from this really scary man. He never breaks his promises. Only when sickness keeps him in bed and even then, there was this one time where he wanted to come pick you up with a forty degree fever. Truly, he is the best and most stubborn husband ever.

He drove you to work today, wishing you a good day which sadly didn’t happen. You had a shit day. 

Jungkook parks his bike in front of the restaurant and gets off skilfully. You are by the entrance, watching him through the windows. He is wearing his black gear today, taking off his helmet smoothly. He shakes out his hair, combing his fingers through it afterwards. His bangs look flat because of the helmet, but you think he is still so incredibly cute. He looks up, meeting your eyes. 

His face lights up instantly, he lifts his arm to wave at you. You must admit that merely seeing him makes you feel a little better already.

You retort the wave with an honest smile, before returning to the task of closing up. Your guests left for the night, as did your workers, so you decide to lock up sooner than on other days. You don’t want to be at this stupid place any longer and because you are the owner you can decide when your shift is done. It’s done now. No more stupid ass work. 

You step outside, meeting Jungkook who has just this moment stopped running to you. He stops with a bounce.

“Hey baby”, he says, pulling you into a kiss with his arm around your waist. It is quite zestful, leaving you to stumble into him. You like when he is like that. It’s always very hot when he shows you just enough of his strength in a gentle manner. 

He steps back after the kiss, but keeps his hand on your lower back. 

“What are you doing? Are you already closing up? Fuck, did I miss the time?”

“No, you didn’t. I just didn’t wanna wait another hour. Just wanna be home. Did you cook?” 

Jungkook knows not to be offended by your snappish tone. Instead, he grows worried. 

“I did, yeah. What happened, darling? Did someone hurt you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you drive me home now?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook drives you home. You like the time you share on his bike. You love the feeling of the cool evening air on your skin, love the fact that you can hug him and you especially love the moments where he stops at a red light and instantly begins rubbing your arm or knee. It’s those small gestures which count. 

Once home and the bike gear is shrugged off for the day, you leave for the bathroom. 

“I have to shower. Is dinner ready or can I go?”

“No, you can go. I waited with the finishing touches. Take your time sweetie, yeah?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

You greet Bam on your way to the bathroom. Seeing your dog really cheers you up as well and you enjoy a few lovely minutes petting him. You love this dog so much. 

Soon however, Bam runs off to play with his pet giraffe (the same one which was once so big next to him) while you continue your way to the upstairs bathroom. 

Washing off your shitty day helps a little, changing into your favourite lounge dress definitely helps and leaving the bedroom to the smell of finished dinner most definitely does. 

Jungkook prepared it outside on your back porch with some lemon candles burning to fight off mosquitoes. 

He is still in the kitchen, finishing up dinner. Bam is in the living room. 

“That smells amazing”, you say, hugging him from behind.

He leans into you. He is wearing a simple grey t-shirt and black jeans with a belt accentuating his waist. He dressed up. It’s hot that he did. 

“Mhm yeah”, he says.

You sway your bodies gently, giving his waist a tight squeeze.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you with my behaviour before”, you say honestly.

“You didn’t, baby”, he assures you, “I get it. You had a stressful day.”

“Yeah”, you say and smush your cheek against his back, “and I’m so hungry too. Today’s a shit day, seriously.”

“Poor baby”, he says, rubbing your arm, “you can look forward to the food. It’s gonna be amazing.”

“Mhm, I know it will be. What did you cook?”

“Corn soup and spicy buckwheat noodles. I know the combo is kinda weird, but I thought I’d bring out the soup as a last minute remedy.”

“Remedy?”

“You’re upset and the soup’s your favourite. It’ll cheer you up.”

You inhale deeply and kiss his back. He knows you so well.

“Thank you”, you say.

“Mhm”, he pats your hand, “go sit down, I’m bringing the food.”

You don’t have to be told twice. Jungkook follows with the food, serving it to you while you look at him. You are so in love with this man. 

He sits down on the chair next to you so you can talk. 

“Dig in”, he tells you and turns to his bowl of soup. You stop him before he can, having his cheeks in a gentle hold between your fingers so you can pull him into a kiss. He hums in surprise, but soon chuckles and kisses you back with a smile on his lips. 

You don’t really deepen the kiss as this was meant as a thank you. You still stub his nose with your own however. That much is mandatory. 

“You’re the best person ever”, you whisper, caressing his cheeks, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“If it helps you, I’ll gladly do it. Actually, I’ll do it even if it doesn’t really help. Just want you to feel better. Did that make sense? Can something even make you feel better when it doesn’t help?”

You chuckle because of him. He is so endearing.

“It helps me. I already feel a lot better. I guess. Just-”, you release a loud sigh, sagging your shoulders as you send him a defeated pout. He takes your hand.

“What’s up? Tell me.”

“Can I really?”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for you. Just tell me what you need. A listener or advisor?”

You love him so much. He is asking the right questions. You love this man so much.

“Listener. Just need to rant.”

“I can do that. Tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell him every single thing which went wrong today and Jungkook reacts to all of it with comradery complaints and gasps. You tell him about all the rude assholes you had to deal with and Jungkook calls them names until you can’t help but giggle. You also bring up the stuff again which you already complained about, but which still bugs you and Jungkook reacts with just as much enthusiasm as the first time. 

And once you have finally finished your long rant, the corn soup is finished and you are halfway done with the noodles.

You haven’t said anything new for five minutes. Jungkook knows that it is safe to change the topic now. 

“How are the noodles, baby? Can you tell a difference?”

“I can, yeah. They taste nuttier. What did you do?”

“I added one more spoon of perilla oil. I think it’s really bringing it together. Don’t you think?”

“Definitely. I really like this recipe. You thought of something yummy.”

“Thank you. Although, I think that I can do even better next time. I’ll try a better ratio of seaweed and noodles. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Okay”, you say and pinch his cheek, “Mister Never Satisfied”, you say with a fond smile.

“Leave me alone”, he mumbles and pouts, “it’s a virgo thing, I can’t help it.” 

You chuckle, “ah yes, the stars are making you do it”, you tease.

“Hey”, he pouts harder. He even talks whinier, “I’m here for you in your troubles and suddenly I get bullied outta nowhere. That’s unfair.”

You laugh and lean in for a smooch to his cheek.

“I’m sorry. I was just teasing, I’m sorry if I genuinely upset you.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not mad”, he assures you and chuckles, “it’s just not funny.”

“Okay”, you say in a snicker and move back to continue eating. You slurp up the noodles, humming agreement, “those are so good, baby. I’m serious. The soup was amazing too.”

Jungkook wiggles his shoulders and looks at his noodles with a boyish grin. He eats them with his grin growing and his chest fluttering in happiness. It makes him really happy when you like the food he is making for you. He can still remember the days where he didn’t even know how to cook ramen and now he’s cooking your favourite food for you and you genuinely love it. He feels like such an accomplished person, and like a true husband, when he can cook for you.

You get up to clean once you finished dinner. It’s a rule. The person who didn’t cook, cleans the kitchen. It’s a fair agreement.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook gasps, following you with widened eyes.

You stop in the doorway to inside, studying his features. He looks almost offended right now.

“Cleaning up. Why do you look so offended?”

“Because the hell?” he says and gets up. He hurries to you and almost rips the dirty plates out of your hands, “you don’t gotta clean tonight, that’s my job. Go sit your ass down on the couch and watch something”, he says sternly.

You chuckle, “okay, I see how it is. Shouldn’t I at least help you carry the pots inside?”

“No”, he insists loudly and his brows furrowing, “just sit down and relax.”

“Fine”, you give up and spank his butt gently, “you’re so stubborn.”

You are around twenty minutes into your show when Jungkook joins you on the couch. He kept the shirt on, but took off his pants. It’s cute. 

“Did you take off your pants?”

“Yeah, they were uncomfy”, he says and plops down next to you, “I thought I’d dress up, but then you didn’t even tell me that I’m handsome”, he says and adds in a murmur, “is really mean that you didn’t.”

You chuckle, studying his face.

“What? I’m serious”, he says and pouts.

“Gosh baby”, you get out and close the distance between you and him to smooch his cheek. You are hugging him as you do, looking at him with fond eyes, “I’m sorry. Of course you were handsome. You still are”, you say, swaying him from side to side, “my handsome hubby.”

Jungkook smiles, “nice. You’re so pretty too”, he says, making you chuckle fondly.

“Thank you”, you say and peck his cheek one last time before you cuddle into him. You rest your head on his chest while he rubs his hand up and down your arm. You feel so safe in his embrace. He is like your very own cocoon of comfort you can return to after a long day. 

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, running your hand up and down his tummy.

“I love you, Kook”, you tell him, tilting your head up.

He meets your eyes and smiles softly, running the back of his hand down your cheek.

“I love you too, darling”, he says, leaning down to kiss the bridge of your nose. Your eyes fall closed, a smile curls your lips. After the kiss, he caresses your cheek once before returning to watching the show. And you settle against his chest to get lost in it with him. 

“This show’s so good”, you say.

“Yeah”, he agrees and laughs with you as something funny happens on screen.

You can have all the shitty days in the world, but at the end of them they don’t really matter because you have Jungkook to find comfort in.

[cypheroo]

Relationship headcannons for Laurence Zvhal and Garroth Ro'Meave! ~♡

⭐️ anon requested this! Thank them!

"May I pretty please ask for MCD!Laurance/garroth x reader headcanons?"

Word count : 739

Triggers : none?

AN : it's short buuuut! Here are some basic headcannons for these two boys!

Garroth Ro'Meave who is insanely protective of you, he always wants you in his sight. He doesn't like you going on lone missons and much prefers traveling with you.

Garroth Ro'Meave who is so In love with you, he can't help but stare at you as you sleep in your shared bed next to him. He can't believe he was really able to be in a relationship with you and he's just speechless.

Garroth Ro'Meave who is usually awake early in the mornings and comes home late at night because of him being a guard. He feels bad he can't be there when you wake up or when you lay down for sleep.

Garroth Ro'Meave who was originally didn't wanna take off his helmet due to his history, but his helmet was also useful for when his face would flush at the sight of you.

Garroth Ro'Meave whos a litteral heater it's snowing or cold out? Trust me cuddling up to garroth in bed on the few days he's home early IS actually heaven.

Garroth Ro'Meave who asked you out by accident one late night, it slipped his tongue when he was expressing worry for you.

"I just really want you to be safe, I love you too much for you to end up hurt"

Garroth Ro'Meave who was worried about the village knowing. He was worried about if word got out of village what could happen to you.

Garroth Ro'Meave whos hands are scarred and battered yet touch you with such care and warmth, he loves cupping your cheeks and just getting to gaze into your eyes.

Garroth Ro'Meave whos insanely touch starved and feels his heart skip a beat anytime your skin grazes his.

Garroth Ro'Meave who sometimes will break down and cry in your chest, he's overwhelmed with guilt and sometimes it just becomes more then he can control

Garroth Ro'Meave who sure will get into fights with you but will attempt just best at keeping a level head, he'll never snoop low and call you names, disagreements happen and he doesn't want it to end your relationship.

Garroth Ro'Meave who would face anything if it meant you were safe and sound at home.

Pet names garroth would call you include but aren't limited to : honey, sweetheart, love, and sometimes sunshine

Laurence Zvhal who originally flirts with you as a joke and uses it as a nice excuse to talk with you. He'd also would slowly tone down flirting with other people as soon as you came into his life.

Laurence Zvhal who'll leave his stuff around your place as an excuse to come back and "retrieve it" I swear there is a scarf he left on the kitchen table that has been at your place for months.

Laurence Zvhal who originally is terrified of his feelings for you, he doesn't wanna lose control around you and hurt you. He avoided you for the longest time after he realized his feelings for you.

Laurence Zvhal who'd feel horrible when you ask him what you did to cause him to ignore you. It was only after you properly confessed your feelings that he'd explain why.

Laurence Zvhal who to makes up for ignoring you with truely romantic evenings where he and you sit on the beach, having a picnic at sundown.

Laurence Zvhal who can get pretty jealous when someone else is getting too close, and instead of being verbal about it he'd opt to just wrap his arm around your side and kiss your cheek softly.

Laurence Zvhal who will rest his chin on your shoulder whenever you hug. He loves closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around you.

Laurence Zvhal who's hands are Slender and cold, he likes tracing shapes on your back when your asleep in his arms. Those nights he doesn't get much sleep because of how happy he is.

Laurence Zvhal who'll tell anyone who asks about your relationship, he looooves telling people he's dating you, he just can't help it to be honest!

Laurence Zvhal who hates letting you see when he's hurt, Anytime something happens to him he trys his best to hide it, but he always ends up knocking at your door after he's been patched up.

Laurence Zvhal who actually hates arguing with you, he prefers to have conversations and not arguments.

Petnames Laurence would call you include but are not limited to : darling, cutie, babe, and rarely boo

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[spidernuggets]

hey hey girly anon here🎀

I was thinking about some jason hcs about what if jaaon and reader were hiding from a vilain but they had to hide by like pulling into an alleyway and like making out lmfao

I think with civillian reader would be so cute bc he like saves her n stuff

Idk how to word this properly but i love what u do sm

i like the way u think anon

Jason Todd x Reader

Sooo Jason definitely gave you some sort of emergency contact button. It's quick and easy, but you left it at home in another jacket or something like that.

But you think "Oh well, nothing bad's happened before."

It's dark, and you wanna get home as soon as possible so you take the shortcut that Jason told you so. many. times. not to go through. But you go that way anyway.

You run into, idk, let's say Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane. Crane has a new liquid toxin he invented, and since you just so happened to run into him, he believes you'd be a great test subject.

As soon as Crane gets close to you, Red Hood swings in, tackling him to the ground. He tells you to run and that he'll be right behind you.

You hide yourself into a nearby alleyway.

A very narrow alleyway.

When Jason is running around, trying to find you, you call out to him. So, he finds you, runs to you, and squeezes in with you. There's barely extra room. Jason's frantic and asking if you're okay or if Crane hurt you, but you're so distracted with his chest all puffed out right at your face.

Jason takes his helmet off because he's just so worried for you that he needs to breathe. But you ruin that opportunity by pulling him in for a kiss. It was supposed to be a sweet kiss. A little "thanks" for him for saving you.

But the kiss lasts longer than intended, and like two seconds later, the two of you have your tongues down each other's throats. You feel Jason's grip tightening around your waist, and your fingers tug against the hairs at the back of his neck.

The two of you almost didn't hear the "Come out wherever you are," from Crane.

When the two of you finally broke the kiss, Jason sighed because the moment was cut short. He pulled out the pistols from his holsters and was about to step out of the alley to fight Crane, but you pulled him by the collar of his leather jacket, crashing your lips against his for another starved, wet kiss before telling him to kick Scarecrow's ass.

Obviously, Jason does beat Crane's ass. Scarecrow's unconscious on the road and GCPD.are on their way because Jason has better stuff to attend to. Like his girl patiently waiting for him to come back.

"Where were we," he grunts, his hands finding their way to your ass.

He lifts you up, pinning you against the brick wall, kissing you once more.

This goes on for a while until the glare of red and blue lights appear from around the corner.

"We can continue this at home?" You suggested. Jason was quick to nod, pulling you towards his bike, wasting no time to drive the two of you to your shared home.

This isn't the first time it's happened, btw.

You have a tendency to be out at night. Is it to see Jason in action because you can't resist how good he looks? Yeah, maybe. But it's usually only minor criminals around the parts that Jason patrols. Jonathan Crane showing up was a happy accident. Either way, Jason still looked so fine while fighting.

Unfortunately, the two of you have no shame. You just loved Jason too much to care about your surroundings. So when you are out and about, and Jason is on patrol with Dick or Bruce, he's always out to see if you're wandering the streets.

One time, he saw you getting mugged, but then you kicked the criminal where the sun don't shine.

"That's my girl," he'd say to himself. Then he'd come right in front of you, pulling you to a secluded area, pulling you into a heated kiss.

But you hear someone calling out for him, but the two of you decide to ignore it. But you hear someone clear their throat.

You two turn your head and see Dick awkwardly standing their and Bruce behind him, shaking his head in disapproval.

Jason just scoffs and kisses your forehead, telling Bruce and Dick that he'll be back on patrol after he brings you home <3

[mrs-saturday]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*Start Of Something New˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Twinkle Towne (An F1 X High School Musical AU!)

♥ my masterlist!

♥ pairing: george russell x fem!reader, platonic!rest of grid x reader

♥ synopsis: New years parties, chalets and karaoke... Is this the start of something new for up-and-coming driver George Russell and maths genius Y/N L/N?

♥ warnings: nada, no warnings here bbys

♥ a/n: tysm for all your amazing love, support and kindness on my work! all the likes and kind reblogs and convos I have with you all over asks mean so so much to me, and im glad people are enjoying my work! TT is a purely self indulgent fic, but I hope you'll grow to love her as much as I do! Enjoy the show!

You had always hated these FIA New Years parties, and this year was NO exception. Every year it was the same old chalet in the alps, with the same old music and the same old countdowns to the new year with a load of young drivers. You weren’t even a driver yourself, it just happened that your father, Sebastian Vettel, was like the it girl of driving, so you basically HAD to go to all these parties.

“Leibe, please, at least try and have some fun” your father begged you as he walked you down the hallway to the party for under 18’s. You huffed a little, and felt grateful you’d managed to smuggle a copy of your favourite book in that little baguette bag slung from your shoulder. “You never know, maybe you will meet someone at this party, I know Lew-” You cut your father off with a small laugh and smile “I’ll try Vati, but I’m not going to go about looking for one of your friend’s cute sons! I have to focus on school if I’m going to go to Princeton!”  You cracked a glowy smile at your father and he laughed back, smoothing your hair down with his hands, before giving you a stern look. “Y/N, hand the book over.” You pouted, about to attempt a denial, but when Seb raised his eyebrow, you relented and handed your copy of ‘My Brilliant Friend’ over to your dad, as he kissed your forehead and headed off to the party. 

Meanwhile, over at the karting track nearby, George was whizzing around in his coach Lewis’ old go-kart, with Lewis cheering him on from near where the pitwall usually was. “WHOO! GO RUSSELL! WHAT A LAP KIDDO!!” he claps as the younger boy pulled up to the finish line, detaching the steering wheel so he could jump out. As he ran and hi-fived his coach, a sharp cough filled the air. Valtteri, Lewis’ old teammate and the other man on this trip with them, was stood with his arms folded and a stern expression on his face. “Boys, it is New Years Eve, please can you stop training for one evening and go shower up?” He sighed, walking over to Lewis “Why are you all suited and booted, Bottas?” Lewis laughed, and Valterri gave the boys a little spin “The party, Lewis. George, there’s a kids party downstairs as well!” George scrunched his face up at the Finnish man, now with his blue helmet tucked under a lanky arm.”Young adult party” he corrected himself with a sigh, looking between both Lewis and George. “We didn’t fly all this way for you guys to race the whole time. We can do that at home.” Both the Mercedes boys hung their heads and nodded, walking off to their chalet to get cleaned up for parties they didn’t want to be at.

At the kids young adults party, cheesy pop music blared over the speakers as teens from all over the racing series played games, talked, laughed and ate. Esteban and Pierre were arguing over a foosball table, Yuki was eating every sandwich he could find, and Lando was DJing a load of karaoke over a headset and mic in his DJ merch. Kimi and Ollie, two Formula 2 drivers, had just finished up a duet of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ by Whitney Houston, as the crowd clapped. You ignored the roar of the music and laughed, sat on a couch, watching everything unfold in front of you, while pulling the blue cardigan your Vati had bought for you up over your shoulders, ready to make your escape. “Not bad for a couple of drivers, huh?” Lando hollered, messing with his lighting rig a little.

“Now, who’s gonna rock the house next next?” he asked, jumping up on a small box to scan the room better, as you struggled to think what to do, and he moved his light towards the doorway of the room. George quickly covered his face with his arm, yet felt himself dragged by another driver up to a small stage, and having a microphone thrust into his hands. You were dragged up too, a microphone flung at you, almost slipping out of your sweaty hands. How on earth could this happen to you!? Or this awfully attractive boy you’re now stood next toYou looked up at the taller man, both confused as each other, the sheen of  teenage awkwardness covering both of your foreheads.

“Y’know, you guys might thank me for this later” Lando winks, to the reception of an unimpressed you and George. He slinks back behind the DJ rig and sighs “Or not…” and starts the track. You and the boy stare at each other as the opening piano notes play. You were more so staring at those beautiful blue eyes, connecting the freckles across his nose like constellations, looking at his perfectly formed cupids bow, when all of a sudden-

“Living in my own world

Didn't understand

That anything can happen

When you take a chance”

Oh boy, he has the face and voice of an angel. You made the decision quick and pulled the microphone to your lips ready for your part. There went nothing…

“I never believed in What I couldn't see

I never opened my heart (Oh)

To all the possibilities”

George felt his heart skip beats, the sound of his pulse rushing through his ears and the blood into his face. Thump-thump, thump-thump. Not only did this random girl he’d been pulled into some sort of karaoke fanfiction with LOOK like a princess, but she had the most beautiful voice and the confidence to actually sing with him. He had never believed in love at first sight, but he thought, perhaps love at first note could be real.

“I know that something has changed

Never felt this way, and right here tonight

This could be the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you (oh)

And now looking in your eyes

I feel in my heart (feel in my heart)

The start of something new”

You loosed up a little, taking the claw clip out of your hair and letting it flow freely, framing your face and making George flush a baby pink in the cheeks.

Thump-thump, thump-thump

His pulse quickened as you moved closer, hips gently swaying to the sweet sound of your harmonies, and he tried to keep himself in check as the song progressed. 

“Now who'd have ever thought that

We'd both be here tonight

And the world looks so much brighter

With you by my side

I know that something has changed

Never felt this way

I know it for real”

You just glowed as you sung, sort of enjoying the anonymity of no one in the room seeming to recognise you, despite your father’s name. And George could tell you glowed, he spent all your solo parts scanning your frame, to find not a single flaw in his eyes. You were some sort of fairytale princess, singing him these sweet siren songs and making him forget the stress of the track, of Coach Hamilton’s emphasis on the upcoming races, and of his entire career as a racer. 

It was you. him, and the music.

“This could be the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you (oh)

And now looking in your eyes

I feel in my heart

The start of something new”

And unbeknownst to him, you felt the same. No more swirling equations in your head, no more maths tests or Princeton or college entrance papers. Just this mysterious young man with the floppy curtains, slender frame, and glassiest blue eyes. And his voice, dulcet and warm, like ginger and honey tea on a winter’s morning. You pondered Lando’s words in your head:

 “Y’know, you guys might thank me for this later”

And thought, maybe he was right. Maybe you would.

“I never knew that it could happen till it happened to me

I didn't know it before

But now it's easy to see

It's the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you

And now looking in your eyes I feel in my heart

That it's the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you

And now looking in your eyes I feel in my heart

The start of something new (The start of something new)

The start of something new”

The music faded out as you and George stood looking into each other's eyes, a cheer spreading across the room, accompanied by the sound of claps and hollers from the crowd of teens. He smiled, and ran his hand through his hair “George. And you?” You smile back, blinking softly and quietly responding “Y/N”

You both found yourself sat outside after a while, escaping the music an the dancing just before midnight, “You were AMAZING Y/N!” The Brit, as you had learned from the accent, enthused. “You gotta be a singer, surely?” You chuckle, and follow his lead, guided by his soft hands, to a balcony “Only church choir, and even then I almost fainted!” The Brit laughed, and blushed at the gentle grip of your hand, feeling the edge of your nail dig into his vein ever so slightly. “Well, you were amazing, Y/N” He chirps, standing with you, overlooking the snowy mountains to the tune of faded voices, and the low whirr of the ski lift in the distance.

As you both looked over the balcony, George turned and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, still talking as he did so “So, Y/N, I was wondering if I could get your numb-” He trailed off as he looked up, only to realise you had vanished while he was pulling his phone out. Not that you’d wanted to, of course. But you’d promised your father you’d be back in the cabin by midnight, so you’d slinked away while George was distracted, the thought of your new school year buzzing in your mind. Besides, it’s not like you’d see the handsome stranger again. 

Right?