#but it was in my head and not going anywhere
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jungwnies · 19 hours ago
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INVITING YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND TO YOUR FAMILY THANKSGIVING
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୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : genre : fluff ୨ৎ : tws : light kissing, nothing heavy ୨ৎ : word count : 1862
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this one is for all my US babies who are celebrating thanksgiving today!!
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ʚ・max verstappen
it was a week before thanksgiving and you got in your bed to see an already tired max laying down, as you get underneath the covers you lay against him and look at him, "baby."
he gives you a hum and look sat you, "yes?"
"i know you guys don't celebrate this holiday, but i really want you to come to the family dinner on thanksgiving, and i know you have practice on the 29th, so i could ask them to move the dinner a little early so you can come." you tell him, softly.
"you know i've never celebrated thanksgiving before?" he laughs before turning a bit to see your face, "if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. just don’t let me mess up your traditions, okay."
you laugh, "all it consists of is a turkey and some yams, but i mainly want you to come because my family will be there, and you know how much they love you."
“so, is this where you make me eat turkey until i can’t move? or are we going to do one of those cheesy gratitude speeches?” max teases, putting a smile on your face.
you shake your head, laughing softly. "maybe a little of both. but mostly, i just want you there with me."
max's teasing grin softens, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "then i’m there. but i’m warning you now, if your uncle challenges me to some weird american football game, i’m going all in."
"oh, he will," you reply with a smirk, snuggling closer to him. "but i think you’ll be just fine. my mom already says you’re part of the family."
he wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. "good. because i don’t plan on going anywhere."
with that, you drift off to sleep in his arms, excitement bubbling in your chest for the holiday—and for having max by your side.
ʚ・lewis hamilton
you stand by the kitchen counter, watching lewis chop vegetables with surprising focus. “babe,” you say softly, leaning against the counter.
he glances up with a warm smile. “what’s up, love?”
you hesitate, toying with the edge of your sweater. “i was thinking... thanksgiving is next week, and it’s really important to me. i’d love for you to come to dinner with my family.”
he sets the knife down, giving you his full attention. “thanksgiving, huh? i’ve never done one of those before. what’s it like?”
“it’s mostly just food," you begin, thinking off all the components of a thanksgiving dinner, "turkey, stuffing, pie... oh, and my family asking you too many questions,” you laugh nervously. “but it’d mean a lot if you came. i know you’re busy, though, so no pressure.”
lewis steps closer, resting his hands lightly on your waist. “if it’s important to you, i’ll make time. i’d love to be with your family and see what this whole thanksgiving thing is about.”
you smile, relief washing over you. “really? even if it means answering endless questions about racing?”
he laughs, pulling you into a hug. “as long as they have some good food, i think i’ll survive.”
you snuggle into his chest, grinning. “trust me, my grandma’s sweet potato pie will make it worth it.”
he kisses the top of your head. “then i’m sold. just promise you’ll stick by me if someone starts grilling me about my cars.”
“deal, but i can't stop my dad from scolding you for speeding in your mercedes” you say, your heart full as you imagine lewis sitting at the dinner table, effortlessly charming your family.
ʚ・carlos sainz
you find carlos sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone while lazily petting your dog, a sight that makes your heart squeeze. you sit down next to him, tucking your legs under you.
"carlos," you say softly, nudging him with your knee.
he looks up with a small smile, his brown eyes warm. "qué pasa, cariño?" (what’s up, love?)
"so... thanksgiving is next week," you start, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "and i was wondering if you’d come to dinner with my family."
he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a grin. "thanksgiving? the one with the turkey and... what do you call it? the cranberry... jelly?"
you laugh, shaking your head. "yeah, that one. but it’s not just about the food. it’s more like... being with family and saying what you’re thankful for. i know it’s not a spanish thing, but it’d mean a lot if you came."
he sets his phone down, fully turning to you. "sabes que soy terrible con estas cosas sentimentales, ¿verdad?" (you know i’m terrible at these sentimental things, right?) "i’ll probably say something dumb like ‘i’m thankful for ferrari.’"
"my dad would probably high-five you for that," you tease, leaning closer.
he chuckles, his hand sliding to your knee. "si tu padre está de acuerdo, ¿cómo puedo decir que no?" (if your dad’s on board, how can i say no?) "but only if you promise to save me from saying something embarrassing."
"deal," you say with a grin. "but you should know... my mom is going to love you. she’s been asking about you non-stop."
"ay dios," (oh god) he groans, leaning back dramatically. "what do i even say to impress an american family."
"just be yourself," you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. "trust me, you’ll charm her in five seconds flat."
he presses a kiss to the top of your head, a playful smile on his lips. "fine, but only if i bring some jamón ibérico, your family has to try real food."
you laugh, already picturing him at the table.
ʚ・charles leclerc
you find charles lounging on the couch, leo curled up at his feet. you sit beside him, nudging him gently.
"love," you say, a little shy.
he looks up with a smile. “quoi, mon amour?” (what, my love?)
you bite your lip, feeling nervous. "so... thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not a thing in monaco, but i was wondering... would you come to dinner with my family? they’d really love to have you."
charles tilts his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “thanksgiving? with the turkey and... pumpkin pie?” he laughs softly, his accent making the words sound so sweet.
you nod. "yeah, that’s the one. it’s all about family, and it’d mean a lot to me if you came."
he sets his phone down, his smile softening. “mon amour, if it’s important to you, i’ll be there. i wouldn't miss it.” his voice is warm, sincere.
you grin, leaning in a little closer. "you sure you’re ready for my family’s chaos?"
he laughs, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “i think i can survive turkey... and maybe even your mom’s pumpkin pie." he pauses, his smile turning a bit mischievous. “but don’t be surprised if i say something cheesy in front of your family, like... ‘i’m thankful for the beautiful woman beside me.’”
your heart skips, and you chuckle. "oh, charles, you're going to melt my mom’s heart."
he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "as long as i don’t have to speak perfect english, i’m good," he teases, making your heart swell.
you smile up at him. “you’ll charm them with that accent, i’m sure.”
“maybe i’ll speak more french just to make it worse for you,” he laughs, his hand gently squeezing yours.
you lean against him, feeling warm and happy. “they’re going to love you, charles.”
“as long as i get to be with you, mon amour,” he whispers, pulling you close.
ʚ・lando norris
you catch up with lando in the paddock, after a long day of practice. the energy is buzzing around you, and you decide to ask him something you've been thinking about all day.
"hey, babe," you say, trying to sound casual.
he glances at you with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’re about to ask me for a big favor.”
you take a breath, then ask, "so, thanksgiving’s next week, and i know it’s not really your thing... but would you maybe want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d mean a lot to me."
lando raises an eyebrow. “thanksgiving? where you eat a ton of food and pretend you’re thankful for it? sounds like a lot of work.” he laughs, teasing. “you sure you want me there?”
you laugh, shaking your head. “it’s more than just food. it’s about family. i’d really love for you to be there.”
he looks at you for a moment, then smirks. “well, as long as there’s no awkward speech about what i’m thankful for, i’m in.”
“no speeches, i promise," you say, nudging him. "just food and a bit of small talk, and family games"
"perfect," he says, grinning. “i’m really looking forward to explaining how fast i go, and how many awkward questions i’ll get.”
“they’ll love you,” you assure him.
“as long as i’m not talking about racing the whole time,” he says with a wink. “deal?”
you smile, relieved. “deal.”
"good," he replies. "just don’t expect me to wear anything fancy. i’m more of a jeans and hoodie kind of guy.”
"that's fine, i prefer seeing you in something casual anyways." you tell him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
ʚ・oscar piastri
you find oscar lounging on your couch, casually scrolling through his phone. you sit next to him, feeling a bit nervous but determined.
"hey, oscar," you say, breaking the silence.
he looks up with a grin. “what’s up, love? you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
you take a breath and ask, “so, thanksgiving’s coming up, and i know it’s not really your thing, but... would you want to come to my family’s dinner? it’d really mean a lot to me.”
oscar raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his face. “thanksgiving? so i get to eat a ridiculous amount of food, pretend i’m thankful for it, and survive your family’s questions? sounds like a good time.”
you chuckle. “yeah, that’s about the gist of it. but honestly, i really want you there. my family’s gonna love you.”
he leans back, pretending to think for a second. “alright, alright, i’m in. but only because you’re asking so sweetly. just don’t expect me to behave too much. and, for the record, i’ll definitely be expecting enough food to make up for all the small talk.”
you laugh. “no complaints about the food, i promise. but if you start making jokes about the turkey, i’ll disown you.”
“mate, making jokes about turkey is basically my job,” he grins. “but alright, i’ll be good. as long as i don’t have to wear a suit or anything fancy.”
“you’re safe,” you reassure him. “just dress nice enough to not scare anyone off.”
he leans in closer with a wink. “deal. let’s see if i can survive a night of turkey and awkward family banter without causing too much chaos.” he smirks. “should be fun.”
you smile, feeling a wave of warmth. “i’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
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© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
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azzifuddslover · 3 days ago
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off the court
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
themes: angst, pining, light jealousy
word count: 3.6k
tw: swearing, talks of alcohol use
a/n: very proud of myself for finishing this as quick as i did. ngl i was so giddy writing this chapter, it might be my favorite so far! please lemme know how y’all are liking it, enjoy! 🩷
CHAPTER FOUR
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paige wakes up in her bed, in the same clothes as the night before. her pounding headache is evident, and her memory is foggy. she recalls drinking far too much, but there’s still a gap in her mind regarding the last few hours. how did she end up in her dorm?
she came to the conclusion that nika or aubrey had brought her back home. i mean, they did witness her drinking more than she should on a thursday night, so it’s a solid assumption.
paige reaches for her phone; there’s three missed calls from nika, two from aubrey, and one message from coach auriemma. fuck. she’s late for practice.
the memory of azzi rejecting her floods her mind, which makes paige contempt staying in her bed for the remainder of practice.
as paige scrambles to get dressed and head out, she’s physically off balanced, still dizzy from all the alcohol she had consumed. she grabs an advil and quickly shallows out before throwing her basketball bag on and rushing out the door.
heads turn to look at paige as she strides through the gym door, already out of breath.
nika is the first to pull paige aside; “girl, where were you? are you good?” she questions, concerned.
paige fakes a smile, “i’m good nik. i just overslept.”
“you sure you’re okay? you were drinking a lot yesterday.”
“really, i’m okay.”
nika gives paige a reassuring squeeze on her shoulders, “alright. if you say so.”
paige begins to walk to the lockers rooms, purposefully avoiding coach, who calls her over anyway.
“where were you?” he asks, clearly furious at paige’s absence.
“i’m sorry coach, i overslept.”
“you should know better, paige,” he says firmly, “everyone, run 10 laps.”
loud groans come from each of the players. coach auriemma’s eyes widen in challenge, “don’t like that? make it 20.”
paige’s lips curl; she receives dirty looks from her teammates, annoyance bouncing off them. she desperately wants to run away, go anywhere but here, yet she sets her bag down and runs with her team.
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practice is the slowest it’s ever been for paige. and the pounding headache she continues to have doesn’t help one bit. she remains out of sync, constantly missing easy layups and wide open 3 pointers. all she wants is for this damn practice to end so she can sleep the rest of the day away.
she’s been intentionally avoiding azzi, not meeting her eyes, building distance between the two, not even passing her the ball, regardless if she was open or not.
but when azzi throws a soft glance at paige does she meet her eye contact. azzi wears a concerned, light expression on her face, with an ounce of sadness in her gaze.
paige shoots a glare at the younger girl as she remembers the events of yesterday. azzi and paige’s bodies flush together. their lips inches apart. azzi’s rejection. azzi running away from her.
paige is first the break eye contact, going back to shooting. or atleast, attempting to shoot.
once practice comes to an end, everyone is eager to leave. it’s been a long day, and they all needed rest.
as azzi was about to exit out the gym door, paige pulls her into the locker room, quickly and swiftly.
“jesus, paige-“
paige places her hand on azzi’s forearm, “look, azzi. about yesterday,” she begins.
azzi’s cheeks flush, “paige-“
“listen, i was drunk out of my mind. i didn’t realize what i was doing or who i was doing it with. i hope you’d know i would never do that sober.”
pain hits azzi like a brick. she knew paige would regret it in the morning.
although azzi had been the one to pull away, it didn’t mean she didn’t want to kiss paige- she did. she desperately did. she still does.
“i.. okay,” azzi whispers, eyes flicking to the floor.
paige pulls her hand away from azzi’s arm, while continuing to look at the brunette.
“alright then,” she nods, “we good here?”
azzi opens her mouth, then shuts it and nods as well.
paige flings her bag over her shoulder and casually moves for the door. azzi’s not far behind her, placing her bag on her own shoulders and leaving the locker room.
the two girls walk in opposite directions, not bothering to glance back. paige closes her eyes as regret strikes her hard. she had lied to azzi. she wanted to kiss her yesterday, still wants to, but what else could she do? azzi pulled away. she pulled away. she had to at least try to act like it was a mistake.
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later that evening, paige is in bed, with her phone in her hand. ever since practice earlier in the day, she had been completely worn out, still suffering from a terrible headache.
paige scrolls on tiktok for while, before switching over to her favorite app, instagram. she views her teammates stories and likes a few posts. she sees caroline posted a photo dump, and as she scrolls through the photos, observing each one, she notices azzi in the last photo.
it was a picture of her and caroline in one of their dorm rooms, arms around each other, and azzi’s lips on carol’s cheek, in a friendly manner. it doesn’t settle the blinding jealousy paige feels, though. her fingers tighten in her hands, causing marks on her palms.
god, azzi looks so good in that photo. her hair was loose at her shoulders; she had on a bright pink hoodie paired with black leggings. paige never wished more to be someone else in this given moment.
paige clicks on caroline’s photo, causing azzi’s instagram page to pop up. she quickly hits it to reveal lots of posts from throughout the years.
she scrolls through all her posts, way back to 2015, and she’s reminded of USA basketball days. when azzi dmed her about accidentally liking an old photo of hers. red covers her cheeks in embarrassment.
she views azzi’s most recent photo dump; it was a few pictures of her playing basketball and some with their teammates.
with a slip of a finger, paige likes the photo. again.
“god fucking dammit!” paige exclaims, shifting up in a sitting position while nerves stir in her stomach.
she shuts her phone off and tosses it on the bed. paige covers her face with both hands, shaking it head at her stupidity.
her phone buzzes against her bed; paige already knows what it’s going to be. and as expected, it’s an instagram dm.
i’m getting deja vu, it read. paige’s lips tilt up, somewhat pleased that azzi still remembers their interaction from years prior.
would u believe me if i say it was another glitch? paige texts.
anxiously waiting for azzi’s respond, paige fiddles with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.
i’d say these glitches are awfully convenient, aren’t they?
a soft giggle escapes the older girl’s lips, as she swiftly replies.
they most definitely are, she sends.
after a couple minutes, azzi finally replies: sooo watcha doing?
paige arches an eyebrow, surprised to find azzi continuing the conversation.
laying in bed, what about u? she types almost instantly.
yeah same, i’m so bored, azzi’s message read.
an idea arises in her mind: same. wanna maybe come over? dorka isn’t here rn.
minutes pass without a respond from azzi. was that too much? does azzi not want to hang out with her? does azzi still hate her?
and do what? azzi finally sent.
paige tilts her head- what would they do? she hadn’t thought that far ahead.
not really sure. we could watch a movie or something, whatever you want.
seconds later azzi responds. sounds good, i’ll be there in 5.
paige scurries off her bed, frantically trying to make her room look somewhat presentable for the younger girl. not that she wanted to make an impression, or anything.
she stuffs dirty clothes in her bed, throws away old water bottles and miscellaneous wrappers before lowering the lighting to appear slightly darker.
as she replaces her current hoodie for a cuter one, she hears a quiet knock at the door. her head whips in that direction while nerves erupt in her stomach.
she opens the door to reveal a smiling azzi. she has on a simple white sweatshirt, baggy black sweatpants, with a pair of nike slides.
“hey,” azzi says, looking into paige’s eyes.
“hi,” paige replies, holding eye contact, “come on in.”
paige moves to the side, allowing azzi to enter her dorm room, cautiously. azzi observes her room better than she previously had when they were first in here alone, taking in the posters, books, decorations. it was all so paige.
paige gently shuts the door before going to sit back on her bed.
“you played really well yesterday, you know,” paige compliments.
azzi’s smile grows, revealing her dimples that paige loves a little too much, “thank you. that means a lot.”
blush reaches paige’s face, “yeah, of course. but i’m sure you already knew that.”
azzi arches a brow, “what do you mean?”
“how coach compliments your game all the time. you’re the team’s princess, practically,” paige notes.
“well, i wouldn’t-“
“not that i can blame him, though. your skills are undeniable, az,” paige cuts her off, the tips of her lips lifting.
azzi brings a hand up to cover her wide grin at paige’s compliment and the use of her nickname.
“getting soft on me, bueckers?”
paige playfully rolls her eyes, “you wish.”
paige shifts over on the bed, making enough room for azzi to sit as well. “you can come sit, y’know.”
azzi is hesitant, but regardless, walks over to paige’s bed and sits alongside the older girl. their thighs brush against each other’s, sending butterflies to azzi’s stomach.
the two girls settle on a movie, the notebook, to watch for the evening.
“want something to drink?” paige offers.
“um, water is fine, thanks,” azzi answers.
paige simply nods and walks out the bedroom, out to the small kitchen her and dorka share. while she’s gone for a quick moment, azzi decides to get more comfortable, allowing herself to lay out in paige’s medium sized bed.
paige comes back to the room and brings herself to a halt. god. azzi laying on her bed was not one she’d imagine actually happening, but is damn grateful it is.
“thought i’d get more comfortable for the movie,” azzi says, like the answer is obvious.
“that makes sense,” paige replies, breathlessly. she sets down azzi’s requested water and her own on the bedside table, while she carefully crawls in bed next to azzi, laying out as well.
the two girls bodies’ are side by side, full on touching one another’s. and paige couldn’t be happier.
“y’know, you’re a really great player too, paige,” azzi whispers, a couple minutes into the romantic film.
“thank you,” paige begins, “i thought i’d never hear those words come out of your mouth.”
azzi snorts, “yeah, well, me either to be honest. i’ve always hated you.”
paige’s lips turn slightly downward, yet is unsurprised at azzi’s comment. she knew azzi had hated her, ever since USA basketball. she hated azzi, too. well, tried to hate her.
“i hated you, too,” paige lies right through her teeth.
azzi turns her body to face paige, “do you still hate me?”
paige scoffs, because how could she, or anyone for that matter, ever hate someone like azzi? paige shifts her body, facing the brunette’s; “i don’t know, my opinion on you changes everyday,” she teases.
azzi smiles- her brown eyes roam paige’s face, then drop to her pink lips. she knows better; paige literally said mere hours ago she would never kiss azzi sober.
“i’m kidding. i don’t. i could never hate you,” paige mutters, barely loud enough for azzi to hear.
just as azzi’s about to respond, exhaustion washes over her, causing her to drift to sleep. in paige’s dorm. in her bed.
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paige’s eyelids flutter open as the remnants of sleep faded. the warmth of her bed surrounds her as she was the first to wake. she glances at the body in front of her, taken aback at the sight of the curly headed brunette. her breathing is steady and peaceful, lips slightly ajar. paige lays motionless for a moment, listening to the gentle rhythm of her own heart, before carefully, slowly reaching around to grip her phone.
paige’s eyes widen as she views the current time- 3:01 am in the morning. they had been asleep for several hours at this point, right alongside of each other.
paige looks over at dorka’s empty bed and is surprised not to see her. she figures she’s staying at one of their teammates room.
paige sets her phone back on the bedside table, takes a swig of water, before returning to her laying position in front of azzi, who remains asleep. she slowly reaches her hand out to graze azzi’s cheek, then twirl a loose curl around her finger, careful not to wake the younger girl.
minutes later, with paige continuing to stare at azzi, her eyelids finally open. she stretches slightly, lets out a faint yawn, before making eye contact with the blonde.
“hi,” azzi whispers, still dazed from her long rest.
paige gently smirks, “hey.”
“we fell asleep?”
“guess so. i don’t think i watched past 10 minutes of the movie,” paige laughs.
“same,” azzi shares the laughter.
the two girls shift into a sitting position, not caring enough to move when they touch one another.
“pass me my water?” azzi asks.
paige nods, grabbing azzi’s water bottle, as well as her own.
“thanks,” azzi says once paige hands it to her. she downs the entire bottle as paige silently watches in admiration.
“thirsty?” paige teases.
“you have no idea,” azzi replies, out of breath, “can i have some of yours?”
paige’s eyebrows rise, kind of surprised at the question. “yeah, ‘course.”
she passes her water off the azzi, who gratefully takes it. she takes several sips.
“what time is it?” azzi questions the older girl.
“3 am,” paige replies.
azzi turns her head at paige in surprise, “are you joking? we slept for that long?”
“i know right,” paige says, equally as shocked.
“i should probably get going then,” azzi says, beginning to get off the bed.
paige turns her head to azzi, “what? you don’t have to. it’s the middle of the night, azzi.”
“you want me to stay?”
paige looks away, flustered, “um, i didn’t say that. i’m just saying you’re allowed to stay if you want to. dorka’s probably at one of the girls’ room, so we have enough space.”
“alright then,” azzi nods, “do you have a shirt i can borrow? i hate sleeping in sweatshirts.”
“didn’t seem to have a problem with it earlier,” paige notes, “but yeah, i do.”
the blonde rises off her bed, scrambles in her messy closet, blocking it with her body to avoid azzi seeing the clutter. she pulls out an old USA basketball t-shirt that she figures azzi would be fine with.
“this good?” paige questions.
glancing at the shirt, azzi’s lips turn up, “that’s great. thanks, paige.”
she throws the shirt to azzi, who also pushes herself off the bed, easily catching it. paige exits the room, going to get more waters for the two of them. azzi lifts off her sweatshirt, tosses it to the ground when paige quickly returns.
paige nearly drops the bottles of water at the sight of azzi’s bare back. her eyes widen, her breath hitches. she wasn’t wearing a bra this entire time?
azzi pulls on the t-shirt paige kindly let her borrow, before turning around, noticing paige staring at her with her jaw dropped.
“i- i’m sorry…” paige stammers, shaking her head at herself.
azzi’s heart is basically beating out of her goddamn chest. she smiles gently, “you’re fine.”
paige finally moves from her spot at the door and places the bottles down. she stares at azzi, wondering if they’d continue to share the bed or if one of them would move to dorka’s.
azzi stares back at the older girl, thinking the same think but not voicing it.
eventually, paige breaks the silence. “i can sleep on dorka’s bed.” she walks over to the empty, made bed, slightly disappointed azzi isn’t protesting against it.
panic soon sets in for azzi, “what? no, it’s your bed, paige. you should sleep it in.”
“really, it’s fine, i don’t mind,” she lowers herself on the bed.
“paige, cmon. i’m not making you sleep in a different bed,” azzi argues.
“okay then..” paige says, confusion setting in.
azzi plops back onto paige’s bed, moving over so there’s enough room for the older girl, “just come back over here.”
paige’s cheeks blush against her will, a smirk settling on her face. “if you insist.”
the two girls get comfortable on the bed, legs touching ever so slightly.
“night,” azzi whispers.
“night, az.”
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azzi, this time, is first to wake. paige is much, much closer to her than she had been when they first fell asleep. azzi suddenly feels an arm wrapped tightly around her waist that has her pulled practically flushed against paige’s body. paige’s hand is underneath azzi’s shirt, on her bare back. azzi allows herself to admire a sleeping paige for a quick moment.
she checks her phone- 8:30 in the morning. azzi carefully takes paige’s arm and places it gently on the bed, then crawls out of the warm bed, trying her best not to disturb the blonde.
with her phone in her hand, she glances back at paige, and exits the room.
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later that day, in the afternoon, the entire uconn women’s basketball team is scattered in paige and dorka’s room. there’s players on both beds, on the small couch, on the floor. azzi is planted against paige’s bed, while paige is seated on the couch.
the team had been chatting about a variety of things when kk comes up with an idea for the girls.
“guys, we should play spin the bottle!” kk announces, loudly.
“what are we, 10?” paige scoffs, rolling her eyes at the game idea.
“cmon, p, don’t be blame. plus, i’m so bored,” kk whines.
“i’m down,” nika agrees.
“same, why not,” jana says.
soon, each player agrees to a game of spin the bottle, even though paige is convinced it’s a stupid idea. they all sit in a circle, tight enough so they’re all touching, due to the size of the dorm. kk places a bottle in the middle of the circle and gives it a gentle spin.
it lands on aubrey and lou. nika lets out a soft chuckle, causing aubrey to laugh as well.
“pucker up, lou lou,” aubrey smiles before swiftly placing a kiss on lou’s lips, not lasting more than 2 seconds.
the bottle is once again spun, fast this time. it lands on nika and jana, who smirk and touch lips.
paige shifts in her seating, silently wondering if the bottle would ever land on her. she doubts it.
kk gives the bottle a good spin, making it travel faster than before. paige anxiously watches the bottle, fidgeting with her fingers as nerves take over her body.
the first spin lands on azzi. oh jesus. whoever this next spin lands on should consider themselves lucky, paige thinks. she then takes in account that azzi still is wearing her USA basketball shirt.
it’s azzi’s turn for nerves to overpower her. her heart quickens, palms begin to sweat in anticipation for whoever she’s about to kiss.
the next spin seems to last an eternity. paige swears it goes in slow motion. but eventually, it points directly at the blonde.
azzi’s eyes practically bulge out of socket. her jaw drops as she locks eyes with paige, who looks equally as surprised.
ignoring the o’s and ah’s she receives from her teammates, paige makes her way over to the curly headed brunette, careful not to show how nervous she is to kiss azzi.
the older girl settles comfortably in front of azzi. her gaze roams azzi’s flushed face, which causes paige to smirk knowingly.
there is a heavy silence, the air between them electric, both eager and tentative. slowly, paige places her hand on azzi’s hot cheek, and leans in. when their lips finally brush, it was gentle- hesitant at first- but the warmth between them quickly grew, the kiss only deepening as both hearts speed up. a soft, trembling sigh escapes azzi’s mouth while paige’s deepens the kiss even further. she slips her tongue into the younger girl’s mouth, swirling and testing the waters.
after what feels like forever but not nearly enough, paige pulls away, disconnecting their lips. she removes her hand off azzi’s waist- which uncontrollably moved there from her cheek- and crawls back to her original spot, besides dorka and jana.
she glances back at azzi, who’s lips are pluffy and a darker shade of pink, while her cheeks are a softer pink.
the room continued to buzz with energy, the laughter of her teammates echoing from the game, but all paige could hear is the steady of her own heart. her pulse quickens when azzi meets her gaze, heat and want in her lingering eyes. for a moment, the noise of their friends fade away, leaving only the weight of a shared silence between the two.
the blonde didn’t take her focus off azzi. she didn’t smile, didn’t do or say anything. just watched.
azzi clears her throat, trying to act as casual as possible, but her hands betray her, nervously fiddling in her lap. she quickly flicks her eyes to the ground, but not before noticing paige’s lips twitch softly, as she was fighting off a grin.
then, without a word, paige turns her attention back to the silly game her teammates were continuing to play, yet azzi couldn’t shake the warmth in her chest or the growing electricity still intensely present between them.
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sstargirln · 19 hours ago
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P POWER ft. rafe cameron + kook!reader
tw: smut MDNI
❞ ᝰ .ᐟ a/n: sorry for this filth are we suprised tho ugh . . . also obv play: P POWER BY GUNNA FT. DRAKE
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“so — so pretty for the camera, baby, fuck,” rafe groans, one hand gripping your hip possessively while the other angles the phone to capture your weeping cunt, the relentless jackhammering of his dick into you. "gonna make this pussy fuckin’ famous." 
. . . she wanna go viral, we fuckin' for hours
your hands scrabble against the slick glass of the shower, searching for a handle as the force of rafe’s thrusts drives you into the tiles. the flash of the camera blinds your eyes as you glance back with a shuddering gasp and a half-lidded blink. rafe grins wolfishly, eyes dark and pupils massive, a hallmark of the coke that was still smeared across his nostrils. 
. . . she wet in the shower, that pussy gettin' louder
the obscene squelch of flesh on flesh echoes in the steamy room, mixing with your filthy moans. 
“fuck,” voice ragged but lewd as you screech into the glass. your head lolls back against his arm, which is wrapping around your hair as he continues to pound into you. 
“look at you takin’ it so deep, baby.” he lets out a loud sniffle, scrunches his nose as he yanks your head back to capture your mouth in a sloppy kiss.  
. . . [we] sniffin' that flour, we geekin' for hours
“gonna flood this cunt, baby. pump you full of cum 'til it's dripping down these fat thighs." his words are punctuated by sharp thrusts, each one hitting deeper than the last as he lets go of your hair, slaps at your ass instead. “let me fuckin’ hear you, baby, c’mon.” your moans get louder at his command, breathless and deep. rafe's fingers twist cruelly on your clit, wringing desperate cries from your throat as he giggles at your expense, points the camera at your teary eyes. 
“shit,” you cry, “i’m – fuck, i needa – ‘m gonna –” 
“what, baby, hm?” rafe cooed, pinching at your clit again. “what are you gon’ do?” his pace quickens, something you didn’t know was even humanly possible, and your blubbery words sputter to a stop as you let out a languid moan. your knees buckle. “you’re not gon’ cum, are you?” he lets out another giggly scoff as your mouth moves, as you attempt to form a sentence. “you know you can’t do that yet, baby. not ‘til you use your words, yeah?” 
you nod quickly, more of a shudder than a coherent movement. try to say something, but rafe’s cock is making your head spin, and you feel that damn coil in your stomach unraveling faster and faster and faster and . . . “tell me what you need, baby.” 
your breath hitches, a sob catching in your throat as you claw at the slick tiles. your thighs quiver and your stomach muscles dance as you struggle to hold back your impending orgasm. 
"c'mon," he coaxes, tone mocking. "wanna – wan’ cum all over my fat cock, huh, baby? tell me – tell me, use your big girl words.” 
. . . i'm in her gut like the sit-up . . .  
                                               . . . we don't take breaks, she wan' fuck on the daily
❞ ᝰ .ᐟ
“don’t post that anywhere.” 
“c’mon, you’re a natural! hours of footage, baby.”
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¡! ❞ © sstargirln 2024
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misswynters · 2 days ago
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Spoiled Rotten
short drabble (not that short)
featuring. Mel medarda x fem! reader
requested by anon
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There was a beautiful morning sun glow that was casted across the Medarda estate, but instead of the usual talk of activity, the house was unusually quiet. Mel stood at the foot of the grand staircase, her work satchel in one hand and an ornate coat draped over the other. She glanced up toward the master bedroom, the faint sounds of your muffled groaning carrying down the hall. She sighed, a fond smile tugging at her lips.
She had planned to head to the Council meeting this morning as there was always a mountain of political chess waiting for her. However the moment you had sleepily grabbed onto her wrist earlier, mumbling something about cramps and feeling “so gross,” she’d made up her mind. Work could wait. You needed her help.
When she walked back into the bedroom, her heart clenched at the sight of you. You were still curled up beneath the silk sheets, looking pitifully small in your oversized sleep shirt. A hot water bottle rested against your stomach, and your face was scrunched in discomfort.
“My love,” she called softly, setting her things aside. Her honeyed voice wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you peeked out from under the covers.
“You’re still here?” Your voice was hoarse, heavy with sleep and discomfort.
“Of course I am,” Mel replied, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. She brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead, her cool fingers soothing against your warm skin. “I’m not going anywhere today.”
Your eyes widened, but a glimmer of guilt crept in. “But don’t you have to go to the meeting—”
Mel pressed a finger gently to your lips. “Shhh. It can wait. You’re far more important than whatever petty squabble the Council is embroiled in this time.”
A wave of emotion hit you, and you reached for her, wrapping your arms around her waist and burying your face in her side. “I’m sorry for being so clingy when I feel like this,” you mumbled, voice muffled by her satin robe.
Mel chuckled, the sound low and affectionate as she stroked your back. “There’s nothing to apologize for. If anything, I love how much you rely on me. It’s…endearing.”
You looked up at her, your eyes glassy. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” She cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “Now, let me take care of you, hm? No more arguing.” The morning passed in a haze of quiet indulgence. Mel, ever composed and meticulous, became your personal nurse. She brought you a tray of breakfast in bed, complete with tea, fresh fruit, and warm pastries from your favorite bakery that was nearby. When you whimpered that the cramps were still too much, she helped you reposition the hot water bottle and massaged your lower back with gentle, practiced hands.
As the afternoon sun climbed higher, Mel decided it was time for something more soothing. “Come, my love,” she said, holding out her hand. “Let’s get you into a warm bath.”
You blinked up at her, still sluggish from the morning but grateful. “You’d do that for me?”
Mel arched a brow, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “You’re acting as if I don’t spoil you at every opportunity.”
That earned her a weak laugh, and you allowed her to guide you into the bathroom. The tub was already filling with steaming water, and Mel had added a few drops of lavender oil, the soothing scent filling the air. She helped you undress, her movements slow and careful, treating you like the most precious thing in the world. Once you were settled in the bath, she knelt beside the tub, her sleeves rolled up as she gently washed your shoulders and back. Her touch was soft, almost as if she were savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.
“You’re too nice,” you murmured, leaning your head back against the edge of the tub.
“Nonsense,” Mel replied, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “You deserve nothing less.”
By the time evening rolled around, you were back in bed, wrapped in fresh blankets and wearing one of Mel’s silk robes. She had tucked herself in beside you, her arms securely around your waist as she spooned you. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the warmth you shared.
“You’re really staying all day, huh?” you asked, turning slightly to glance at her.
“Is that so surprising?” Mel’s tone was amused, but her golden eyes were warm as they met yours. “I told you, you’re my priority today.”
You felt a small flush creep up your cheeks, grateful but still slightly guilty. “I’m just my period, acting so dramatic.”
Mel clicked her tongue and tightened her hold on you. “You’re in pain, exhausted, and emotional. That’s hardly dramatic.” Her lips brushed the back of your neck as she spoke. “Besides, I don’t need an excuse to spoil you.”
A soft, contented sigh escaped your lips. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
“Every single word,” she murmured, trailing her fingers up and down your arm in slow, soothing strokes. The room was dimly lit now, the soft amber glow from the bedside lamp casting long shadows on the walls. Your favorite music played faintly in the background, creating a cozy ambiance that melted away any lingering discomfort.
“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, a small lump forming in your throat.
Mel shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at you. Her expression was one of affectionate exasperation. “If I hear you say that one more time, I’ll be forced to give you a lecture about how absolutely wrong you are.”
A laugh bubbled out of you, breaking the emotional tension. “I’d love to hear that lecture.”
Mel smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe another time. For now, just accept that I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Your heart swelled at her words, and without thinking, you turned in her arms to face her fully. Reaching up, you cupped her face in your hands and kissed her softly. It was a gentle, lingering kiss, full of gratitude and love. The rest of the evening passed in a haze. You drifted in and out of sleep, nestled in Mel’s arms, while she occasionally whispered sweet nothings in your ear. When you stirred complaining about the pain, she would bring you water, insisting you keep hydrated.
As the night deepened, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, the outside world forgotten. It didn’t matter that you were an emotional wreck or that Mel had a mountain of work waiting for her. In that moment, all that mattered was the love you shared and the comfort you found in each other. Her, taking good care of you while you were on your period because she knew you would do the same for her. No questions asked.
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taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @themostlesbianever
banner. @anitalenia
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chimivx · 2 days ago
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“…i want you, bless my soul…”
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Four months.
You met him on your first day in your first class, your professor the agitated type, the kind that gave you piles of homework with every lesson. He sat beside you, slipping into his chair right before the syllabus slid onto the table in front of you.
Dark hair cut short in the back lived a little more free in the front, on the top, growing into a messier, curlier mop as the weeks drew by, on and on. Tall, broad, and most definitely strong as hell, he was gorgeous. There simply wasn’t any other word for it, he walked into class every week with his golden skin aglow no matter where the sun lived in the sky. You’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist in knots watching his wide eyes scan the room, standing there near the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans clasped to his waist with a leather belt.
What in the fucking Calvin Klein ad just walked in here?
Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, please don’t-
He wore Dior Sauvage, just enough of it to charm your eyes in his direction, the two of your glances meeting for only a few seconds, yet long enough to know that this was going to be a long semester.
After that first week, that first class, he showed up on time, sometimes even earlier than you, and sure enough he’d be in that seat and he’d offer you the tiniest smile while he pushed in his chair to let you pass behind him.
Did he own any clothes that fit?
It felt like every week he’d have on a new shirt that clung to him like seran wrap, every little chiseled sculpted by Michaelangelo notch in his body, his chest, completely and utterly visible. As if he didn’t know it, more than enough time in class he’d spend with his hands behind his head, his biceps tightening in his sleeves, bulging beneath the fabric that you waited to see rip.
Too often you’d have to tear your eyes away, too lost in wonder as to what kind of marvel sat beside you. Six foot something, perfectly built, not only did his appearance alone catch you off guard, but his ability to be so gentle. A smiley, sappy giant full of tooth rotting sweetness. Each raise of his hand, how he toyed with his pen between his firm fingers, the way he’d listen to other people speak — his eyebrows pulling up in the center, his eyes widening with wonder. He’d keep to his space, never once invading yours. Respectful, he knew to say hello, goodbye, would ask you quiet questions, like what page number you were on, and he’d give you thanks into oblivion.
It wasn’t until a month or so had passed that you realized it. One morning you stood in front of the mirror for too long, put a little too much effort into your makeup, into your hair. Spritzing a bottle of perfume to your wrist that you saved for special occasions, when the glass tapped back onto the shelf and you dabbed your wrists together, you gasped.
Damn.
Swapping the lacey sweater for something more casual, you know, for class, you pulled half of your hair up and back, letting some of it hang forward, praying to anyone who’d help that it didn’t look like you woke up before your alarm to get ready for a class you half cared about.
He noticed.
He sat down, walking in a few minutes after you, and his eyes lingered in your direction. Not that you could tell, nor were you paying attention, you were sitting backward in your chair with your nose in your phone. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good at being nonchalant like you’d been for nearly two months now.
Besides, it didn’t work. He didn’t say a word the entire class, only his hello and his goodbye.
It didn’t upset you. That’s what you told yourself, the lies you fed your brain to pretend to feel better. It didn’t upset you, he was a boy in a class you didn’t see anywhere else on campus. He probably had a girlfriend. Look at him, listen to him, he definitely has a girlfriend.
By the next class you were back to the usual, the snoozed my alarm twice before getting up in a rush, a hoodie and baggy jeans. Hair thrown up, makeup minimal, you accepted your fate.
You weren’t expecting him to be in the room first, you’ve narrowed down his time frame of entry, typically within ten minutes of the lecture starting depending on when you’d arrive. He was five minutes too early. Giving him the tightest smile, you shimmied behind his chair and mimicked his greeting, shoving yourself into your seat, not prepared for fifteen minutes of silence with him beside you.
Nose in phone, nose in phone.
It was all you could do to keep from gawking, for some reason he was fresher than normal. Black t-shirt, denim jacket on the back of his chair, silver jewelry hanging off of him. He wore a different cologne, one you couldn’t pick out, but god it was delicious you wanted to lick it straight off his neck. He definitely sprayed it to his wrists too, typical, you could lick it off of him there too, why not. Maybe even his chest. No- anything beneath that shirt that should be squeezing the air out of his lungs was lethal, how was every muscle visible? How could he walk around like that, he had to know that-
“Did you do the homework?”
Great.
You didn’t dress yourself up to keep the giddy high school level crush on the DL, but the way you jumped at his words and your cheeks warmed definitely helped. And, yes, you were staring.
“I, uh, yeah, I did.”
If he noticed anything, he didn’t show it.
“Mind if I see it to make sure I got it right? You’re better at this than I am.”
Juvenile, all of it, from the way he checked his answers to the way he slid your notebook back over to you with a shake of his head. Nothing else was shared, the class had begun and he focused on your irritating professor who assigned similar homework for the third week in a row.
Holding onto the way he spoke to you, the soft tone, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle graveliness he forced but then got rid of when he answered questions aloud, you truly felt seventeen years old all over again.
He asked you a question.
He talked to you.
Did he spend more time on how he looked for you?
No, it’s for his girlfriend. The one he definitely has.
The girlfriend that he-
“Whatever perfume you had on last week… I liked it.”
He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wait around for you to say anything. He scooped his books into his arms, and he walked out of the classroom, leaving you in absolute shambles. Nerves lived within you for a week, so many nights spent lying awake thinking about him, what he said to you, what you were going to do. If you wear the perfume again you’re setting yourself up for exposure, you may as well just tell him you have a crush on him to his face. But, then again, if you didn’t wear it, you’d lose his interest. He wouldn’t think you had an interest in him, and what if he told you that because he does have an interest in you?
Oh god.
What if he knows?
You wore the perfume. One spritz of it over your heart before you left your room, enough that he’d just be able to tell if he paid as much attention as he suddenly seemed to be.
Early again, beating you to a class you tried to get to even earlier today, you did not miss the small smile that pulled at his lips as you slipped behind his chair. It was the only thing shared all class, a smile somewhere in between lessons when he caught your eye. He had that same cologne on, the one from last week, the one that had you envisioning what it’d be like to have your tongue dragging all over his body, it was hard to not look at him.
Oh, he definitely knew.
And so it began.
For another month, perfume and cologne alike, worn every class, you started to share more than smiles. He’d lean your way for questions and answers, would ask about the homework, the assignments, sometimes when he didn’t even need it, asking for an answer he already had scribbled on his paper. Fighting the nerves, the way your belly filled with butterflies and did cartwheels within you, you started to share more than just classroom talk. While you worked you chatted, you learned where he was from, where he came from, where you came from and why you both were here.
He was funny.
Funny in the way he didn’t know he was funny, oftentimes asking you what he did to make you laugh like that. You’d cover your mouth and pray the giggles away, unable to tell him how adorable he really was.
He filled every shoe you profiled him with. Kind, sweet, funny, gentle giant.
Chiseled chest his cologne, the one you loved, radiated from.
But you didn’t figure that out until the following month.
Month four.
Four months was all it took, and he was yours.
Class whispers turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into homework dates, which turned into dinner dates.
By the end of the third you were wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, cologne on your tongue and lips pressed to his, whispering confessions of how long you liked each other but both felt too nervous to say anything. Reveling in pride, that you weren’t as obvious as you thought yourself to be, his sparkling grin overtook his face and he whispered two words that cradled your heart.
“I knew.”
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feeder86 · 14 hours ago
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Guy Again and Again
Hyde Park was incredible during the Fall. Guy couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else when the leaves started changing colour. He’d lived in London for three years now and had happily started to put down roots. Like any major city, he’d paid an absolute fortune for his house, but it had been necessary to set himself up and enjoy all that the city had to offer. There was always something happening, always new folks to meet and beautiful people to seduce. When he’d been offered a role back home for even more money, he’d declined it, using it as leverage instead to climb even higher up in his company and then side-step into yet another high paying position at another firm. His ambition was celebrated here and Guy earned himself the cringe-worthy reputation of being one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.
“Guy, won’t you come and meet my young lad?” called Sheridan, as Guy was strolling through to his large office.
Guy sighed and glanced quickly over at the others in the space, knowing that they were all feeling exactly the same way. Whilst this was an incredible company to work for, the nepotism involved in the majority shareholder inserting his twenty-two year old son into such a major position, straight out of university, had frustrated them all.
Following the company’s owner into his office, Guy plastered a happy enough smile onto his face and held out his hand to shake the young man’s hand. He’d seen pictures of Robert in the past, on his father’s yacht and throughout the tabloids as he dated London’s latest ‘It Girl’ setting all the fashion trends. They’d also briefly crossed paths the summer before last, when using Robert’s family’s private box at Wembley Stadium. Soccer was a huge game over here and Guy had found himself quite captivated by it.
“Nice to see you again,” Guy offered, shaking the handsome boy’s hand.
“Robert is very keen to get started!” his pompous father announced happily. “I’m sure he’s just what this company needs: a bit of fresh energy injected into it.”
Guy nodded, despite feeling that Robert was going to be nothing more than dead wood for them all to carry. “We’re all delighted to have you here!” he lied.
“My father says you’re the absolute best,” Robert chimed in. “I think he seriously believes you’re going to rule the world one day! I’m definitely looking forward to learning from you this week.” 
Guy knew he had been stitched up straight away. “Let me guess. You’re shadowing me this week?” he asked tentatively.
“That’s the plan!” Sheridan nodded, already grabbing his jacket to leave for his golf match at ten.
Guy looked outside into the corridor to see all the sly, grinning faces of his colleagues. They’d all known he was about to be saddled with the new boy, even before he did. Leading the way down the corridor, he noticed an additional computer had been set up at his enormous desk, with space for Robert to work alongside him; typical Sheridan making ridiculous calls yet again.
Robert was generally pretty intelligent and seemed to pick up on what Guy was saying with little effort on his part. Professionally, he appeared no different to the genuinely ambitious young interns they had on the floors below. But, in reality, he was so far removed from them, starting a job at the same level that had taken Guy ten years to even qualify for; not to mention all the incredible hard work and many, many promotions and job changes to get where he was. Indeed, Robert’s privilege was obvious by the way he talked about his travelling and the numerous powerful people he had known ever since he was small. Perhaps, in some ways, that did make him better suited to fly up the ranks early. Robert wasn’t daunted by the bigger clients and there was a sharpness to his mind that was sometimes quite surprising.
“How’s the babysitting going?” asked Angela slyly during the brief time Guy was on his own.
Guy smiled back. He wanted to joke and tell her off for not giving him the heads-up about being stuck with Robert this week. But, to be fair, everything was going fine. “No complaints from me!” he replied, reminding himself that complaining about something that couldn’t be changed was a fruitless exercise at work.
They both stopped talking, watching as handsome Robert emerged from the bathroom looking as sharp as ever: the beautiful hair, the eyes, the strong jawline. Behind him, the female staff couldn’t help but get a peek at those tight glutes and imagine being the lucky lady who would one day get to marry such a fine, well-bred specimen as him. “Are we ready?” he asked Guy, pleased to be heading out to meet clients again; knowing that this was where he could excel.
Getting around London could be a nightmare at times. Occasionally, it was genuinely faster to walk; exactly what ended up happening after roadworks had made it likely for them to be late otherwise. The client was a man called Mr Geoge Evans, owner of an events space that the company wanted to acquire. He was tall and broad, with an immense, solid and rounded gut pushing against the large shirt painted across his torso. It was the feature that most people noticed first about him and the one thing Robert couldn’t seem to stop staring at the moment they started their meeting.
Guy remembered feeling embarrassed and wanting to kick Robert hard for the way he was looking across at the gaping buttons on George’s shirt. After everything he had said about being okay with having this young upstart shadowing him that week, the boy had to ruin it almost instantly. Guy thought on his feet, finding a reason for Robert to need to leave the room and contact the office. Then Guy quickly rounded the whole thing up as fast as he could.
“What the fuck was that?” Guy grumbled as soon as they were walking to the tube station, given that their car had still not been able to reach them.
“What?” Robert asked, trying his best to keep up as Guy stormed on. He didn’t lack self-awareness; he knew exactly what he had done and why Guy had felt the need to remove him from the meeting. “I wasn’t expecting him to be so…”
“Fat?” Guy finished for him. “That’s so ridiculous! You know that right?”
“I was just a little surprised, that’s all. When we spoke on the phone…”
“This is business!” Guy began lecturing him. “You can’t fall to pieces just because some guy doesn’t fit into your perfect world-view of what everyone should look like. You need to get your head out of those glossy magazines you and your girlfriend seem to spend so much time in!”
“Look, I’m not like that!” Robert tried to counter his mentor. “That’s not why I got a bit flustered.”
“Whatever,” Guy sighed, racing down the steps to the tube station. Ultimately, he wouldn’t be able to hang onto this misstep. Robert’s family were the majority shareholders and, no doubt, the twenty-two year old would one day take the reins of the entire company.  “Look… there’s no harm done. Just… just don’t ever let that happen again, alright?”
Robert nodded, tapping his card to head down to the Central Line. “I promise!”
Guy didn’t mention the staring incident to anyone when he got back. Robert had been exemplary the rest of the time and it was clear that he had a talent to make it far; especially given his Oxford education. As the weeks progressed, he began to shine more and Guy learned to genuinely appreciate his insight into certain things. Sometimes British etiquette eluded Guy, especially with the types of folks who had been born into extreme wealth, like Robert had.
Likewise, Robert appeared to be impressed with Guy’s talents in return. “You’re pretty smooth when it comes to the ladies,” he laughed as they came out of one meeting.
“Plenty of experience!” Guy joked back.
“I’m guessing that’s why you work out so much?” the pretty boy asked. “It’s not as easy to sweet talk a female client when you have a giant gut spreading into your lap,” Robert chuckled; not realising that his joke would fall so flat.
Guy tried to bite his tongue. It had been the second time Robert had been casually sizeist. “Actually,” he shot back, “some of the most successful business leaders feel being larger gives them more presence to take charge of things.”
“That’s not what my father says,” Robert replied.
“Well, your dad doesn’t know everything,” Guy grumbled back, deciding to shut down the conversation before he started getting annoyed.
At the end of that first month, Robert had offered Guy to come along and watch the international football match in the private box at Wembley Stadium. He would be there with his girlfriend, of course, but Guy was also welcome to bring along a date as well. Martha had been Guy’s instinctive choice. She was loud, greedy and extremely overweight: the perfect choice to annoy someone so superficial and quick to judge others for their weight. Guy called her up, pleased with his plan, but was disappointed to hear that she was back home in Glasgow that weekend. He needed to find someone else - fast!
Ben had been the next choice for Guy. Somewhat smaller and more reserved, but always fun to be around. They had met at a club night for bears about two years earlier, when Guy had been intrigued by the little chub’s confidence to stoll about shirtless through the crowds. Happily, still single, Ben agreed to the date and Guy was delighted to find the man looking so much heavier by the time he went to pick him up. “Look at you!” he marvelled, getting out of his sports car to open the door for the large man waiting outside his apartment block. “Someone has been eating well!”
Ben blushed a little. He knew that for many chub-lovers, seeing someone they had slept with getting even bigger was bound to be a turn on, and he patted his large tummy proudly on the vast shelf that had developed. “I’m pleased that you approve,” he smiled, knowing that he was always in for a fun night whenever Guy asked him out.
The young couples’ faces had been a picture when Guy strolled in with such a large bear as Ben. It struck him that perhaps Robert hadn’t realised Guy’s bisexuality, making it a rather more educational experience for the boy that he had perhaps expected. Ben played his part well, naturally gorging himself and failing to notice his belly peeking out of the bottom of his shirt as he got up and down to cheer at the performance on the pitch. As such, Guy lavished him with attention, proudly driving him back home for his reward. He’d more than made his point, hopefully putting an end to the way Robert would try to casually fat-shame others around him.
Back at work, Robert’s new office had been decked out just as he had requested, shunting Angela down to the floor below. Despite the slow start last month, even Guy winced at how much the new recruit was taking on.
“Wendy has come to me asking to negotiate her pay,” Robert explained, walking into Guy’s office and closing the door. “I’ve been told pay reviews only happen in April?”
“That’s bullshit,” Guy replied, trying to get on with his own analysis work. “That’s just a standard line that is thrown out to try and delay these types of things.”
“Well, either way,” Robert continued, sitting himself down in front of Guy’s desk. “Paying her more is going to dent the progress towards the quarterly profits.”
“Then what does your gut tell you to do?” Guy asked, determined not to spoon feed Robert out of these awkward situations.
Robert paused for a second. “I think we need to give it to her.”
Guy looked up and smiled. It was the call he had never expected Robert to make. “Exactly right,” he nodded. “Wendy is an asset. I know Wendy. She deserves it. And, if you didn’t give it to her, she’d be straight off to another company. Finding a replacement for someone with her responsibilities is time-consuming and costly.”
“I knew you’d view it the same way as me,” Robert smiled. “You always see the bigger picture. Sometimes I feel like my father can’t.”
Guy nodded gently, not wanting to commit to badmouthing the major shareholder in front of his son, despite all the many things he could have said.
“You see people for who they are. And you have the sort of relationships around here that most bosses would kill for. They all respect you and want to work hard because you inspire them.”
Guy almost felt embarrassed at the open compliments and he wriggled in his seat. “Thanks,” he shot back quickly. But there was something in Robert’s eyes; a look, or a feeling. Was the boy developing a little crush on him? All the signs were there and Guy had been in this situation many, many times in the past. He watched Robert walking away, unable to stop himself from checking out the handsome glutes and allowing his mind to imagine what it might be like to fuck the guy. He wasn’t above Robert in seniority around here; there was no major conflict to overcome; especially since he only saw himself staying for another year at the very most. But could he really go there?
It came as no surprise that Robert’s relationship with his girlfriend came to a sudden end very quickly after that. He’d been complaining for some time about the toxic ideals of social media and the constant requirement to be ‘seen’ out in public as often as possible in order to boost her career. “She’s more suited to some actor, or someone who does publicity for a living,” Robert had explained as he shook his head over the fact that their break-up had made it into the middle sections of the national tabloids.
“You’re young, free and single now!” Guy had smiled. “You can take some time for yourself instead.” He hadn’t meant to sound flirtatious, but he didn’t seem to be able to help himself once he knew someone was into him. It was the way he had always been, and he didn’t suppose he would ever change.
“What can I get you gentlemen?” asked the attendant, heading over to their table in the small cafe where they were debriefing after a client meeting. The man was large and broad, with a giant stomach that pressed out of his shirt in a way a lot of the men from Guy’s past would have loved.
“Just a mineral water for me,” Guy answered first. He looked across at Robert and sighed in frustration as the boy stared rudely at that large gut. 
This time, Guy didn’t waste any time, giving Robert a quick kick under the table.
“A latte!” Robert shot out, realising immediately that he’d been gawping. “And, uh… have you got any of those brownies left?”
“What the fuck is up with you?” Guy asked the moment they were alone again.
Robert shrugged as if he genuinely failed to understand why he fell to pieces around such obese men. “What do you think it’s like, carrying all that weight around?” Robert asked, still transfixed as the guy headed behind the counter. He glanced back at Guy who was dumbfounded by the question. “Oh, come on…” he sighed. “I saw you with that big guy that time. You must have asked him what it feels like to be so heavy?”
“It’s not something I think about,” Guy replied, seeing that Robert looked unlikely to drop the question unless he gave a more considered answer. “But, I guess I wouldn’t date someone unless they liked their body.”
“Really?” Robert asked. “You date people who actually like being overweight?”
Guy didn’t mind discussing his sex life, but it felt strange to do so with someone from work; someone he wasn’t completely sure he could trust just yet. Back in the early days of his career, it had been slyly advantageous to impress other guys with tales of his sexual conquests. However, as he rose up the ranks, he’d learned to keep these stories to himself, knowing that the expectations were very different up at the top. Now he shrugged, taking his time to reply and only say what he needed to. “There’s nothing sexy about dating someone who hates their body. When I’m with larger folks, it’s usually because they want to be that way. They get off on it.”
Robert sat up a bit and leaned in closer, stimulated by the conversation. “There are people who get off on being fat?”
Guy chuckled. “Of course there are!” There was still so much he could tell Robert; about the gainer boys he had fallen for in the past, and the multiple kinky encounters he had had with guys who were actively trying to fatten themselves up.
The water, and Robert’s brownie arrived at the table and the server promised to follow with the latte shortly. “How do they do it?” Robert asked, eyeing his freshly delivered treat. “How do they let themselves go like that?”
Guy frowned slightly. “Well, what you may see as someone ‘letting-go’ may actually be them building something better for themselves: a body that feels right for them and turns them on. It’s actually very empowering if you think about it.”
“And you think that’s sexy?” Robert asked earnestly; a sweet innocence shining through his bright eyes.
“Of course!” Guy nodded. “Someone loving the skin they’re in - there’s nothing sexier!”
Life at the office suddenly became a lot more relaxed as Sheridan started to take even more of a step back. Guy found himself with a lot more power to persuade the board without the older man’s old fashioned points of view tainting things. It also helped that Robert was so much more in-tune with him; they could present a united front and, although most of the others on the team still grumbled about Robert’s injection into the senior management team, they had to admit that things were running a lot smoother with him around.
Guy had seen so much more of the world since he had moved to work in the UK. It seemed like nothing to pop over to Italy to secure a contract, or fly over to Dubai to capitalise on a lucrative opportunity. Six months after Robert began at the company, the pair found themselves in Sweden, leading part of a business conference. At first, Guy had been frustrated to have Robert coming along, given that it was such a good opportunity to network and find his next career jump. However, it had also been easier having him to share the workload with.
“I didn’t know you were coming down here,” Guy smiled as he saw Robert arriving in the spa changing room just as he himself was dressed only in his tight speedos and pushing the last of his things into the locker. He saw Robert check him out and smiled sweetly to himself. He’d known for a couple of months now that if something was ever going to happen between them, then it probably already would have happened by now. As it was, Robert was very much in the friend-zone. “Are you here to use the pool?” he asked.
Robert shook his head. “I just wanted to try out the sauna,” he replied.
Guy scowled a little as Robert turned his back to start getting changed. In the last few weeks, he’d noticed a little softening of the guy’s jawline and, although it wasn’t always easy to tell under a shirt and dress pants, it did appear as though Robert had gained a few pounds since he’d started full time work. Guy should know, he’d seen more than enough pictures of Robert’s body in the celebrity gossip columns, back when he was dating socialites. So when Robert removed his shirt, Guy could immediately see that his suspicions had been spot on.
It was most obvious when Robert leaned forward to strip his pants; the way his stomach rolled up with fresh fat. He had love handles coming in, clear to see once he turned his back. And those glutes… well, they seemed a little more full that the pert buns Guy had admired when Robert first started at the company. Guy had to say something. He’d been staring too long. He reached out a finger and poked Robert in his stomach. “What’s all this?” he playfully teased.
Robert chuckled nervously and shrank away, turning back around to put his stuff into the locker.
“No, seriously,” Guy pressed on, poking both index fingers into the softness at Robert’s sides now. “Where’s all this come from?”
“I’ve just… not had much time for the gym lately,” Robert replied, stacking his clothes up.
Guy looked at Robert’s butt from behind and nodded in agreement. “Well, that’s pretty obvious!” he agreed. He’d seen lots of guys at the gym start to pack on a few pounds over the years. Often, all they needed was a reality check to get them back on the right path. “I think you need to start doing a little more cardio, buddy,” he declared, turning to walk out and into the pool area.
After a few decent laps, Guy pulled himself out of the water and headed into the sauna, finding Robert still in there, alone. His skin had turned glossy and oily, shimmering as his little roll of stomach fat started to peek over the waistband of his undersized swim shorts.
Guy knew how imposing his own body was: his large frame and well-trained, muscular physique. Even in his early thirties, there wasn’t an inch of fat to spoil his enticing abs and, if anything, he’d only become stronger as the years went by. He flopped down opposite Robert, unable to take his eyes off how chubby the pretty boy looked without his shirt on. 
“So, when did all this start happening?” Guy asked, knowing that he needed to address what he was seeing.
Robert wriggled awkwardly and pulled his rolled up towel to cover his crotch and lower half of his softer midsection. “A few months,” he mumbled. “I’ve just been enjoying my food a little more.”
“No kidding!” Guy chuckled, surprised now by how much he could see the extra weight, even in Robert’s chest. “What’re you going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” Robert shrugged. “I don’t have the time to go to the gym now I’m working so much.”
Guy smirked at this and shook his head. “You mean you don’t want to make time for it?” he asked.
Robert flushed with a little embarrassment. “I’m okay with how I look,” he replied. His attention seemed to turn to Guy’s body instead, given how much scrutiny his own had been under. “Frankly, I had no idea you were so extremely toned,” he nodded at Guy’s torso. “Obviously, I knew you were super fit, but…”
“You’ve never seen me without my shirt on before?” Guy asked, intrigued and surprised at how aroused he was suddenly feeling to be gazed upon by Robert. He sat up straighter and leaned on one arm, posing slightly. There was something so sexy about this dynamic, making Guy feel more powerful and dominant. “How come we’ve never fucked?” he asked, knowing that it was always best to be blunt with the boys who were a little more shy.
Robert’s eyes widened and he stuttered awkwardly, like the overeducated, pompous boy he could very often be. Guy had always loved Robert’s upper class, bumbling English accent and the uptight manners that had been trained into him. It made it all the more fun to tease and flirt with him so blatantly. But with a larger company openly trying to poach him at the moment, Guy knew there wouldn’t be many opportunities like this left to have some fun with the boy. After all, the full benefits package was going to be presented to him as early as next week. He could be gone by the end of next month.
“Well?” Guy asked, pretending to be impatient for an answer. “Do you want to fuck?”
Within ten minutes, the pair were upstairs in Guy’s hotel room, kissing and undressing each other once more. Now that the barriers had been smashed down, Guy was surprised at how keenly Robert’s hands wanted to rub up against and stroke Guy’s erection. The moment the pants were down, the cute boy sank to his knees and took as much of it into his mouth as he could.
Guy exhaled in delight. It was always apparent when someone was genuinely into giving the best blow job they could. It was obvious now just how much he had underestimated Robert’s quiet attraction to him all these months. Like a tightly wound spring, the boy had energetically set to getting them both off the moment the bedroom door had closed, lustfully thrilled by how thick and heavy Guy’s hardness was.
The pair fooled around some more, Guy enjoying the reflections in the large mirror as the pair kissed in front of it. Those doughy little glutes of Robert’s looked so good, Guy knew he needed to take them as soon as he could, squirting lubricant into his hand and sliding it up between Robert’s butt cheeks. He spun the boy around in front of the mirror and gently inserted himself. He knew Robert wouldn’t be fully ready to take him today. It was a gift and a curse being so well endowed, with lovers needing at least two or three sessions to be properly broken in. Instead, Guy contented himself by getting as much in as he could and holding it there, training the hole to stretch. Submissive Robert appeared to love every second as he was held there, in front of the mirror.
“Does this feel nice?” Guy asked the boy, reaching around Robert’s hip to stroke his concrete erection; Robert watching himself getting taken by the older jock in the mirror.
Robert moaned back, his G-spot stimulated, sending his arousal into overdrive.
“Look at us…” Guy whispered, nodding towards their reflections in the mirror.
“I’m so chubby compared to you!” Robert quipped back, making a huge surge of blood pump through his boner, held firmly in Guy’s hand.
Suddenly, it all felt so very familiar to Guy. Robert’s fixation with larger guys had never been about looking down on them. Yet again, had the universe delivered another kinky fat-lover? Guy pressed his oversized erection in deeper, making Robert’s knees almost buckle underneath him. With one hand working Robert’s hardness, Guy used the other in a more experimental way, wrapping his fingers around as much of the fresh blubber in the boy’s stomach as he could, then whispering “It’s a good job you know I like fucking fatties, huh?” he teased. “You’re going to make such a cute chub…”
However close Robert had been before, a surge of pleasure seemed to rip through him. Great jets erupted from between his legs, making Guy chuckle at just how much of it there was and how forcefully it was being expelled from his body. He could always tell when he had just given someone the best orgasm of their life. And, for the first time ever, Guy felt that he didn’t need to climax himself in order to feel completely satisfied.
It was sweet how Robert fell asleep next to him afterwards. Sometimes when the sex was too good, Guy found that whoever it was would tend to imprint on him and become a little possessive. Usually, this was a warning signal for Guy to detach himself as fast as possible. However there was something too intriguing about Robert to give him up just yet. At 5am, he woke Robert with a kiss to let him know he was going down to the hotel gym and promised to meet him for breakfast at 6.30.
“No wonder that ass is so fuckable!” Guy teased, gazing at the plate of fattening meats and carbs Robert returned to their table with. He slipped his hand under the table, rubbing Robert’s knee. His intentions were clear: they were going to go back up to the room before the first session that day. He watched the greedy boy eating, wanting nothing more than to stick his hardness into the salivating mouth. For the first time, he found himself almost captivated by it; the act of eating. Robert definitely had some little hidden kinks when it came to the diet that had added a few pounds to his frame, yet it wasn’t yet clear how conscious he was of them.
Back in Guy’s bedroom, it was obvious how much Robert had overeaten and bloated up his stomach. Despite wanting to get rough and dominant with him, Guy took it slow and made it sensual, noticing how much Robert seemed to love it whenever Guy’s hand drifted onto his rounded middle. The eventual climax was as good as it got, ensuring that Guy broke all his own rules and brought Robert back to his bedroom a further three times before the end of the conference.
Robert’s butt was becoming quite the distraction back in the office. With the guy’s pants getting so tight, the swollen glutes pressed with devastating allure to the material: wider, under-exercised, softening and expanding - was there a more fuckable butt than this in the entire world? Guy knew he was in trouble when Robert bought concert tickets for them both for that weekend. They were slowly morphing into a ‘couple’ despite the secrecy that surrounded everything. It was the point when Guy typically made his excuses and cut things off. Yet something kept him from doing this. When Guy’s job offer came in, he convinced himself that it wasn’t a big enough deal to leave London for; getting his teeth stuck into another major project that would see him wanting to remain in his current job for at least another six months.
“What’re you all laughing about?” Guy asked, diverting into the little kitchen area whilst he was seeing someone on the floor below.
A small group of six people suddenly looked alarmed and stared at him nervously. Guy had had to accept that his seniority in the company meant he would never again be invited along to nights out with the other staff, or be included in the way he had been when he was just starting out. It was just the way these things seemed to work; those nervous eyes looking up at him whenever he ventured out of his lavish office on the top floor. 
“Nothing,” shrugged one of them, who seemed to be in the middle of it all.
“Oh, come on!” Guy smiled back. “I could do with a laugh today.”
There was a sigh. “Alright,” the lady shrugged, stepping closer and holding out her cell phone so that Guy could see the screen. “It’s an article about that jumped-up little Oxford graduate upstairs,” she grumbled, referencing Robert; the nepotism of his hiring still failing to impress those lower down in the food chain; those who had to work for everything they achieved.
Guy stepped in to see as she scrolled down a celebrity-obsessed tabloid webpage that Guy had never paid much attention to. He scanned the text briefly, but it was obvious that the pictures were the main focus. There was Robert of one year earlier, looking toned and athletic as he shirtlessly strolled about on his father’s yacht. However, it was the pictures from only last night that provided the entertainment. Robert had been attending a socialite party with some friends, dressed in an unwisely tight shirt that failed to stretch with the addition of a couple of bloating beers. His pants had been a poor fit too, pinching in at his hips and accentuating new love handles that looked particularly unflattering from the angles they had taken. The double chin on Robert also came under scrutiny, with a close up shot from a low angle making it seem more developed than it actually was.
“I didn’t think fat-shaming articles like this still existed,” Guy exhaled in frustration.
“That’s the British press for you,” one of them chuckled; another American, like him. “Fucking ruthless!”
Guy scowled. He wasn’t laughing. He raced back up the stairs and tapped on the window of Robert’s office, beckoning for him to follow. Once inside, he rolled down the blinds and immediately jumped on his computer. “There’s something you need to see,” he declared to a bemused Robert. Once uploaded, he rolled his chair back and allowed Robert to step in front and see the screen for himself.
“What a bitch!” Robert laughed, recognising the name of the journalist. Everyone seemed to know everyone else in Robert’s world. “This is one of the most vicious things I’ve ever read about myself,” he smirked.
“Aren’t you pissed about it?” Guy asked, feeling exasperated at Robert’s laid back attitude. “We can send it to the legal team; see if there’s anything we can do to have it taken down.”
“And then sue them? For what exactly?” Robert asked back. “There’s nothing that’s not true in there. I really have gained about 50lbs since last year,” he pointed at the text on screen.
Guy sat back, staring at Robert’s chubby butt as the boy continued to lean down at his computer right in front of him. Having initiated a ‘hands-off’ policy at work, Guy was finding it hard to resist touching that big, bloated butt that had been captured so magnificently in the pictures. Robert was smelling great and his fresh love handles seemed to be pushing out even more than Guy had seen them before. He was turned on. For the first time in his life, he felt aroused in a way that he was unable to put into words. Despite his outrage at seeing the cruel article on Robert, he couldn’t deny the fact that it had turned him on. It was a feeling he disliked in himself and he had wanted to push it away. Sure, he had dated guys in the past who would have enjoyed the very much public disapproval of their weight gain, but how was he to know that Robert would appreciate any of that? Had dating those gainers warped Guy’s brain into finding all that public humiliation irresistibly arousing?
“At least the firm got a mention,” Robert smiled, stepping away from the screen at last. Was that a bulge he was trying to conceal? “You know what they say: all publicity is good publicity!”
Guy stood up and placed his hands on Robert’s rounder butt, pulling him into him. Fuck the self-imposed rules about not kissing in work; he was horny and so was his cute little chub. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Guy whispered seductively, safe in the knowledge that the blinds were closed.
“Even though the whole of London is laughing at me?” Robert teased back.
“Fuck everyone else!” Guy shot back. “You know I’d never ask you to diet,” he whispered alongside another kiss. “In fact, why don’t you let me take you out for dinner tonight; someplace with the lovely, greasy, high-carb junk food you can’t get enough of…”
Robert cooed with interest, allowing Guy to kiss him over and over again. “And I can eat as much as I want?” he asked, continuing the flirtation.
Guy smiled proudly and bounced the doughy glutes he was going to pound later on. “You bet!” he nodded. “You won’t hear any complaints from me!”
Guy wondered how much longer it would be until the all important conversation with Robert would happen. It had been almost five months since they’d hooked up on the business trip and, despite the secrecy around their relationship, neither of them was seeing anyone else. For Guy, it was a huge deal to have committed to sleeping with only one person in that whole time, yet it had all happened quite naturally. Sexually, it seemed that the pair of them were very compatible. Guy would swiftly move from a romantic, nurturing lover, into one with the fitness and stamina to fuck Robert all night long. In return, Robert liked to be seduced and tempted. There was a submissive side to him and he enjoyed being pampered and taken care of. Since getting together, it was obvious that his weight gain was speeding up and he’d pushed out quite the beginner-belly in that time. It was sitting, round and tempting in his shirts, making Guy appreciate how lucky he was that Robert felt so comfortable with him to just…let his appetite go like he had. The extra pounds felt like their own, quiet love language, despite the fact that it was clearly symptomatic of something much more erotic.
“Quit staring!” Guy laughed as a fat guy waddled into the restaurant behind his similarly obese wife. In the past, he’d found it embarrassing how much Robert would ogle; his fascination towards those extreme bodies getting the better of him.
“Sorry!” Robert replied, trying to refocus on his menu. Freshly shaven, his new double chin always looked so adorable when his head was in that position. Only a few minutes earlier, they’d bumped into a few friends of Robert’s ex; all of them staring disapprovingly at the little pot belly that was starting to make itself very well known.
Guy reached his giant hand under the table and stroked Robert’s knee, not quite knowing what was going through his head. “Order as much food as you like, okay?” he smiled sweetly.
Robert nodded and didn’t disappoint.
“You’re doing it again,” Guy laughed later on, as the pair of them were sitting in a bar near Soho, enjoying the buzz of the evening. “I’ll have to take you home to the US sometime. We have some of the fattest guys around, especially where I’m from, in West Virginia.”
Robert shook his head as if he was trying to restart his brain, apologising once more. “I don’t know why I do it,” he sighed. “I just…” he began, before sighing with frustration at being unable to put it into words.
“You just need to know what it feels like,” Guy finished for him.
Robert turned his head to look at Guy properly. “Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he nodded, seemingly delighted that his lover knew him so well.
Guy slipped his hand onto Robert’s little pot belly, rubbing it back and forth. “I saw the little boner you got, reading that mean article about yourself,” he teased.
Robert looked around, checking that no one else could see them. He smiled, turning back to Guy and allowing himself to be seduced; Guy’s lips getting aching close to his own. “Oh, yeah?” he whispered excitedly back.
“I’ve known for a long time,” Guy smiled, slipping his fingers under the slight overhang of belly fat and jiggling. “You want to be a real fat boy, don’t you?” His voice was almost cracking with arousal. He loved kinks in all their different forms, having experienced so many with the great variety of sexual partners he had had over the years. But this weight gain kink seemed like so much more; the physical transformation, the contrast; the confidence, combined with humiliation and submission. It ticked so many boxes for him. Best of all, Guy had had the time of his life these last few months, trying to gently tease it out of Robert. “It’s the reason why I’m taking you for more food after we leave here,” he smiled. “I know that you need to experience what it’s like to carry a much larger gut than this.”
Like putty in Guy’s hand, Robert kissed him. “I can’t believe you’re willing to put up with this,” he chuckled, lifting his arms higher so that Guy could jiggle his stomach even more. “Most people would just think I’m a freak!”
Guy smiled back. “Maybe I’m enjoying it,” he teased, grabbing a full wedge of Robert’s belly fat and just holding it still for them both to see. “Maybe I’m a freak too...”
Robert grinned with lust. “I ate so much before at the restaurant!”
“You did,” Guy smiled. He’d never particularly enjoyed waiting around as his lovers overate to satisfy these types of kinks. However, he at least understood how it all tied in with the erotic process of gaining weight; the greed, the gluttony, the deliberate bloating with calories. “...And you’re going to eat even more shortly,” he whispered back.
Robert raised his eyebrows. Was Guy really serious about that?
“You’re a gainer,” he stated frankly to Robert. “You do realise that, yeah?”
Robert looked around once more, checking that they were still unobserved. Somehow, putting a label on all this had suddenly solidified everything in both their minds.
“I’ve seen all this before. You need to keep pushing; keep overeating, again and again. Otherwise your weight will plateau and your belly will stop expanding.” He looked at his lover seriously. “And you don’t want that, do you?”
The chubby boy stared back with absolute lust. He shook his head, picked up his beer and drained the remainder of his pint. “Come on then!” he grinned. “What are we waiting for?”
The prospect of moving in with a lover was something Guy had never believed was right for him. Yet, there he was, unloading all his things into Robert’s city apartment, whilst the rest of his stuff had gone into long-term storage. It had been quite the gamble, releasing the equity in his home to further invest in the start-up AI company he had sunk a vast amount of cash into three years earlier. However, it was now or never if they were to corner the market like they needed to. Robert had agreed and been the one to suggest the cohabiting solution; his business advice being the one Guy trusted more than any other, having worked so closely for months now. As a couple, they worked well. They understood the joy they both got from their work and shared a similar mindset when it came to almost all other things. Stil, moving it had made Guy nervous, and it had taken him longer than his rational business brain normally operated in order to make a decisiona bout it. However, in return, Guy now had a majority 62% share in his own company, and had found that he could live more than happily alongside his doughy lover in North London.
With Guy around, Robert had seemed to double down on his weight goals and recommit in a way he had never allowed himself to before. Just like Guy was pouring protein shakes into himself after the gym, Robert was doing much the same with his own fattening concoctions; his kinks developing in all new ways. Within a couple of days, they had fucked in every room; Guy being unable to resist the fresh, plump broadness of Robert’s once toned and slender butt cheeks.
Now that Robert could be so open about his desires to gain weight, he actively enjoyed listening to Guy’s past experiences. Unlike most people, who didn’t want to hear about their partners’ previous lovers, Robert wanted to hear tales of Mikey and Dillon over and over again, and how Guy had sat back, excitedly watching them growing fatter and fatter.
“I don’t know what my parents are going to think about us being together,” Robert fretted, knowing that his family were soon returning for the holidays from their villa in Italy.
“Why?” Guy asked. “Because I’m the first man you’ve dated?”
“No,” Robert smirked cheekily back. “Because you’re an American!” he teased.
The pair laughed and Guy launched into tickling him for his playful rudeness. “Seriously, though. Your dad loves me. Before he stepped back from the business, we used to get on great.”
Robert nodded, but there was a worry in his eyes that didn’t abate as the big day arrived. Guy should have been aware that something was wrong the moment Robert slipped on the giant sweater that morning; the one with the huge roll-up neck. Black and loose fitting, it was clear that the man was trying to conceal the extent to which he had fattened up in the last twelve months. But in so doing, what he actually became was a dark, thick, shapeless block, with chubby thighs that strained against the smart pants he wore below.
Guy had had relatively little to do with Robert’s family since they had started dating. The pair had both had the sense that their relationship wasn’t being taken all that seriously. Robert had not long turned twenty-four and his dad had openly referred to his son’s romantic attachment as a ‘phase’ that Robert was going through. As such, Guy dressed smartly, cancelled all his plans for Christmas Day, prepared suitably expensive Christmas gifts and drove himself and Robert to the family home in Kent; a lavish country manner, handed down over generations.
Despite everything Guy had anticipated, he hadn’t been the focus of the day whatsoever. Gasps and horrified looks greeted them as Robert strolled in and removed his large winter jacket. The comments hit hard and fast. They were harsh, fatphobic and unjustified, setting Guy at odds with the family each time he called them out, unprepared to let their prejudices slide.
“I thought you guys video called every week?” Guy whispered to Robert the moment they had a second alone.
Robert seemed drained and exhausted from it all. “I may have told them my camera has been broken these last few months,” he replied.
Guy exhaled, now realising the absolute shock everyone must have felt. Despite the relatively good job the sweater was doing at masking a lot of the blubber, since September, Robert’s cheeks had been blowing up in a way that had altered the entire shape of his face. The gains had been further documented in a second critical article about his appearance back in October, however Guy suspected that such garbage hadn’t reached the family, safely tucked away in Italy, upon the shores of Lake Como.
“Mum and Dad are going to remove me from the company,” Robert fretted on the way home. “Especially now you’re leaving.”
“No they’re not!” Guy replied, trying to calm his boyfriend’s melodrama. “Even your dad can’t argue with the share price since you started running things. He’s just pissed and lashing out.”
“Dad doesn’t want ‘a fat guy’ to be in charge,” Robert grumbled next, quoting his father’s words exactly. “I was hoping today would be about them getting to know you properly, but…”
Guy sighed. The day had been disastrous. He could tell that he was going to be at odds with Robert’s family until he agreed to do what they wanted and insist that Robert dieted. They both felt flat for the remainder of the evening, making Guy wish he had cancelled his flight home to see his folks that week.
Upon his return, a very different Robert greeted him. A new personal trainer had been appointed and, together, the pair of them had cleared away anything in the cupboards that she felt was contributing to Robert’s ‘weight problems’.
“You’re not cross, are you?” Robert asked.
“Cross?” Guy echoed. “Why would I be cross?” he chuckled, hugging the man he had fallen so deeply for. “Gaining is your thing, not mine. If you want to quit, I’ll support you however I can.” In truth, he had never expected Robert’s gains to last forever. Sure, the man had caught the gainer bug, but it wasn’t quite as extreme or important to him as it had been for someone like Mikey, in Guy’s past.
Robert hugged him sweetly back, having made up his mind that a new year demanded a fresh start. He began eating better and taking Guy’s advice on nutrition; even joining him for a round or two at the gym. Robert was soon pulling out his older clothes from the back of his closet, replacing the large winter sweaters with more fitted t-shirts in time for the Spring. Yet, two cute and stubborn love handles remained at his sides; a testament to the kinky fun that he had once enjoyed so much.
Guy had never enjoyed work so much since he’d left Robert’s family firm to head up the AI company he had invested so heavily in. Now he was no longer just making money for other people, he could work hard, put the work in, and reap the rewards tenfold. There was so much potential with the technology, and he had been working closely with the British Ministry of Defence to showcase how they could use some of their adapted systems. It was exciting, that buzz of adrenaline from making things work, capitalising on successes and carving out new opportunities for an increasingly valuable and influential company.
Robert was busy with his work too. With his father and Guy out of the way, things actually became easier to manage and there was a clear leadership structure in place.
“Off out for lunch with clients again?” Guy teased him, looking over Robert’s shoulder and seeing the calendar on his cell phone screen. “Careful! You’ll be getting all chunky again!” he joked, sliding his hands over Robert’s chest and down to the small, remaining store of belly fat that refused to budge.
A bulge in Robert’s pants jumped to attention whenever Guy joked about his  yo-yoing weight. Now that Robert had relaxed a little, he’d wanted Guy to start the kinky talk in the bedroom once more, telling him how fat he could be and the things he would do to his body once he was round and blubbery. This was the thing Guy liked best about dating those with kinks; it was just so easy to turn them on and have them pumped up and ready for some sexy action. There were trigger actions and words that could flip any boring situation into something exciting and arousing, all with so little effort. And, once again, Robert was nursing quite the erection.
“For my birthday next week, I want to try pouring double cream down your throat,” Guy whispered to him. “Like we used to in the old days.”
Robert moaned in pleasure at the thought, clearly replaying those kinky memories from the past.
“You’d forget about your diet for one day, wouldn’t you?” Guy asked, sliding his meaty hand over Robert’s crotch.
Robert nodded submissively. The old habits were creeping back in; the longing to feel his body holding more weight again. The instances where he was willing to forgo his strict exercise regime were increasing. Guy knew that it was only a matter of time before the gains began anew. Perhaps it would be a fun life, this continuous cycle of weight gain and loss.
Taking Robert over to visit Guy’s family had been considerably less stressful than the Christmas in Kent. Guy’s mother had long accepted that her handsome son was a law unto himself, living a whirlwind existence that she could hardly comprehend. She liked Robert, thinking him handsome and much like the typical romantic, bumbling Englishmen of the many movies she had watched over the years. Guy’s aunts had agreed, never noticing once how much Robert was overeating the entire trip.
Surrounded by tempting, tasty foods around every corner, as well as fascinating specimens of obesity in Charleston, Guy’s home city, Robert had carried a lust about him the entire week. For Guy, it reminded him why he loved dating gainers so much. As Robert gorged himself on take-out in the hotel room, Guy could hold the man’s impossibly hard shaft, playing with it as gently and delicately as he could, for fear that it could, and would, explode at any second.
“I want to be a fat boy!” a horny Robert would exclaim, right before climaxing, time and time again.
Guy would then chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. “I know you do!” he’d shoot back, his eyes dancing with delight; the greatest of all pleasures seeing his boyfriend overtaken by his own lust. In truth, it would be easy. Robert had already fucked up his metabolism last time. The pounds failed to shift like they should in a normal, athletic, mid-twenties male and they packed back on with shocking speed. But when Guy told him that, there was no stopping the sudden surge from Robert’s groin, and the complete mess that was made all over the bed as jets flew in every direction. A simple week away had spiked Robert’s weight by an incredible fifteen pounds. 
“You look so fucking sexy!” Guy growled, admiring the large butt that had reappeared on his lover, filling his work pants right back up again.
Robert twisted his hips in the mirror to get a good look, smiling proudly. “I wish you were a proper feeder,” he sighed. “I know I would go so much further if I knew you were going to get off on making me gorge myself.”
Guy tried not to show how cut up he felt. He remembered how he had lost previous lovers for the exact same reason. They wanted more from him than he felt capable of giving. Sure, he loved bringing Robert to the absolute heights of lust, but he wasn’t in the habit of devising a food schedule, nor engaging in endless calorie counting; the true nuts and bolts of gaining. Guy considered how best to remedy this. No longer having an office to travel to each morning, he used the time to stock up the cupboards with all the things he knew Robert liked to feast upon when he was horny. And boy, during this most recent gainer phase, those fresh pounds certainly caused Robert to be horny! It was like a self-propelling cycle of lust, overeating and pleasure. In the time since Robert had last gained, Guy had developed a better knowledge of the kinky little pet names his lover enjoyed: Piggy, Fat Boy and Porker. He could throw them in whenever he wanted, and enjoyed messaging Robert at work to ensure he was wound up and horny by the time he got home, ready to eat.
The results were inevitable. Sexy, undiluted fat slid back onto Robert’s body with ease. His butt blew back up even more, but he was undoubtedly carrying more on his belly this time, making even his largest shirts requiring upgrades.
“Are these new trousers?” asked Robert one morning as he trotted about to get ready.
Guy, who had already returned from an hour-long session at the gym, smirked and nodded his head. “With a little extra growing room for my Fat Boy!” he whispered teasingly back. In truth, he knew that the same thing would eventually happen as last time: Robert would get put off and start his diet all over again, making himself miserable in the process. What he needed was a lover who would ease him into the changes smoothly and be there to show him how sexy his swelling body could be; similar to how a true feeder would; the ones who consumed Robert’s fantasies as he watched his body swelling up.
Now that Robert had been at his family’s firm for over two years, he didn’t worry about suddenly being replaced by his disapproving family. They needed him, as well as his sharp business brain, to keep bringing in the flow of wealth. Likewise for Guy, things had continued to go from strength to strength and there had been some decent press coverage of the technology his company was developing. They’d bought premises in North London and were expanding into the north with further development centers. The success was intoxicating, and when Guy felt happy, he certainly became hornier and hornier.
“Head back!” Guy ordered his boyfriend as he held the pot of cream aloft. He smirked, looking at how insanely hard his blubbery boyfriend got whenever Guy treated him to a feeding like this; never failing to explode at the prospect of greater amounts of deliberately fattening calories.
Down they all went, time and time again; the fat building into his waist, puffing up his arms and broadening out the glutes; each pound making Robert hungrier for more. Hitting 270lbs had been a huge thing for him, but Guy wasn’t sure the boy could make it to the full three hundred. Already, he had started to complain about how much he was sweating and a couple of his friends had dropped him from their groups. He now looked so contrasting in appearance to Guy. Whilst this was thrilling and exciting on good days; bad days, he felt self-conscious and low.
Guy had been thinking about it for some time as he set his computer up in his hotel room. Being so far away from Robert for six weeks had been challenging, but the business opportunities in California were unrivalled. Guy could see how much further ahead his own company’s technology was to any other. Of late, all they had to do when encountering issues was to question the technology itself, leading to massive creative growth, developing at a faster pace than any of them had ever anticipated. It was the whole reason why he knew it wouldn’t fail him with Robert that evening. The computer knew the objective: getting Robert as horny as possible by making him eat the most calories that it could.
The deep-fake version of Guy came on the screen. It really was remarkable seeing Guy’s own mannerisms and voice reproduced so flawlessly. “Are you ready to eat for me, Fat Boy?” it asked.
Immediately, Guy could see the naive Robert responding. He began to eat to the gentle teasing of the software. As Robert replied to it, the computer seemed to learn more and more about him, soon branching off-script and generating its own responses that it knew its target would better appreciate. In a matter of minutes, it was speaking to Robert as if it had an even more in-depth knowledge of the man’s kinks than Guy had acquired in the last three years. And just look at Robert go! He was gorging himself like an absolute pig, rubbing his fattening belly and jiggling it in a way that Guy had never witnessed him doing before. He didn’t need to track the calories that Robert was eating, the computer was scoring it all at the bottom of his screen; the number steadily increasing towards the target. “Come on, Fatso!” the software teased, prompting whenever required. “Get it all down for me!”
By the time Guy got home, he knew that Robert’s pants were going to be completely busted. There was no way the man could cope with encouragement like this every evening and not pack on a staggering amount of fat. How exciting it would be, knowing that his lover was about to be a lot softer the next time he touched him…
Looking at the data from these sessions, Guy picked up a lot of tips by the time he made it home. He reconfigured the software, generating full reports and connected up the bathroom scales into the system so that he could gather even more information. It was clear that the trial was making a huge impact, especially when it started messaging Robert at work, reminding him of the importance to eat; using the trigger words it knew to be the most effective. When Robert’s watch would feed into the system that he was feeling stressed or low, the software would generate further kinky messages and even purchase food to be delivered that it knew would spike Robert’s dopamine. But in the monitoring of what Robert ate, the computer soon learned which foods promoted Robert’s weight gain the most. Unlike many fatties, heavy carbs, like pasta, failed to have the impact that meats and cheeses appeared to generate. 
With such immediate effects, Robert had rapidly surpassed his previous high weight, entering into all new, blubbery territory. For Guy, it was incomprehensibly erotic to be able to touch or grab any part of his lover’s body and have the man turned on to such a wild extent. Using buzz words or phrases from the software reports made Robert instantly hard. Wafting a sugary treat under his nose, or commenting on the disastrous fit of the man’s clothes created a sexual arousal like nothing Guy had seen before. It was as if Robert’s entire sex drive had been trained to activate upon even the gentlest jiggle of his fleshier body. In Robert’s own words, the system had been ‘the best gift’ he had ever received. Even as he surpassed 300lbs, all thoughts of dieting appeared to be completely off the table.
“That’s Rachel Rivero,” Robert pointed out a few weeks later as he and Guy attended a charity event in The City.
“So, that’s her!” Guy smirked, gazing upon the journalist who had written all the critical articles about Robert’s weight gain. The most recent piece, only last week, had been the most savage of all as she even chased up quotes from members of Robert’s family to comment on how significantly obese he had become. “She’s hardly slim herself!” Guy grunted disapprovingly at the middle aged woman sipping champagne by the large ice sculpture.
Guy bided his time, leaving Robert with some mutual friends before he slipped back to find the journalist in question. He had the instinct to try and protect his lover, wanting nothing more than this fatphobic, judgemental woman to simply back off from picking on Robert.
“My name is…” Guy began, holding out his hand the moment there was an opening to introduce himself to her.
“I know who you are,” the lady sighed back, as if she already knew everything Guy was going to say. “The answer is ‘no’. I get good numbers on my articles about your little boyfriend.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Although, maybe the real story is why such a handsome man as yourself would even go after someone who struggles so much with his weight?” She eyed his powerful body up and down. “You are quite the specimen!” she smirked, as if smelling a potential story.
“Or, maybe the headline should be about you,” Guy stated, smiling confidently. “Picking on Robert by writing mean articles about him, simply because you'd ended your secret, extra-marital affair with his father… it doesn’t exactly smack of professional integrity, does it?”
Rachel stiffened, sensing a challenger. “Darling, no one’s going to believe that!” she smirked, starting to walk away.
“They will with all the evidence I have saved on here,” Guy returned with an equally condescending smile as he lifted his cell phone. “Pictures, documents, receipts, CCTV footage,” he nodded. “It’s amazing the things you can dig up when you set your mind to it…”
The woman glared, understanding that this was no bluff. Ten minutes was all it had taken for Guy to access the software to complete a deep dive into everything about this woman. What would have taken a personal investigator five years to amass had been automatically downloaded onto Guy’s cell phone, all whilst having a glass of mineral water at the bar.
“You don’t want to start something with me,” Rachel warned, retreating nonetheless.
“I’m sure I won’t need to,” Guy threw back, smiling victoriously. “Just leave Robert alone!”
Pleased with himself, Guy walked back over to Robert, gazing upon that thick, chubby ass with pride. Ever since he’d introduced the virtual feeder tool, Robert had been piling on the blubber like never before; those soft, squishy glutes showcasing every last calorie that had been desperately consumed. Robert never would have worn pants so snug to come to an event like this before; having also chosen a shirt that stretched so unflattering across his love handles. To Guy, it seemed so thrilling; like Robert’s kinkiness was being harvested and controlled; he desired food and sex in equal measures and had become more submissive to his lust for Guy than ever before. When he held the fat boy's little dick in his hand, it was so devastatingly hard, and always pathetically easy to bring keep it teetering on the very edge of an extreme orgasm.
Guy snuck up behind him and rested his strong arm over his lover’s shoulders, turning and seeing Rachel eyeing him coldy from afar. She really had been a hateful presence these last couple of years. Although the AI software had recently seemed to find a way to make Robert enjoy the humiliating content and pictures in those articles, letting her know that she couldn’t push them around had still felt every bit as satisfying as Guy had hoped. Now they could at last live their lives in peace.
“Oh my goodness!” Guy exclaimed four weeks later, seeing the article the moment he woke up, having had it sent to him by three different people in his circle. He could feel the dread consuming him as each paragraph made for more and more damning reading. Not only was this new article providing the most extreme pictures of Robert’s over 360lb body to date, but that disgusting journalist had clearly set out to ruin Guy himself. There he was, being outed as: ‘The world’s most prolific feeder.’
For the first time in years, Guy’s first love, Mikey, was staring up from the screen at him; comparison pictures of them both from when they’d started college, alongside a recent picture of Mikey with an additional four hundred pounds filling up his body. There were quotes from people Guy had known in college, twisted to back-up the case that Guy had fed and ‘destroyed’ a promising young academic with his devious kink.   
Quite a few paragraphs were devoted to Dillon too. That bastard had even provided Rachel with quotes, speaking openly about how much Guy had enjoyed his greedy appetite and lust for his expanding body. “Without him, I never would have ended up at 500lbs,” he’d stated, right before the article went on to detail, in quite devastating detail, the timeline of Robert’s own transformation; gaining weight pretty much as soon as he had met Guy and started dating him.
It didn’t take a genius to work out that Guy’s reputation was in tatters. The comments section alone was enough to show just how cleverly Rachel Riverto had twisted all those little facts to make him seem like the most evil being to have ever walked the Earth. The timing couldn’t have been more disastrous. It had been a sting operation, ensuring that the Ministry of Defence would pull out of the major deal they were about to sign with Guy’s company that very afternoon, destroying years of work that had led up to this moment. Guy felt sick to his stomach. In his whole career, he’d never experienced such a personal, calculated attack.
It was ironic; in all those years, Guy had never considered himself a feeder. He’d simply enjoyed sharing in these guys’ kinks and admired their confidence as their bodies expanded in ways that most of society disapproved of. There was no crime in that; was there?
Having built up more and more shares over the years, Guy was able to refuse the wishes of those in his company who wished for him to step down; though he had to fight hard and argue well for that privilege. With every setback came a further opportunity, Guy had decided, looking at his enormous, lardy boyfriend getting hard by reading all the comments on the new pictures of his 360lb body. With the complete shit storm that had consumed Guy’s life, it was cute how Robert seemed to care so little, and how incredibly hot he appeared to find it all instead. The Robert of old would have run a mile the second a scandal like this broke out. Now, it was all part of the erotic play that was his life.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Robert asked, feasting upon a large pizza and stroking his giant, fat-filled stomach in front of the TV, much like he did every evening.
Guy smiled, feeling, in a strange sense, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. There was no way he could have watched Robert grow like he had in the last six months and not realise that there was a serious business opportunity in all this. However, he never would have had the confidence to go for it had his name not been dragged through the mud like it had been that week. He rubbed his finger proudly across his lover’s enormous double chin. The AI had prompted Robert to keep it well shaved and it really had helped to make him look more obese than ever before.
“I may not be a feeder,” Guy began. “But I’ve somehow created the most effective motivation tool in the world,” he smiled. “And I imagine that’s not the only thing this technology could do,” he nodded, enthused by the untapped potential of what he had developed. “I believe that there are billions of people with other fun, playful kinks; just like this, too embarrassed to share it with another human being.”
Robert pulled a sceptical face, like he hadn’t even realised how much his own behaviours and physical appearance had been transformed by the technology that had been brought into his life by Guy.
Guy grabbed a giant wedge of Robert’s belly fat as he continued to make his point. “The technology was already good, but you realise you’ve packed on almost 40lbs since we introduced your brain scan data into the system six weeks ago? You wake up in the night to eat ice cream, you can’t seem to get off unless you’re stuffed! You’ve turned into this great big, fat ball of kink!” he nodded proudly. “If I market this slowly, collect more neural data…” he explained, more to himself than anyone else. “I could get better at mapping these kinks; all the different fetishes out there! Then I could provide people with the most erotic experiences of their lives; unlock desires they never even knew they had!”
“It’s still only a face on a screen,” Robert replied, seeming to cautiously accept some potential in what Guy was saying.
“Then we take it off the screen!” Guy smiled. “We put it in ear-pieces for bored husbands and wives, wanting to spice up their love lives. We use it to create bespoke AI erotic movies for folks to enjoy. We develop androids that can pleasure their targets like nothing else on the planet. By the eightieth generation of this software, the possibilities will be limitless!”
Robert stacked another two slices of pizzas and bit down on them both, nodding. “Alright,” he nodded. “It’s a pretty lucrative idea,” he agreed.
Guy smiled proudly and kissed his fattening lover, admiring the vast contrast between their bodies as they made love later that evening.
“Do you think this is going to happen to more folks then?” Robert asked as he pinched his belly fat. “Your AI systems have learned so much about my fat kinks, it’ll uncover it in more people?”
“Without a doubt!” Guy grinned back, taking hold of Robert’s fat himself and jiggling it joyfully. “Hundred of them. Thousands. Maybe even millions! Delicious, kinky little fuckers, growing their bellies out, just like you!”
“That journalist was right,” Robert smiled, feeling himself starting to climax at the touch. “I really am in way over my head!”
“You think so, Fatty?” Guy asked, having learned from the neural data how much Robert’s arousal spiked at that name.
Robert nodded, his eyes rolling back into his head. “...I really am dating the world’s most prolific feeder.”
Guy smiled, watching as Robert could hold back his orgasm no longer. He was about to bring this pleasure to everyone, across the entire world. Again and Again. After all these years, perhaps he was feeder after all…
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stalkedbytrains · 2 days ago
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The air this morning was crisp, cool, almost but not quite the first frost.
The kind of morning that was perfect for sitting on the bench on the porch and drinking a beautiful warm coffee.
The hero sat there, drinking their morning coffee, watching the sun fully pull itself out of the horizon.
From out of the forest came a tall, imposing figure. Their hands were covered in dirt and mud and leaves.
The figure stalked right up to the hero on the porch.
"Where did you go?"
"I was out in the darkest part of the forest burying my old stuff."
"Before sunrise?"
"Dark lords and dark deeds are best done before the sun."
"You're so weird."
"It's ritual. It just feels right."
"Go get cleaned up, there's coffee inside for you."
The former dark lord, smiled. A fun, mischievous smile. They advanced on the blanket covered hero.
"Oh no! Don't you come over here all covered in mud! Don't you dare!"
Their companion's voice dropped a few levels, in a way that could have been intimidating, sexy, or both. "But I am so cold. I desire your warmth. Give me your warmth."
They advanced on the hero, dirty hands out stretched.
"Noooo!" the hero cried in mock distress, barely containing their laughter, as they were enveloped by the large, built, dirty dark lord. They tried to fight off their old enemy, but it was a losing fight.
After a moment, the dark lord settled on the porch bench behind their hero, their arms wrapped around the smaller figure. Their cold and dirty body greedily drinking in the warmth of the hero.
"Mmm... warmth," the once evil overlord said as they kissed the exposed neck of the hero with cold lips. "I will take it all from you."
The hero laughed, reaching back to put their hand on the back of the villain's head to keep them close.
"Do you think they bought it?" the hero asked. "Do you think they're going to search for us? Do you think it's finally over?"
"It better be," the dark lord said. "We didn't give them any reason to suspect we're still alive. Our finale was a spectacle. But I suspect people will always be looking for you."
"But I don't want to be anywhere but here," the hero whispered. "With you."
"Good," the villain said as they tightened their grip around the hero's hips. "I want you to be mine and only mine. And I want to only be your's."
The hero grinned. "But you do know where you left your stuff. Just in case."
"Just in case. It'll come back if I need it. But we won't. Where did you put your stuff?"
"I just put it in the cellar. In a box."
The villain finally leaned away from the hero, putting some distance between them. "I can't believe I love you. You have no style, no panache, no gravitas. Your hero attire in a box in a cellar? How trite!"
"And what do you think I should have done? Placed my sword in a stone? Given my armor to some pair of stone golems that only talk in riddles and puzzles?"
"At a minimum."
"But then people might look for me even harder."
"Or they will accept that the mantle will only pass to the next hero when needed."
"Why? Do you think there is going to be another evil overlord, leader of darkness to replace you?"
"No one that will be as attractive as me."
"Don't flatter yourself," the hero said teasingly, but with a stolen kiss. "Now go get cleaned up, so we can have breakfast together. Like I've wanted to for a long time."
"And if I want to dine on... something else?"
"Oh! You..."
"I don't hear a no."
The former dark lord stood up, suddenly tightening their grip on the hero, lifting them with the motion and moving into the small cottage with delightful peals of laughter from the now retired hero.
------
For years it was good. Perfect.
The world had not needed their hero for a long time.
The reforms and changes they introduced meant there need not be a villain to challenge and destroy the system.
Until one day when the hero didn't come home.
The former dark lord knew immediately that something was wrong when the sun had set without the hero coming back home.
Such a thing was unthinkable. No contact or message. No, that wasn't something they would ever do.
There was a feeling in the air. The dark lord tried to deny it. It was just the winds of an early winter, even though they knew that wasn't the truth.
With a twitch, a movement that was a familiar one, a long unused bit of muscle memory, the pieces of the office of Dark Lord flew from their long ago buried tomb in the darkest part of the woods and joined their master.
Heavy, sharp, precise dark metal gauntlets that pinched a little at softened skin but quickly grew and changed and shifted to fit perfectly. The dark helm settled gently on their head, fitting perfectly like it used to so long ago. The cloak was covered in dirt and dead leaves, but that only added to the aesthetic of the thing. It wrapped itself around the dark lord in a cool, comforting, almost forgotten embrace.
The last of the dark lord's attire was assembled and it felt familiar and cold in a way that they had grown away from but couldn't entirely forget.
With everything they'd need they walked, trespassing through shadows, and locked doors, and forgotten ritual sites, until they found their way back to a place that used to be home.
A dark, foreboding, cold castle at the edge of the world.
It was occupied.
Someone was trying to take their mantle. And as far as they cared, they could have it.
But these kinds of people always had to do something showy to cement their power.
"Ah, I was wondering when I would hear-" the new villain said, but they were cut off as the previous dark lord immediately closed the distance and clasped a strong hand on their neck and squeezed.
"I understand the game. I know what you are up to. But this time it won't work. Because you clearly don't understand boundaries. You took something that belongs to me."
The new villain smiled.
"Oh old timer. Perhaps you forgot something as well. Dark can't fight against the dark. You have no power here. You're just old, out of shape, and soft. This will go quickly."
The dark lord laughs as the upstart pulled themselves free.
"Magic isn't a muscle, it's not something that can wither and die. It's a reservoir. And I still have magic to burn. So while I can't kill you with it. I don't need to."
They reached into the old cloak and from the darkness within it, pulled out something that burned like a star. They suddenly held on to a bright and blinding sword.
"This is my partner's. You return them to me and you won't feel the sting. Find some corrupt politician or king to execute to make your grand statement."
"But who better to cement my name than the death of the last great hero!"
The upstart villain never spoke another word. The dark lord cleaned off their partner's weapon, putting away with a careful reverence. They then went to rescue their love and return them home. Where they belonged.
i have a kofi if you'd like to tip me for doing stuff like this
The hero and the dark lord have both disappeared after their battle, making everyone think they both perished. In reality, they are living on a farm, living the life of their dreams.
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l-starsz · 3 days ago
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i walked into billies house. she’d recently moved and i’d been to the new house a few times, but not a lot. as soon as i walked in though, i spotted that window. it was massive, and the perfect place for her to fuck me. although we were only supposed to be friends, i couldn’t help my feelings. i needed her as more than a friend. so bad.
maybe one day it’d happen. i hoped so. i often thought about the things i wished would happen between us. i didn’t think she felt the same though. i was the only one out of us feeling this. so i had to push my feelings away and make sure she didn’t know, or didn’t find out. if she found out it’d ruin everything. she’d leave me. i’d end up with no one.
so although it hurt to hide these feelings when we were in each others arms almost everyday, whether we were watching movies, or going to sleep, we were clinging onto eachother, i couldn’t lose her. when we were out we’d often hold hands and would rarely go anywhere by ourselves. we were very touched with eachother, so it did make it more difficult, but i couldn’t lose her.
we were in her living room, cuddled up together on her sofa and watching a movie. i’d completely lost focus on the movie a while ago though. i was focused on billies hands. one of them was placed on my waist, while the other rested on my upper thigh. we were sprawled out, me in between her legs and my back resting against her. i needed her so bad.
after a little while, she shifted so that both of her hands were on my waist for a bit before she snaked her arms around me, holding me close to her. i leaned my head back a little so it was on her shoulder and i was looking up at her. she immediately looked down and smirked, seeing my pink cheeks.
what i didn’t know then, was that she actually felt the same as i did. and she knew how i felt. i thought id been good at hiding it but to billie it was obvious. she knew everything about me, she knew how to read me like a book, so of course i couldn’t hide this without her finding out. she noticed that i was always a little more shy around her and i was super clingy. and obviously she noticed when i was blushing all the time, even though whenever she’d ask id brush it off as me being warm. that may have been the case sometimes, but a lot of the time it wasn’t for that reason.
the eye contact was almost unbearable, i just wanted to press my lips against hers and finally confess how bad i wanted her. needed her. it was as if she read my mind because one minute she was smirking down at me and the next minute her lips were pressed against mine in a hungry and desperate kiss. this told her how bad i needed her. after a minute, she abruptly pulled away, looking at me with wide eyes.
“i shouldn’t of- i’m sorry-“
before she could finish talking, i turned on her lap and kissed her again, and again, and again.
“it’s okay bil.” i whispered.
she quickly pushed me down on the sofa so she was hovering above me, this led to more kisses, which resulted in us making out. her hands were roaming all over my body whilst mine we’re cupping either side of her face. her fingers soon enough made their way under my pyjama bottoms and into my underwear.
she looked at me for permission. when i nodded i felt them run through my folds, gathering my wetness and spreading it over my clit, rubbing a little before two fingers pushed inside me, slightly stretching me out. she quickly found a steady pace which made me arch my back and press against her.
her fingers were curling in the perfect spot, causing me to whine and moan for her.
“please billie-“
“that’s it angel, use your words. doing so good for me.”
i moaned louder at her words, hands gripping her shirt, pulling her a little closer to me. my legs opened wider as i was getting closer to release.
“billie!” i gasped.
“i can tell how close you are baby. i can feel you clenching around my fingers. you’re so wet for me huh. and so perfect.”
and that’s all it took for me to cum all over her fingers. loud moans echoed through her house as her fingers slowed and she whispered sweet praises into my ear.
“there you go. good girl. so beautiful for me.”
i slightly whimpered and pulled her onto me as soon as she pulled her fingers out of me.
“can you go again for me love? i wanna see you cum again.”
i nodded and let her stand up off the sofa, helping me up with her so that she could take my shirt and bottoms off. she admired how wet my underwear was before pulling them off too. i was pushed back onto the sofa and watched as she stripped in front of me. her body looked so perfect, id never seen someone as beautiful as her. so i told her.
“you look so beautiful fuck. i need you.”
she smirked at me and lifted me up a little, moving me so that i was sat forward a bit. that’s when i noticed something in the boxers she was wearing. they were all she’d left on and i didn’t know how i didn’t see or feel the bulge sooner. when she pulled them down, her strap sprung out and my eyes widened.
“billie i don’t know about that.. it looks too big i’ve never had anything that big in me before.” i quietly spoke.
“you’re wet enough for it. i think you’ll be able to take it. if you really don’t want to though then we don’t have to and we can either try something else or stop and i’ll get you cleaned up baby.”
“i want to try it bil. please.” i was so needy at that point.
that was all she needed to hear for her to carefully push the tip inside me, letting me get used to it before slowly pushing it in bit by bit. she soon enough had the whole length inside me and just stayed like that until i told her she could move. once she began moving, the loudest moans toppled out of my mouth no matter how silent i tried to stay.
as she was thrusting deep into me, her hands were running up my stomach, all the way up until they were resting on my tits. she gave them a small squeeze and then moved back to hold onto my waist.
“you look so gorgeous like this. such a mess for me yet you’re still taking me so well.” she whispered, that small smirk still showing.
my walls tightened around her, hands gripping her arms. she could feel how tight i was as it was a slight bit more difficult to push inside me.
“can i cum billie?” i whined loud, trying to hold onto the feeling.
“cum for me angel.”
i definitely moaned way too loud when i heard those words and came everywhere. i was practically screaming for her as she slowed her thrusts and ran her hands up and down my stomach to calm me down. she stayed inside of me whilst i settled down, she waited until i was ready.
when she eventually pulled out, i felt her placing gentle kisses on my lips and whispering in between them.
“one more for me baby. can you go once more for me? then if you want we can have a nice warm bath and i’ll get you all cleaned up.”
i nodded and kissed her again. i needed her all over me. she dragged me to stand up off the sofa and moved me over to the window. that window i wanted her to push me against.
“i know you wanted this. seen the way you stare at it when you come in and then you get lost in your own world daydreaming about me huh?”
i nodded and felt her gently push me forward so that my tits we’re pressed against the glass and my back was slightly arched. within a few seconds, she was kneeled on the floor, eating me out as if she’d never get to do this again.
my breath fogged the glass while i whined and bucked my hips against her mouth. i really didn’t last long. within a few minutes, i came all over her face and slid down the window a little until she moved away and i collapsed on the floor. soon enough, she crouched down and turned me around in her arms.
“there you go love, you did really well for me. you’ve made me really proud.” she smiled, lifting me into her arms and carrying me up to her room and laying me on the bed whilst she ran a bath for me and got some fresh clothes out.
i was almost asleep when she moved my hair from my face then took me to the bathroom, carefully placing me in the bath and kissing the top of my head.
“can you get in with me please?” i mumbled, half asleep.
“of course.” she slowly got in behind me and began to wash my hair for me and helped me wash the rest of my body before we just rested there for a bit. i ended up falling asleep against her at one point. what felt like a few seconds later, i was being gently lifted out of the bath and was placed back on the bed with a fluffy towel wrapped around me.
i groaned and opened my eyes, causing her to look over at me as she finished putting some clothes on.
“hey angel. let’s get some clothes on you and then we can sleep, okay?”
i just nodded and got myself dressed before we clambered into her bed and were soon enough asleep next to eachother.
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iichfilwypj · 1 day ago
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but daddy, i love him! | percy jackson
ღ book! percy jackson x daughter of zeus! reader ღ warnings: pregnancy mention, sex implications :) i did this long ago so it sucks! ღ wc: 825
Sitting at the table and staring intently at the wood, she was still trying to adjust her dress so it wouldn’t slip over her shoulders, having not gotten the chance to fasten it properly. 
Just seconds ago, she couldn’t think about anything other than the feeling of his body close to hers, their lips pressed together and the heat of the room; now, she could only think about how to prevent her father from throwing a lightning bolt at Percy.
Next to her, Percy looked just as uneasy; he fidgeted nervously as her father gripped about how irresponsible and foolish they’d been. His eyes kept darting to the floor, to the walls, anywhere but at Zeus, who was ranting furiously. 
“Do you even know what you’re doing? For Gods’ sake, you’re so young! You could get… you know what!”
Zeus paced back and forth across the room, his eyes darting around like a predator circling its prey as his hands were planted on his hips. She turned to Percy, rolling her eyes with an exaggerated flair, and then bit her lip, exhausted by the endless cycle of this conversation. 
It was always the same, for God’s sake. She had heard it a thousand times: his disapproval, his anger, his worry. Nothing was ever different, and somehow, it always ended the same way.
“Seriously, you don’t want to have…” He paused for a second to point at Percy, his look of disgust so exaggerated that the boy couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “…his kids.”
“And what if I do? What if I do want to have his kids?” She fired back without hesitation, her words cutting through the heated atmosphere like a blade. "What if I am having his babies?”
The room was so quiet now that the sound of a pin dropping would have been deafening.
Percy looked horrified, his wide eyes locked on her as he tapped her leg anxiously, trying to process what she had just said. Not that he wasn’t flattered; honestly, in his far-off, very far-off, future plans, having kids with her was definitely on the list. 
But this? Oh, no. This was how he was going to die. Zeus would absolutely kill him with his bare hands, no question about it.
She barely held in her laugh as her father’s face turned crimson. His jaw dropped, his lips parted into a grimace of pure disgust, and his eyebrows arched in an almost comical way.
She quickly covered her face with her hand to keep from bursting out laughing. “No, I’m not, but you should’ve seen your face!”
But Zeus was already consumed by rage. As thunder growled like an angry beast in the sky and the rain began to pour, he stormed toward the door, his anger crackling in the air around him. Without a second thought, he yanked the door open with a violent motion.
He pointed at Percy, who quickly jumped to his feet to explain himself. “Sir, I-”
“Get out of my house, now! I told her it was a bad idea, but no, she insisted on being with you! Stay away from her!” 
And he had no choice but to leave, like a stray dog being kicked to the streets. 
She felt torn, unsure of what to do next. Disobeying her father was the last thing she wanted,  but her heart was telling her to run after Percy. Zeus’s endless ranting grew louder, but they only became more distant.
Percy loved her, and she loved him –what else mattered?
Through the window, she saw Percy approach the gates, his body language defeated, head hanging low as he opened the small door. Her chest tightened as she  turned back to her father, offering a brief sideways smile, as if to apologize for what she was about to do.
Under his glare, she stood up from her chair, defying him.
“I'm sorry, daddy. I love him!”
“¡Don't even think-!” 
But she was already sprinting toward the open door, running outside and disregarding the shouting.
The rain struck her nearly naked body, her unbuttoned dress almost slipping from her shoulders, and her hair becoming drenched. She cried out his name, hoping he’d turn and notice her.
And he did, of course. 
He turned with a smile, one that had been on his face since he left the house; it was obvious, they had already talked about what to do if this situation came up. Standing with arms crossed was not an option.
Their bodies collided, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her through the air. 
“What took you too long?” He said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 
“Sorry, just a little problem.” She replied, her tone light, her smile wide, feeling like nothing else in the world mattered except this moment between them.
Her father’s angry shouts, filled with condemnation and disbelief, rang in her ears as he yelled that they were out of their minds and that nothing they were doing could be accepted. But none of it mattered anymore. 
As they shared a kiss, sweet and drenched by the rain, everything else faded away. 
Yes, maybe they were crazy. But it was for love.
HI SORRY i have some heavy homework because i only have one week of school left!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! fiesta fiesta y si alguien tiene ideas para el remerón AYUDA NO SÉ QUE HACER!
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lionizingheathen · 3 days ago
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Let it be me - H.G.
Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader
Eating your best friend Hermione out for the first time.
Warnings: Smut, fluff, oral sex, fingering, nipple play
Smut under cut
Being best friends with someone as gorgeous as Hermione Granger was not for the weak, it’d turned you into a fucking freak, all you could think about was getting on your knees and spreading her thighs, hearing her whimper as she tugged on your hair… These fantasies were fine in your bedroom where you could simply get yourself off, but you were in her living room, there was nowhere to go…
And she was sitting with her legs open in the cutest sleep shorts you’d ever seen in your life, and all you could think of was pulling them off her hips and burying your tongue deep inside you.  You clenched your fingers on your pants, clearing your throat.
You couldn’t stand it anymore.
"Hermione." You asked, looking over at her as a slight smile twitched on her lips, her eyebrow flitting up… Fuck, there was something so sexy about the way that she just existed, it made you want her in the filthiest ways possible, as wrong as it really was. She was your best friend, if you had any tact or patience left, you’d probably abandon ship right now… But you didn’t have an ounce left.
"Y/N." She said, still not looking up from her book. You licked your lips, swallowing on a dry throat as you shifted closer, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear as your heart pounded in your chest, begging you to give up.
But you couldn't.
“Could I eat you out?” You asked, watching as Hermione's eyes widened, her book falling from her hands as she looked over at you, shocked. God, you wanted to back pedal so hard, but you were too far gone already, it was now or never
Hopefully it wouldn't ruin your friendship, that would destroy you.
“Huh?” Her voice was high and nervous as she said that, making you laugh as you leaned a little closer, noticing that she seemed intrigued, which was a good sign.
“I… Really don’t think I slipped up my words, I think I just asked if I could eat you out.” You traced a finger down her cheek before she brought a hand up to cover yours, looking over at you nervously.
“Do you want to?” She asked, and you nodded quickly.
Obviously, you wouldn't have asked if you didn't want to.
“Fuck yes.” You leaned closer, pressing a kiss below her ear before you spoke into it, noting how her breath caught in her throat. “I’ve been wondering how you taste all fucking night.” She pushed your face away, shaking her head as she did.
Shit. You were ready to take it all back, but then you noticed the little bit of a smile on her face.
“Did someone slip you veritaserum?” Hermione asked, sounding breathless as you chuckled, shaking your head, your hand sliding on her thigh... You weren't sure who would be slipping you veritaserum in her living room, but you could humor her.
“No, I’m just trying to be bold because the nice, slow approach wasn’t getting me anywhere.” You stopped your fingers just shy of her cunt, looking at her for any sort of indication. “Can I?” You asked and she sighed, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her thighs.
You withdrew your hand, not wanting to overstep a boundary, but she was quick to grab your wrist and put it back, looking at you with a nervous expression.
“No one’s ever… Done that with me before.” Oh. “I mean, I haven’t let anyone, I’ve had people ask but I always got nervous.” She said, and you nodded, resting your forehead on her upper back as you traced patters on her upper thigh.
You didn't care if no one else ever had, you just wanted to know if you could be the first.
“Listen, if you’re not comfortable then I won’t push, but if you want it and you’re okay with it being me, I’d love to be the first face you’ve ever cum on.” You said, smiling at the way that she whimpered, covering her face with her hands before she bent fully over again, seeming both embarrassed and a little turned on.
A little turned on was what you were hoping for... You didn't wanna freak her out.
“Merlin, that makes me sound lame… I’m thirty and I’ve never had anyone go down on me.” She said, her voice muffled by her hands, but all you did was shrug.
Sex wasn't a race; everyone could go at their own pace.
“So?”  You lifted her head, placing a hand on her cheek as you stared into her deep brown eyes, your heart catching in your chest... All of the good things in the world were behind those eyes, you were sure of it. “You’re also high ranking in the Ministry… You’ve had other priorities, that’s okay.”  She smiled, pressing her face into your hand as you cleared your throat... Okay... Okay, you could do this. “But I can also catch you up on that milestone right now, if you want.” You offered, and for a terrifying moment, she said nothing and then she looked away from you, neither of those being the things that you were hoping for.
“I…”  Her mouth opened and closed before she cleared her throat, looking at you nervously, her leg bouncing. “What if I taste weird?” You chuckled, shaking your head. If she did, that was no big deal, but you had pretty good faith that she was going to taste as good as she looked.
“You won’t.” You said, and she grimaced, shaking her head, clearly too lost in her own thoughts to listen to you.
“What if I do?” You gripped her chin, making her look you in the eyes, noting how she gasped and how her vision trained down on your lips.
Cute.
“You won’t.” You let out a shaky sigh, cupping her face once more. “Please, Hermione…” You slid down to your knees in front of her, never breaking eye contact as her eyes widened. “Please.” She bit back a moan, shaking her head as if she was in a trance before she looked up at the ceiling, puffing out her cheeks.
Just go for it, baby.
“Fuck… You… Look really good on your knees I never needed to know just how good you look on your knees…” Hermione gasped, and you chuckled, spreading her legs a little bit so that you could come between them, slipping your hands up her stomach, bunching her shirt up a bit as you rested your chin against her upper stomach.
“I’m begging you, Hermione.”  You pressed a kiss there. “Please.” She gasped heavily before nodding.
Fuck yes.
"Okay… Fine, okay.” You leaned up, pressing a kiss to her lips, swallowing her gasp as she tugged lightly at your hair, legs closing around you instinctually. “Mmm…” You pulled back, grinning at her.
"Figured starting with a kiss would be good-.”  She had a determined look as she pulled you in again, slipping her tongue between your lips, making you shiver. “Mmm…” You kissed down the side of her neck, hands slipping under her top to cup her breasts so that you could tug at her nipples harshly, feeling something in you release.
This was heavenly.
"Ha… Ohmygod… Fuck… Take my top off.” She gasped, and you nodded, pulling back to pull her top over her head, your mouth dropping open at the smooth, dark skin that was slowly exposed. You stared at her breasts, squeezing them in your hands, rolling her nipples between your fingers as you squirmed.
You wanted her forever.
"Jesus Christ…” You mumbled, and Hermione cleared her throat, looking away from you, clearly embarrassed.
“Stop staring.” You shook your head.
How the fuck were you supposed to look away from someone who was the definition of beauty.
“I can’t help it… I’m in awe of you.” You said, and Hermione shook her head, frowning.
"Stop..." You bent down, pulling a nipple between your teeth as she gasped, high and needy.
"No." You mumbled against her skin, your hands travelling lower to shuck her pajama shorts off. "I won't." You said firmly, pulling back to nudge her thighs open, your breath catching in your throat.
She was so wet, needy, and spread out for you.
"Fuck..." She whined, making you look her in the eyes... She was desperate, needy... Shy.
You sighed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips.
"You're so wet." You pulled back, looking down as you did... You just couldn't take your eyes away from her. "Already so wet." You mumbled, tracing your fingers over her cunt, watching as they came away glistening even though you hardly even touched her...
Shit, this was gonna be so fucking good.
"Always am around you." Hermione mumbled, and you smirked, raising an eyebrow as you looked away from her cunt and back to her face.
"Is that so?" You asked, and she rolled her eyes, pushing your face away as your hand inched lower.
You wanted to be inside her.
"Get that look off your face, come on... Oh.... Fuck..." Hermione gasped, and you looked down, your own mouth dropping open when you realized that she'd taken your fingers so quickly that you'd hardly even been able to process it... She was so warm.
And so fucking wet. You slid your fingers out of her before slamming them back in, loving the gasp that came from her and the wet sound it made with each thrust.
This was heaven.
"Sorry, couldn't resist... You took my fingers like they were nothing." You breathed, ghosting a kiss over her lips as she whimpered, cupping your face to give you a serious look.
"Curl them." She said, and you furrowed your brows... You were almost sure that she meant for you to curl your fingers, but your brain was working at like... Maybe half of its normal power right now.
"Huh?"
"Curl them... And use your damn tongue." She groaned, her head hanging back on the couch as she spread her legs further, bringing her free hand behind your head to push your face between them, making you gasp into her cunt, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, the taste.
"Mmmph..." You groaned, sliding your tongue over her as you sighed, looping your free arm around her lower back as you nodded, curling your fingers deep inside of her, hearing her whimper as she ground on your face, a heavenly feeling that you were sure that no one would ever be able to replicate. "Taste so good." You mumbled, hearing Hermione let out a high whine.
"Holy fuck... Yes, yes just like that, please."
"So polite-." She tugged your hair hard, pulling you back in in the sexiest most non-Hermione way possible.
"Don't fucking stop." She groaned, which wasn't something that you needed to be told - you never wanted to stop anyway, there was no way that you'd just pull away with no reason.
"Mhm." She ground her hips against your face quicker, allowing you to bury your face in her cunt.
Fucking hell.
"So good, so fucking good... Better than... I ever... Fucking imagined." Hermione whined, and you smirked against her cunt, your ego soaring at the realization that Hermione had imagined you like this before... Part of you wanted to tease her, to ask exactly what she'd imagined, but you didn't want to stop right now, you were loving this too much.
"Ha." You groaned, lapping up her cunt as you curled deep inside her, feeling how she squeezed around you.
Good girl.
"Y/N..." Her voice was wrecked, sounding like she was moments away from cumming... Cum for me, cum for me... Please cum for me.
"'M cumming! Fuck, I'm cumming, oh my god..." She whined, grinding against your face as you let out a groan of relief, rubbing your thighs together to ease the burn there... You wanted to focus on her, not on your own arousal, overpowering as it was.
"Mmmm..." You kept going, desperate to feel her cum again as she whined, high and desperate, trying to run from your touch.
No. Don't. Don't run.
"Y/N, baby... Baby, I just... I'm so..." Her back arched as she scratched at your scalp, shuddering her way through another sudden orgasm. "Fuck!" You moaned heavily, pulling your fingers out of her so that you could pull her closer, not wanting to be done with her yet...
But she batted you away before you could.
"No more..." She mumbled, and you nodded, pulling back quickly as you looked up at her, seeing her chest rising and falling rapidly... Fuck, that'd been...
Well, it'd been amazing to you.
"How was that?" You asked, and she let out a lazy chuckle.
"Are you joking?" She mumbled, sounding exhausted in a way that made your heart swell with pride, but you didn't want to be premature - you wanted to make sure that you should really be proud right now.
Premature celebration would be a bit embarrassing.
"No. I wanna know." You said, wiping your mouth off carefully as you traced on her legs, trying to keep yourself calm. She uncovered her eyes, leaning forward a bit as she spoke, still looking dazed.
"That was the best sex I've ever had in my entire life." Hermione gasped, a large smile on her face as you kissed over her thighs, gently pulling her to your chest once you were seated beside her again, watching as she flicked her wand to bring a blanket over to the two of you, settling it over your entwined bodies.
"Good." She was quiet for a moment, pensive before she looked back up at you.
"Next time, you should let me get you off." Hermione said, and you raised an eyebrow.
Oh?
"Next time?" You asked and she snorted, nodding like that was a given.
"Obviously." She cupped your cheek, kissing you slowly before she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours. "I'm too smart to let you get away." She murmured and you grinned, nodding.
You weren't trying to leave.
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uravitypng · 20 hours ago
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previous
soulmate hanta who is completely oblivious that it's almost shocking. the way you skirt around the subject of soulmates whenever someone brings it up, while nervous and looking everywhere that isn't in his direction.
you think you've been careful, you think you've tried to not put hanta in a difficult position and people do let the topic go when you try to avoid it. they don't think your soulmate is hanta but they know something is up.
hanta doesn't. for someone who spends all his time with you, thinks about you all the time, and always pays attention to the little things you do he doesn't notice something is up about the topic of soulmates. you act like he acts around the subject so it doesn't weigh on his mind at all.
soulmate hanta used to get asked a lot about his soulmate. denki whining about how he hasn't found his soulmate yet. "i know they're out there somewhere! it just sucks that i haven't found them yet! aren't you in the same boat? loads of people have already found their soulmates or are uploading pictures online trying to find them! there's a whole reddit page dedicated to it, it's so frustrating."
"i don't care about my soulmate," he responded flatly and kaminari looks at him like he's grown two heads.
one day in your second year of ua iida and hatsume walk around campus stuck together, glued to the hip. it seemed super out of character for him. he didn't even tell anyone he found his soulmate, not until the following week where asai asked about why he was spending so much time together with her. hanta regrets being in the room when that happens. "she's my soulmate."
"what?" midoriya looks so excited for him. "so many people have found their soulmate now! there's not many people that haven't, i'm so happy for you iida. speaking of soulmates how are you and uraraka tsu? you found each other before i found todoroki and before most people found there soulmate."
he drowns out her answer but when hearing his name he's back to paying attention, that is, before hearing the full question and wishing he was anywhere else. "sero you still haven't found your soulmate right? i'm sure you will soon."
"thanks midoriya but i'm not interested in meeting my soulmate." his phone is face up on the table, it beeps and he sees a text from you, his whole face lights up. they all see your name flash on his phone, a photo of you and him on his background, they never bring up his soulmate again.
in your third year of ua mina comes bounding into the dorm shouting about how she's found her soulmate. "i've never even really spoken to yui before but i've always thought she was pretty and her quirk is so cool! sero have you posted a photo of your mark online? you never know if someone will come across it and it'll be you introducing yourself or they'll recognise their handwriting."
"even if i did find my soulmate it wouldn't matter." she's about to ask what you mean but you walk into the room, his eyes trail yours with fondness she's never seen in his before and drops the subject.
people don't ask him questions anymore. he doesn't care about his soulmate because he has you.
soulmate hanta who, even though he doesn't get asked about by his friends anymore, still has to see online articles and speculation from fans all over social media. 'have the famous ua alumni war heroes found their soulmates?' 'i'm still holding out hope that me and cellaphane are soulmates !!!!' 'cellaphane and froppy spotted together out of their hero suits.'
after reading the headline, 'PROOF that reveals pro hero cellaphane's soulmate,' he made sure to never enter that restaurant in the thumbnail with you again. the whole article is full of photos taken by fans and paparazzi of the two of you. there's a lot of them but it makes sense to him with how much time you spend together. there's more regular photos like you two on patrol or walking down carpets together on your way into the entrances to a gala and some not so regular ones that fans have taken without either of your knowledge or consent but that's one of the cons about being a hero.
there's a photo taken at the cinema when you went to see the new studio ghibli film the boy and and the heron. you can tell it's the two of you even though it's dark, his elbows and your hair gives it away. you're leaning against him and sharing popcorn, his arm resting on the armrest.
there's a photo of his tape wrapped around your hand, while you're both grinning, it was christmastime and you were shopping, you couldn't find any tape so he said he'd give you some of his.
there's a blurry photo taken of the two of you in a small cafe, it looks like it was taken in a hurry. you and hanta are sitting across from each other at a table and you've got your mouth open, hanta's leaning forward with a fork, going to feed you some of his food.
there's dozens of photos and it just makes him want to be more careful when going out in public with disguises.
'PROOF that reveals pro hero cellaphane's soulmate.' hanta wishes that was true.
he looked at the first comment but clicked off when it was someone talking about how you're 'couple goals,' the amount of likes on that comment was astonishingly high for two words.
soulmate hanta doesn't care if people see his soulmate mark, he doesn't even think about so when he lifts up his jumper and his shirt lifts up as well during games night bakugou scowls.
he doesn't remember random words and sentences his friends said to each other nearly a decade ago now. but this. he knows this. on hanta's hip, in your handwriting, is his soulmate mark.
bakugou knows your writing well, he made you study. he'd put a timer on his phone and you'd sit together studying until the timer ran out, he'd talk you through anything you didn't know and understand. he'd snatch your paper out of your hand after it got graded and read everything you wrote. bakugou is one of the reasons you passed your classes, he's probably the only reason you passed your classes. that's why he knows that's your handwriting and seeing that it's your handwriting just pisses him off.
'why the hell is soy sauce face always looking at her like that if she's his soulmate and they're destined together.'
someone else could think that they're together but just haven't announced it to the public but bakugou knows that isn't true. he knows you're single, he's a hundred percent sure you are. it's true that something is definitely up about your soulmate situation and now he's got a clue of what that might be but whenever he makes a comment about how being single is good for his career because he can focus more on being number one you agree with the same sentiment.
'does that mean she rejected him? i don't know about that. would someone spend that much time with someone they rejected? what if they never realised. no that doesn't seem possible.'
"yo bakugou, you good? you're just kind of staring at sero with daggers in your eyes." kirishima asks noticing that bakugou hasn't taken his off of sero for awhile.
bakugou is straightforward, he's honest, he speaks his mind, he cares about his friend even if the public doesn't understand that. he gives his friends nicknames that people don't understand, even though he's the number one hero he still get's backlash for that. even with the backlash the nicknames stay the same, his first two friends at ua still get called 'shitty hair' and 'shitty women', he still calls denki 'dunce face', jirou 'ears' but he cares about them all.
all that caring is amplified when it's comes to you and you're involved, he's protective of you- emotionally. ever since he's met you you've been competing on who's better, you're the number ten hero always saying that you'll take his place soon, he knows you can handle yourself but when it comes to emotion- he worries. without him would you be friends with all the people you are now? you were worse at making connections with people than bakugou was and that's saying something, all because you were so quiet and worried about your soulmate situation.
he knows there's speculation that you're his soulmate but you both ignore it, he doesn't love you, at least romantically. it's definitely an emotion he can't put his finger on though, he guesses it's likely brotherly love but he's an only child so he can't be sure about that.
"why the hell do you act all lovesick all the time when your soulmate is spending everyday with you?"
hanta's mind goes blank. what the hell is he talking about? "huh, i- what?"
bakugou tuts, 'why is he acting like he doesn't know?' "i'm not a fucking idiot. shitty women's handwriting is on your hip."
hanta's eyebrows furrow, "i think i'd know if one of my best friends was my soulmate bakugou. this isn't her writing."
"holy fuck, you are an idiot. i've spent enough time studying with her to know."
"you obviously didn't if you think that." hanta retorts. 'there's just no way that's her writing.' he hasn't actually seen your handwriting that much and certainly not in recent years. it's one of the things he hasn't committed to memory about you but he knows for a fact that's not your handwriting. 'wait was does my soulmate mark even say?' he doesn't remember, he hasn't properly looked at it for so long now.
hanta lifts up his top again to read what it says, tilting his head trying to read it upside down. bakugou answers his silent request knowing that he wouldn't have asked and tells him what is says.
"i don't remember hearing 'thanks sero, you were great too,' but... wait, that... that does look a bit like her handwriting." he stares at the mark, trying to think back.
"yeah, plain face that's because it is." bakugou crosses his arms and looks at him annoyed.
soulmate hanta thinks everything bakugou just said to him through. "hold up," hanta lets go of his top again letting it drop down and moves around the all the furniture to go into a back room. he's so glad this game night is taking place at his. he leaves without anymore explanation and starts rummaging around in his spare room where he keeps things from the past, from ua and before that.
in one of the cardboard boxes at the back is notes from you that he's kept. they weren't meaningful or particularly very sentimental but they were notes you passed him in class. you sat far away from each other and would do mad libs and hangman. he didn't focus on the way you wrote each singular letter at the time.
you'd give him notes that said things like '6 letters. clue: current annoyance' he was able to win that fairly easy. after winning, writing back 'is mineta a current annoyance if you're always annoyed at him?'
you'd pass back a note for him that read, 'write me back: celebrity name, colour, adjective, object, colour, emotion, animal! after class - if you can read the completed filled in sentence without laughing or smiling you get to choose the film for tonight' it was always hard for him not to laugh or smile, especially when he had to say things like "hawks always wanted an orange handsome dildo-" he couldn't keep it in and grinned after that, you ended up choosing the film.
hanta can't pinpoint the exact moment he started to crumple up the paper, holding it tightly in his hand. he's figured it out, that's your handwriting! he clutches onto his shirt and takes deep breathes. he has to tell you! you have to know! you're meant to be together the proof is right in front of him, the proof is forever marked into his skin. it'll be a shock to you and he knows it's probably not the best to spring it on you but you have to know.
leaving all the notes scattered across the floor he quickly gets up to talk to everyone. "bakugou's right!" bakugou rolls his eyes at that. "i-i can't believe she's actually my soulmate. i have to go."
"wait what, go where?" kirishima questions. kaminari overlaps him, at the same time congratulating him.
"she's not on duty tonight, i have to tell her!" no one really has a proper chance to respond before he's already left.
"should we leave?" kirishima looks around the room.
"nah, we've already opened our drinks and booted up the tv. we'll go later." kaminari picks up his beer.
soulmate hanta who rushes over to where you live, banging on the front door loudly. you wonder who's knocking at such an hour and so noisily at that. it's not abnormal for hanta to come by but he's with the guys tonight and he doesn't knock like this, he usually knocks the same pattern which he refers to as his own chime of a doorbell. you open the door and you're surprised to see hanta, looking at you... strangely? "oh, hanta! i wasn't expecting you. weren't you supposed to be hosting games night tonight? is everything okay?"
hanta doesn't answer the question and instead asks, "can i come in?" he says in a low voice and licks his lips, wetting them. your eyes quickly glance at the movement before looking back up at his almond eyes. you move to the side for him to come in and shut the door behind him. you don't think something's wrong, at least it doesn't look like something's wrong by the way he's looking at you and his posture. he's looking at you for a second before pacing around the room, you don't press him on anything you just stand where you are and wait for whatever he needs. he stops his pacing and turns back to you, the intense look in his eye almost makes you want to squirm out of embarrassment for being seen that much. "i need to tell you something."
"okay," you respond, prolonging the end of the word. you're confused.
"we're soulmate!" hanta almost shouts at you. with knitted eyebrows and a bewildered expression you repeat okay. "w-w-what do you mean okay?" didn't you just hear me?" hanta's in disbelief and he scans your face.
"i mean... i heard you but i don't know why you're telling me something we both know." you don't even have time to feel anything other than puzzled. this situation should be making you feel heavyhearted or heartbroken but instead it's just filled with questions of 'why is he bringing this up? we already know this.'
hanta splutters, "why are you acting like you already know this?"
your mind goes blank.
"what?" you whisper, your mouth is dry and your limbs feel heavy. ''why is he acting like this? he doesn't seem drunk or high. is he being controlled by someone? there's no way he'd be this cruel.' you open your mouth breathing softly and you're finding it hard to keep your breathing steady. "why are you being like this hanta? it's cruel." your voice is even quieter than it was.
hanta's eyes soften as he sees you and goes to reach out to you before stopping himself. "i'm not trying to be cruel, i'm just trying to understand what you're saying. i've just found out you're my soulmate and i needed you to know... but... but you're acting... you're saying that you already know. i don't understand why you've kept it a secret."
you blink slowly, trying to process everything hanta's just told you. "what do you mean that you just found out? i haven't kept anything a secret. i knew from the very beginning we met. you tripped over my bag and praised me after a practical lesson. did you really forget?"
soulmate hanta's eyes widen. "forget?! i didn't even know. you really think i'd forget the woman i've been in love with since i saw her is my soulmate."
you have questions but all you can focus on is, "you love me?" you ask- softly. shyly.
hanta goes bright red. "w-well yeah, of course i do." you giggle and he smiles affectionately at you, he loves hearing you laugh especially when he's the one getting you to do it.
"i love you too," you let him know sweetly.
hanta grins, "really?"
you hum and nod your head. "did you really not know?" hanta shakes his head. "how did you find out in the end though?"
hanta rubs the back of his neck and appears guilty as he responds, "oh, that... well, it was bakugou. he saw my mark and knew it was your writing."
you pout at him, "god, you didn't even realise yourself." hanta chuckles nervously. "what am i going to do with you hey? my oblivious soulmate." you wrap your arms around him and hug him, your face on his chest, gazing up to make eye contact.
soulmate hanta grins when he hears you call him your soulmate and reciprocates the hug, holding onto you and squeezing lightly for a second. "i can't imagine what it must of felt like for you, i'm sorry. all those wasted years we could of had together if only i connected the dots better. i promise i'll make it up to you."
there's plenty of time to talk about your feelings, to express to him how you felt rejected. there's your whole life for that but right now there's something better. "oh, how are you going to make it up to me?" you say teasingly and smirk.
hanta chuckles loudly and grins, "what do you have in mind?" one of his hands that was holding you sneaks in under your top. neither of you have ever done this before but soulmates are made for each other, you'll know each other's body better than you know your own because, at the end of the day, you're meant to be.
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hwonnrinji · 1 day ago
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hiii sooo can i req yoonchae x f!reader where katseye goes on their asia tour and while they’re in korea the girls find out that yoonchae has a gf and interrogate reader bc yoonchae is basically their daughter and they wanna make sure she’s in good hands!!
funny cuz yoonchae's literally my gf
"WHO ARE YOU?"
jeong yoonchae x fem!reader
{ synopsis } : while in korea for one their asia promo trip, yoonchae randomly goes out, coming up with random excuses as to why she is. the kats gets suspicious but ultimately concluded it was messing around with friends. until one night, they see her with a random girl in front of a convenience store.
{ tags/extra } : fluff, secret relationship, established relationship, yoonchae is a flirt, reader is korean for the plot, pacing is iffy i apologize
{ a/n } : yall alr know this is sooo rushed cuz i delayed the publishing of this by a lot 😭 plus tumblr didn't save it 😒
now playing : pink by wave to earth
@lararajjj @ohmyhaely @ninguitar
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"SHE'S BEEN ACTING WEIRD LATELY," megan says out of the blue, confusing the members for a moment. manon glances at the television, seeing nothing playing on the screen, then looked around at the rest of the girls.
"who?" she questions. she has an idea of who, but she won't admit it until everybody else brings it up. how is she so confident in this person? well, maybe it's because the person in question isn't even there with them. the youngest has been a bit distant lately, always having excuses about going out early in the morning and not coming back until late at night, sometimes even coming back the next day.
"you know who."
nobody dared to say anything else but it was hard to ignore the elephant in the room. sophia finally spoke first, the perks of being the closest to yoonchae finally being useful. "it's been a long while since she's back in korea. she told me she's hanging out with friends."
"i don't think friends keep each other out for the long," lara lazily voiced her opinion, not sparing any of them a glance as she's busy playing block blast. daniela clicked her tongue before reaching out and turning off lara's phone, which resulted in the younger letting out a loud 'hey!'
"uh, yes, they do. you should know since you're always dragging me to go out." megan rebutted. lara rolled her eyes and turned her phone back on, backing out of the conversation. daniela pondered some more, trying to figure out what to say before deciding to test the waters. she wanted to see how the girls would react to what she has to say.
"what if yoonchae's seeing someone?" she asks.
sophia immediately snapped her head to daniela, a mix of disbelief and annoyance on her face. "if yoonchae says she's out with friends, then she's out with friends. don't jump to conclusions." even so, there's a small part of her that is convinced the youngest might have a partner that neither her or the others know about. "plus, yoonchae never lies."
"right.. okay."
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yoonchae does, in fact, lie. she keeps secrets about a lot of things. like this, for example:
"hi, beautiful," she greets in korean as soon as you opened the door, leaning down to kiss the lips that she missed oh so dearly. "god, i missed seeing this eleven outta ten face."
"stop lying, you didn't miss me that much." as you hit her arm lightly, your scolding demeanor changed into one of giddy highschooler. yoonchae only chuckled before holding your waist to pull you closer, her fingers resting on the small of your back. your hands cradled her face, your thumb grazing the curve of her jaw.
"i'm telling the truth," she confessed. "i'd kill myself if i ever said i didn't miss my gorgeous girl."
"flattery sure gets you anywhere." you rolled your eyes, tiptoeing up to give her cheek a gentle peck. yoonchae swerved her head to the side, just enough to capture your lips in a slow, longing kiss. you swore you felt her fingers practically digging into your hips like she never wants to let go.
"i-" a kiss on your lips, "missed-" a kiss on your forehead, "you-" a kiss on your nose, "so-" a kiss on your left cheek, "much." and finally, a kiss on your right cheek. "like, a lot."
"oh shut up." you fully wrapped your arms around her shoulders to bury your red, flustered face into the crook of her neck. to say you also missed her was an understatement. you longed for the days you two would finally be physically together again instead of on facetime calls that get cut short because she has a busy schedule. and now that it's happening, you just wanna pinch yourself, convinced it's a dream.
after a few moments of comfortable silence that yoonchae let you have to collect your thoughts, she finally spoke up. "snack run?"
"of course."
it takes a while to get to the 7/11 despite it being only a three minute walk from your apartment. yoonchae was just so warm for the cool evening that you didn't want to pull away from the hug. but unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
~
"pringles or kimbap?" yoonchae asked, holding up the two options in your face. you already know she wants the kimbap, but you also know that there's a small part of her that wants the pringles.
"how about both? you want both of them right?"
"yeah... but–" you cut her off by taking both of the items and putting it into the basket with a proud smile on your face. you didn't give her time to protest, already making your way to the checkout. "y/n.."
"it's no big deal, baby. you can get whatever you want." you handed the cashier the money. "even if it's just snacks." yoonchae subtly pouted and wrapped her arms around your waist from the side, resting her head on your shoulder.
"you're so sweet," she mumbled. "i love you so much."
"mm, i love you more." you thanked the chasier as he handed you the change, stuffing it in your hoodie pocket. well, it wasn't yours, but nobody really cares. you held yoonchae's hand to go to tables outside, but she quickly stopped upon seeing the girls. she let go of your hand while you set some space between you two, making it seem like it was just a friendly snack run. "wait, your hoodie–"
"just keep it," she whispered.
soon enough, they all spotted yoonchae nervously standing next to you. sophia rushed over to yoonchae, asking why she's out so late before looking your way. you turned around and pretended you had no idea who they were. "do you know her?"
"uh, yeah. this is my friend, y/n." she nudged you with her elbow. "say hi to them."
"it's so awkward, yoon... i'm literally your girlfriend."
"yeah, but they don't know that." she gave a smug smile, grabbing your forearm and pulling you closer. "y/n is my really close friend. i've known her since elementary." her hand slipped from your arm and around your waist, squeezing your hips as a way of comforting you in this stressful situation.
"are you trying to make us public?" you jabbed her side, twisting your hand to make it extra painful.
"baby, if i had five seconds to say anything to the whole world, i'd most definitely shout that you're my girlfriend." she winked– which was horribly cute. you clicked your tongue in annoyance, ignoring the blush creeping up to your face. the girls watched the interaction with partially stunned looks. you two looked awfully a lot like a couple and it was concerning.
yoonchae sat you down on one of the chairs and began walking back to the store, claiming she's going to buy more snacks. you rushed to get up and follow her but lara got in front of you, her hands clasped together with a sickeningly sweet smile. "let's talk."
~
"when did you two start dating?" lara was the first to ask after moments of silence at the table. everybody was either too busy staring at you– ahem, sophia –or too busy eating the snacks you and yoonchae bought.
"better question, are you two dating?" sophia intervened. at least she was decent enough to ask. words bubbled in a throat but it refused to escape your mouth, so you only gave a weak nod. sophia nodded as well, more in understanding than anything else. lara and daniela high-fived each other while manon and megan groaned
"so.. can you answer my question then?" lara questioned. "with some background too?"
"we started dating in our second year of middle school," you began. "honestly, we had no idea what we were doing, but, y'know, she was soo in love with me." you chuckled at the last part, remembering how head over heels yoonchae was.
("wait, what's second year of middle school in korea?" megan whispered to manon, in which the older replied, "eighth grade")
"so you're saying yoonchae, possibly one of the most logical people ever, had no idea what she was doing?" sophia raised a seemingly interested eyebrow. before you answered, you took the pringles and kimbap, putting it on your lap for yoonchae to eat when she comes back.
"she was thinking with her heart, if i'm gonna be honest." you nervously laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. "her whole head was empty like her brain took a vacation."
"that has to be so funny," daniela sneered. "imagine yoonchae walking into a pole because she was too busy thinking of how pretty y/n is."
"what if that's why she did that when we were in new york," sophia commented, her stern demeanor finally cracking. yoonchae finally came back after an eternity with two full bags of snacks. she sets down a bag in front of you after giving the girls the other, plopping down on the seat next to you.
"you said you like pepero right?" after a full conversation in english, you were grateful yoonchae was here to switch back to korean. yoonchae rummaged through the bag, quickly finding the box of chocolate sticks and gave it to you.
"mhm. the chocolate one?"
"they just restocked on it."
"y'all are so cute." lara appeared between you both, the smile from earlier back on her face. you audibly gulped when she looked at you, your body sinking into the chair. "say, how much do you love yoonchae?"
"..." you stayed quiet for a minute which made yoonchae a little nervous. though, she has no reason to be. it was evident on how much you love her. "i think i'd go insane if she's more than five minutes away."
"that's such a basic answer." manon teased. sophia was looking at you expectantly. she wants to know if you're good enough for yoonchae (despite the fact you two have been dating possibly three years).
"she's the girl of my dreams. she fell first, but as always, i fell harder. every time i look at her i just get reminded of how lucky i am to have such an amazing girlfriend like her." your hand found its way to yoonchae, intertwining your fingers and pulling it up to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles. "i'd choose her over my own life."
through a series of 'aw's and 'how cute', all you were focused on was yoonchae and how her eyes gazed into yours, how her hand squeezed yours just a little tighter. most importantly, how pretty she looked just right underneath a street light. "you're so gorgeous, baby."
yoonchae suddenly stood up from her seat, the action startling everyone. she got down on one knee, and holding a singular pepero in her hand, she said, "i wanna marry you. be mrs. jeong."
"what?!" the girls, including you, all exclaimed in shock.
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daisymbin · 3 days ago
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26. "are you… blushing? because of me?"
jun getting an ego boost seeing reader blush. he feels more confident and starts flirting more using his actor charms 🤭
GRRR I LOVE THIS CONCEPT!!!!
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // jun's m.list
fluff prompt #26: "are you... blushing? because of me?"
the late afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting a golden glow over the trail. the sound of your footsteps crunching on the dirt path mingles with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. you’re halfway up the hill, the incline making your breathing slightly uneven, but the peaceful surroundings make it worth the effort.
beside you, jun walks effortlessly, his long strides relaxed. he glances at you every now and then, his smile growing with every step.
“you’re awfully quiet today,” he remarks, breaking the silence.
“just focusing,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the trail ahead.
“focusing?” he repeats, his tone teasing. “on what? not tripping?”
you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. “yes, actually. i’d like to make it to the top without embarrassing myself, thank you very much.”
jun laughs, the sound warm and light. “don’t worry, i’ve got you. if you fall, i’ll catch you.”
“how reassuring,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm, though your heart skips at the thought.
the trail narrows, and you instinctively step closer to him to avoid the edge. just as you’re about to steady yourself, your foot catches on a loose rock.
“oh!” you gasp, stumbling forward.
before you can hit the ground, jun’s hand shoots out, his fingers curling around your wrist. his other hand lands lightly on your shoulder, steadying you with surprising ease.
“gotcha,” he says, his voice low and smooth.
you blink up at him, your heart pounding—not from the near fall, but from how close he is. his face is only inches from yours, his dark eyes glinting with concern and just a hint of mischief.
“careful,” he murmurs, his grip on your wrist firm yet gentle. “i told you i’d catch you.”
“thanks,” you mumble, your voice barely audible as you step back, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.
he doesn’t let go immediately, his hand lingering on your wrist. “you okay?”
“yeah,” you say quickly, pulling away and looking anywhere but at him.
he watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips curl into a grin. “wait a second.”
“what?” you ask, your tone defensive.
he takes a step closer, tilting his head as he studies your face. “you’re blushing.”
your eyes widen. “i’m not.”
“oh, you definitely are,” he says, his grin widening. “your cheeks are all pink.”
“it’s the sun,” you reply quickly, turning your face away.
“the sun?” he echoes, his voice full of mock skepticism. “or is it…” he leans in slightly, lowering his voice, “are you..blushing? because of me?”
your stomach flips, and you take a step back. “don’t flatter yourself.”
“too late,” he says, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “you’re not denying it, though.”
“I think you're being impossible,” you mutter, brushing past him and continuing up the trail.
he follows, easily falling into step beside you. “so, it is because of me,” he says, his tone victorious. “i mean, i did just save you. maybe you’re swooning a little?”
you groan, covering your face with your hands. “stop.”
“what?” he asks innocently, though the smirk in his voice is obvious. “i’m just pointing out the facts.”
“the facts,” you repeat, your voice muffled by your hands.
“yeah,” he says, his confidence growing with every word. “like how cute you look when you’re flustered. and how your face is still red, by the way.”
you lower your hands, glaring at him. “you’re insufferable.”
“insufferable and charming,” he corrects, winking at you. “admit it. i’ve got you blushing like this without even trying.”
“you’re delusional,” you shoot back, though your cheeks betray you, still warm from the earlier moment.
he stops walking, turning to face you with a wide grin. “delusional? or just really, really good at making you nervous?”
you shake your head, trying to ignore the way your heart races under his gaze. “you’re so full of yourself.”
“maybe,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly. “but can you blame me? especially now that i know i can make you blush like that.”
“i hate you,” you mutter, though the smile tugging at your lips says otherwise.
“sure you do,” he says, stepping closer and leaning down just enough so his face is level with yours. “but if that’s true, why are you still blushing?”
you can’t find a good comeback, so you turn and start walking again.
he catches up easily, his laughter ringing out behind you. “this is fun,” he says, his voice light and teasing.
“don’t you dare say another word,” you warn, shooting him a glare over your shoulder.
“oh, i absolutely dare,” he replies, his grin somehow even more charming in the golden light of the setting sun.
and as much as you want to protest, a small part of you knows you wouldn’t mind if he did.
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livelaughloveluffy · 21 hours ago
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plus size reader who’s a herbalist and has some nurse training on the ship and helps make medicines so she acts as choppers assistant . zoro having a thing for her an getting tended by her for care after a battle while chopper patches up the others
tending wounds - roronoa zoro
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a/n: thank you so much for your request!! this was actually the perfect prompt to begin my new series!! so more fics like this will be coming soon!! (gotta take advantage of my small thanksgiving break the best i can 😭😭)
a/n: also it only made sense for me to write you all a little thanksgiving treat because i am very thankful for all the love and support i have gotten on my writing!!! 💗
nothing but fluff here 💗
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it had only been a couple of months since you first joined the straw hat crew, and you were still getting into the groove and adjusting to the other members. it was a little intimidating joining a group of such closely bonded people, and often times you had a hard time believing that you belonged and had a place in the crew. the only thing that you were sure of was your skill as an herbalist. always knowing the perfect blends, gardening techniques to grow quicker and fuller plants, and many other skills. it only made sense for you to become chopper's right hand and partner in crime in the doctor's office.
•♡•
zoro couldn't help but be drawn to you from the second you stepped aboard the ship. typically, he didn't have much interest in women, but you were different. your soft curves, gentle demeanor, and bright smile just seemed to scream for his attention.
his eyes followed you around the deck as you collected herbs from the shared garden on the sunny, preparing to help chopper prep some medicine for the upcoming battle. he couldn't help the faint blush that flooded to his cheeks as he noticed your small smile of content while tending to the plants in your section of the garden, the weights he was lifting completely forgotten about as he stood there utterly struck by your presence.
•♡•
while you did know that the if the straw hats are anything, they are extremely driven and put 110% of themselves into everything they do, the very first time they came back from a battle, you were slightly floored to see the true gravity of their injuries.
now, more than ever, did you put your all into your work. sitting with your pestle and mortar, diligently and quickly grinding away the soothing herbal concoction. you didn't notice how the hours had slipped by, nor the setting sun, as you sat hunched over your work table.
it wasn't until you were startled away from your work with chopper's surprised voice "you're still in here? you got so much done! we'll have more than enough medicine! go and take a break! i can handle the crew for now!"
•♡•
following the doctor's orders, you left the office in attempt to take a break from work. but when walking past the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice the door slightly ajar, and a green-haired swordsman standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting with his freshly applied bandages. you gently wrap your knuckles against the door, pushing it open more as his head turned to meet your eyes.
the swordsman suddenly found himself staring into eyes he'd recognize anywhere, comforted by the sound of your soft gentle voice as you asked "need some help? you look uncomfortable.."
•♡•
zoro had pulled you into the bathroom, grabbing the handle and closing the door behind you, faster than your brain could process. he couldn't help but close the distance between the two of you, blocking you between him and the door as your round cheeks grew to a bright and beautiful shade of pink. his low husky voice whispers into your ear "yeah, they're a bit tight. my wounds are still pretty sore too. might be bleeding through already.."
it took all your self control to focus on the man in front of you, his sharp gaze, attention solely on you, made you understandably flustered. your hand just barely hovering over his bandaged chest, gesturing for him to back up "let me take a look. can you sit up on the counter for me? there should be a first aid kit i stashed in here."
quickly busying yourself, grabbing the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, and examining its contents with slightly shaking hands. you willed yourself to look up at zoro again, something about the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. forcing yourself to remain immersed in tending his wounds, you did the only thing you knew to do to keep your mind preoccupied, talk through the medical process.
zoro, absorbed in the process of watching you work and seeing you in your element, patiently waited for you to get situated before hopping up onto the bathroom counter. he sat with his legs spread, giving you room to stand between them so you could be close enough to him to work with ease.
your sweet delicate voice sounded like music to the swordsman, even as you informed him you were going to remove his bandages. your soft hands, light and gentle, as they softly pried up his old bandages and slowly peeled them away from his gashes. he could feel your intent to not cause him pain in this process. the way your breath slowed, your body unintentionally leaning closer to him to inspect your hands as they worked, the floral fragrance of the herbs you worked with soaked into your skin and how only he could smell it in this closeness.
your voice cut through his haze of infatuation as you said "okay, since you still have quite a bit of fresh and dried blood, i'm going to have to clean it first before i apply the ointment. i'm sorry, this is going to sting a little bit." your hand now holding a lightly soapy damp cloth, you deftly run it over the open wound, careful to clean every inch of it. however, you immediately paused at the soft sound of a muffled groan from the swordsman, wide eyes looking up to meet his. it didn't go unnoticed by you how much zoro was trying to restraint his discomfort from you. "i know, i'm sorry zo'. if you want, you could squeeze my other hand.."
the words had barely left your mouth before his fingers were intertwined with yours. you took one last glance at the swordsman before returning to cleaning his wound. a soft squeeze could be felt from time to time, at the particularly deep parts of his wound. but as you worked, you could feel zoro's thumb slowly stroking your index finger.
"okay, now it's time to apply the ointment. we're almost done!" you could feel the man's eyes on you as you getting swiped your finger against the jar of ointment, gathering the material on your finger, ready to apply it to his wounds. your finger slowly and precisely traced over the jagged cuts of the gashes that covered his chest. with all of your attention diverted to the wounds, you failed to notice exactly how close you were to zoro until his other hand gently fell to you hip.
looking up at the swordsman with wide eyes and the cutest blush he'd ever seen, shock clearly written all over your face searching his for some sort of explanation. his husky voice cut through the silence of drowning in his eyes "my god, you're so fucking beautiful."
heat rushed to your cheeks and ears, tearing yourself away from the zoro's face, attempt to finish tending to his wound, your soft voice was barely above a whisper and if it weren't for the closeness, zoro wouldn't have been able to hear you say "i think that's the blood loss talking..."
•♡•
thankfully, he allowed you to finish the rest of your work in relative peace. his hands still very much on you, they now both sat on your hips, as you needed both hands to wrap him in fresh bandages. you did your best to avoid making eye contact, but that didn't stop zoro's gaze on you, which you could feel it hot and almost burning into your skin. it took everything you had to speak above a whisper to say "okay.. you're all patched up now.."
you attempted to step backwards, out from between his thighs, but his hands remained, gentle but firmly, on your hips. finally willing yourself to make eye contact with the man in front of you. zoro removed one of his hands from your hip, instead bringing it under your chin to keep your eyes on his. you saw the smallest hint of a smirk grow across the swordsman's lips as he said "thanks, gorgeous. i'm feeling a bit better already."
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tags ♡: @3v37773 @dindjarins1ut @thepotatocatto @irethepotato @dreamcastgirl99 @acesdiary; want to join the taglist? click here!
a/n: i am still very much sick with the flu; but slowly and surely getting better 😭😭😭 i was going to drag this out a bit longer but my head was really starting to hurt so that's my sign to be done and take some ibuprofen 😭😭😭😭😭
a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!
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takamor · 1 day ago
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whether he intended to or not (because, for someone so direct and transparent, there seems to be parts of him he doesn’t dare try to understand), nanami has become an expert on how to turn you into putty underneath him. from the way he delicately whispers your name in your ear as if you’re his favorite prayer to how gently his fingers trace all of the bumps and curves on your body, he always leaves you a love-drunk mess, a little high on him. his lips leave open mouthed kisses on all of his favorite parts of you—your neck, your chest, your thighs, your lower back, anywhere he can find traces of stardust swimming under your skin. his voice is always husky—never animalistic, but alarmingly human, as if he’s so struck by the fact that you’ve chosen him he’s afraid an octave higher will break this fantasy to painful shards.
long, graceful fingers expertly work you over and over until you’re a babbling mess underneath him, and he can’t help but push you just a little more because there’s something so addictive about how pretty you are when you’re lost in pleasure. how your body twists and heaves under his touch, shuddering at every little brush of skin and every honeyed word falling from the sweetest mouth. how your hands reach out to bring him closer despite him already being inside of you. “such a pretty thing,” he whispers into your hair. “you feel so good, honey, taking my fingers so well. just a little longer, okay? just sit on my face a little longer. i promise you’ll get my cock soon, i just want to taste you more.” and it should be outright sinful how your thighs hug the sides of his head so well, how your pussy drips its arousal on his face and the taste explodes on his tongue when he drags his tongue across your slit. it should be a blessing from the highest of heavens to hear you cry out his name, to feel your body shake around him as you reach your high once again. his head is spinning and his cock is aching, but he just wants to make you feel so good you can’t possibly think about anything else except him.
and once nanami does finally sink his cock inside of you, he’s leaving the gentlest of kisses anywhere his lips can reach—your collarbone, your forehead, your eyelids, your shoulders, anywhere he can get drunk off of you. he can feel the way your walls stretch to accommodate him, how your cunt struggles to suck him and throbs with anticipation, and he loudly groans into the side of your neck. “o-oh fuck, darling, ‘s so tight. you feel so good.” of course, he doesn’t miss how you clamp down onto him and that glazed over look your eyes get whenever his praise reaches your ears. strong, steady hips rock against yours with a tenderness you never thought to associate with a man of nanami’s size, but you’ve quickly learned that your lover is full of surprises. like when he wraps your legs around his slim waist so he can be as close to you as possible. or when he laces his fingers with yours and pins your hand above your head so he has easy access to plant wet kisses all over your chest. or when every kiss is met with praises of, “you’re taking me so well, honey, feels so good. such a pretty pussy stretching so nicely for me. i could stay like this forever.”
and when nanami cums, he insists you do it together. his thrusts are getting sloppier, your cunt is getting tighter, and he knows he needs to just push you over the edge the tiniest bit more. gathering some of your arousal that had splashed onto his thigh, he rubs your puffy clit with a determined digit, his lips kissing and sucking on your shoulder and overwhelming all of your senses. “cum for me, sweetheart, let go on my cock, please. wanna make you feel so, so good.” and he’s so dizzy on all of your moans and pleas, so drunk on the way your hands clutch on to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you grounded, he can’t help but allow himself to cum with you, cock throbbing as he paints your walls white. “there you go, darling, you’re doing so well for me. so, so fucking well. so fucking good for me.”
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grapejuicestyless · 2 days ago
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What If I Don’t Know?
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summery: In an alternate universe where the pogues gave up the hunt after their win with El Dorado, Y/n breaks free of the island dream and runs off the college. Only to find that maybe, being away isn’t what she wanted after all.
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My boots danced across the thick yellow lines on the deep black pavement. The traffic lights were flickering yellow, reflecting off of the void and rippling across the building puddles by the clogged sewer drains. An intersection at midnight, no dead stop and no definite go. Just the trust that the other cars wouldn’t blow past the warning signs. The trust that metal was made to bend, to rupture to save a life.
I didn’t have a car, I couldn’t afford one, and I never needed one. Everything I ever wanted was always just a few steps away. Laughter used to echo through the halls and cold rings hit the doors repeatedly. You grow used to people that way. Used to the sound of their footsteps, of their breath. You know who’s on the other side of the door always when you memorize the pattern of their movement.
JJ promised me once that we’d make one. We would run our way down to the junkyard and pick out old parts of cars and Frankenstein them together into a piece of shit that would run like a dream.
That was something I missed. The smell of gasoline. Maybe that’s why I stumbled down through the college town, balancing between the thin stripe of black between yellow and twirling in the center where road met road. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. The image of JJ bent under the hood of a truck. The same Ford that sat broken in the front yard for years, the sound of metal twisting and the breathy grunts with each violent twist of the wrench. It would run like new one day, he swore. I never doubted him, and I still don’t. One day, we’ll run down to that junkyard, a graveyard for cars, and we’ll find that missing piece.
Rain dripped from the bridge of my nose, falling on my soaked shoes and flattening out my fuzzy socks. Everything up North was colder. Maybe it was because of how bitter people were. The semi-warm summers and the sweltering months of autumn, only for the two week beach bliss to be swiftly replaced with a harsh winter that didn’t let up until the next summer. Cold nipped at my nose. I felt bitter the longer I was here, which was weird because when I was sixteen, I could have sworn this place was home.
Then again, I had never really been anywhere long enough to know what home really was. Everywhere I went became rushed by the sweet adventure that was chasing riches. Maybe it was the idea of settling down that intrigued me. To be sat in one place for a while and to slow down, to increase my chances of living through my twenties without some pirate knocking on my front door, a gun to my head. But this wasn’t home, this wasn’t settling. This was restlessness mixed with a deep urge to find something like home. An emptiness emotionally that I just couldn’t understand.
Like a dog chasing its own tail, I felt stupid, and I myst have looked drunk dancing among the silence of my college town. I should have been happy, this should have been home. I got out, I got what Kiara always dreamed of, I sought out a higher education, a dream that Pope had thrown away. My record was clean and my future had meaning. I should have been ecstatic to receive this opportunity, after all the grief and death and scandals of my childhood, a stage in my life that was stripped away by all the realities that unraveled with each new treasure found. But, I wasn’t. Even then, sick, dirty, and cold, I wasn’t happier than then now.
I don’t recognize myself in the mirror. In the dormitories, in the bathrooms, in the halls. It’s me, or, a version of that girl. She has my hair, and we share the same eyes, same curve of our lips too. But she’s hollowed out, gutted, and so indescribably not me. Different, not greater, but worse. I think of packing my bags quite often. Going quietly and without a fuss. To swallow my pride and withdraw my debt I would surely acquire if I stay any longer here at some institution I knew I couldn’t afford the moment I sent in my letter.
My roommate would be disappointed, but she’d move on. She doesn’t know me, she understands the concept of me, but she doesn’t know me. She’s nice enough, keeps her room clean, which inspires me to do the same. She brushes her hair regularly, almost obsessively, and is really pretty. We get along fine. We are friends, to a degree, but we are sure to find other roommates and never speak again. Still, I wonder if she would be mad if I left without telling her.
JJ was mad when I told him. He didn’t like the idea of abandonment. Though, I promised I would return in just a few months, and then a week after, and a few months later. It would feel like I am forever home, only with short intermissions where he gets to enjoy all the things that the island could offer with the others to hang off of his arm. He didn’t even indulge in that idea. He thought even an hour apart was too much.
I promised him it wasn’t abandonment, and swore to call him every night. I do. Sometimes I call him in the morning, and I almost always call him in the afternoon. I like to hear his voice. It sounds like home, it makes me feel warm. I forget about the redness of my nose and the tingling numbness in my fingers. He sounds like the waves crashing against the shore and the sound of wet spaghetti hitting the walls during dinners at midnight. He is laughter and the summer sun, the swells that ripple in mid July and the best seashells on the beach.
My knees bend beneath me, kneeling against the wet cement beneath me. I feel the wetness soaking through my jeans. It’s cold. Like it could be snow if it were a degree cooler. I kneel in the middle of the intersection, and I look up at the sky. It’s dark. I check my watch, it’s nearly morning again. The yellow light flickers against my skin, illuminating my face and leaving me in pitch black again. Everyone is sleeping in my college town. All is quiet.
My neck stretches out, upwards and I open my mouth. My tongue touches my chin, and I can taste the dirt in the droplets that swallow down my throat. My eyes are closed, because I have nothing to fear but loneliness itself, and whether my eyes are opened or closed, the feeling will still be there, and the fact will be too. I am alone, in this journey. I have nothing friends to lean on and no campfire to light. Nobody here knows about the existence of Kildare, of the marsh, and the restaurants that line the cut. They wouldn’t care, they don’t care about an environment they are not accustomed to. They only have so much space to consume what they need to know. To drink up their studies, they have no space for empty thoughts of a life they never lived.
I have my old phone in my pocket. The keypad is burned into the screen because it’s all I use it for now. My life revolves around nothing but the stress of failure and the relief of my best friend’s voice at the end of the day to ease my stress. The truth is, I understand the void in my passion now better than I did when it first appeared, the black hole that seemed to swallow up all my excitement for the new beginnings. I understand the bitter feelings I have for my new house, because I refuse to call this place home. Home is not a place you reside, though, familiarity breeds contempt, home is a connection to the people who reside in respect of you, who stand by you. So though the people I surround myself with here are perfectly friendly, they are not my friends, and they will never come close to the feeling of home I feel with them.
“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep. He has that rasp men get early in the morning, a rich deepness I rarely hear anymore, but something I once bathed in with his arms wrapped around me through the night.
Theres a soft rhythmic ticking that comes with the flickers of light, and the soft patters of rain drenching the pavement create solemn acoustics around me.
“Hey, JJ.” It comes out in one breath. A sigh of relief that he even heard the buzzing of his phone in his usual dead-to-the-world like sleep cycle. My fingers slip on my phone case and I have to catch it, the rustling on my end of the line echoing back through the speaks to me. I can hear the playback of my breathing through a short delay that spans over a vast distance.
“Is everything alright? It’s…three in the morning. I don’t know a lot about time zones but, I think we’re both on the east coast.”
“No, it’s the same time zone, Jay.” My cheeks already hurt with how big my smile was. He just had that effect on me. His goofy, unknowing attitude always managed to make me laugh, especially because deep down I knew he was a lot smarter than he led on to be. When he let that mask slip to reveal his true self, it was always a wonder the ideas that spewed from his lips. He had one of the greatest minds I’d ever known, only to be undermined by the tragedy of his last name.
“Is it a crime to miss my best friend?” My eyes found a home on my wet knees, and my free hand began to play around in the water. Dragging my nail through the small puddle forming around my body.
“At this time? Yes.” He chuckled softly. “Somethings up, what are you speculating? Whats the word? Ovulating? Because I can’t help you with that.” He made himself clear, smiling through his sentences.
“What? No! Why would I call you of all people if I was photo-ovulating?” I corrected myself with a laugh.
“Don’t knock it until you try it. I happen to be irresistible.” JJ defended himself with a teasing tone. Our conversation was light like it always was, even though my homesickness ran deep, and the sadness I felt was heavy, he made it feel like even the rain pouring down around the city I lived in was letting up.
“Lord knows John B’s walls are too thin for me to not have some kind of clue.” I snickered, pushing back the wet strands of hair that had fallen down upon my face.
Rain clung to me in every crevice, drenching me completely until I felt nothing but cold wash over me. It was a shower I didn’t need, one that did not cleanse me but instead poisoned me with the reminder that this was reality, I was miles away from the voice that was soothing my hearts ache momentarily. I would mull over it later.
“Nah, you got off on that shit.”
“Don’t be a pig, I’ll hang up.” I threatened half-heartedly. We both knew I never would. I could never cut the calls first, so the responsibility fell to JJ, who suffered the same inability to let go. Our calls usually stretched for hours, and the voicemails left in my inbox from the few times I would pass out with my cheek pressed firmly against some dusty book in the library took up all remaining storage in my phone. Right along side the folders of photos of us that collected by the thousands.
“So why’d you call?” He asked finally. I had no real answer. I used up all my excuses. Could he check for a sweater I left behind, the very same one I had on, or if he could just catch me up on what the others were up to. As if I didn’t call to hear all their stories daily, hourly if possible. What was I to tell him? What excuse could serve as something plausible without bearing a burden on his wide shoulders.
“You’re my best friend. I love you, I don’t need a reason.”
“You always have a reason.” He argued softly.
“Well, tonight I don’t.” I hummed. He hummed too, and silence filled the line.
The homely yellow flicked was accompanied by the blinding lights that came in pairs, growing brighter and wider with each passing second. Like a deer, I stood quickly, tall in my path but frozen in fear. I couldn’t meet the eyes of the man behind the wheel, recklessly racing across the intersection with no caution. Yellow meant slow, yet in the night, it only called for feet hitting the floor.
Puddles splashed violently, wheels screeching against the wet cement, leaving trails of where wet met soaked. I could see the distance between the wheels, I could lay my chest against the ground and measure it with my wingspan. The car swerved, laying down on the horn until the sound sputtered away into the distance, and nothing but the soft ticking of the lights and the sound of rain smacking the pavement filled the silence of the line again.
“Are you outside?” JJ asked finally. The sound of sheets crinkling and shuffling of legs against the mattress told me the loud alarm had stirred him from his relaxed state. I nodded at first, forgetting he couldn’t see me, and then I cleared my throat.
“I’m standing in an intersection.” I confessed quietly.
“Why?”
To clear my mind, to escape everything that was bothering me. To find peace with the silence, to try and find comfort in a home that wasn’t mine. There were a lot of minor reasons. The smell of gasoline was high on the list. I rationalized a lot of reasons in my head. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. Still, my gut wouldn’t settle.
I had left home to find something good for myself, to do myself the favor I always promised myself I would if I ever had the chance. But now, now that my feet had carried me to a place that was usually bustling with life, life that felt dull compared to even the most calm days on the island, I felt like I could never go back. A chance, a life, a future that I craved, I was throwing away because my feet refused to lift from the ground until I was sure I would only take my next steps home.
“I miss you.”
My answer was clear. It was true. I missed the waves, I missed the concrete roads freshly paved down in figure eight and how they met the old dirt roads of the cut. I missed John B’s chicken coop, though the chickens were long gone. I missed the dying tree carved with his name, and the rusted latch on the chateau’s porch door that left a yellow stain in the crinkles of my palm. But more than anything, I missed being no more than a breath away from JJ Maybank.
“Come pick me up?” I asked with uncertainty. Not because I even doubted for a moment that JJ wouldn’t come running to me if I even for a moment doubted where I stood, but because the morning was still young and tropical paradise was far away from the whistling winds of the North. Ferries only ran during certain hours, and money was hard to come by, even when we scrape together our pennies. Thats what happens when you drink up your success, you’re left with the repercussions. So, even if he did catch the boat, where would he get a ride from? How much more would it cost to bring the Twinkie alongside hime and ride it all the way to the hills where the colleges welcome signs were illuminated by colored lights, shining in school colors and pride.
He let out a stifled breath. He was choking on emotion I couldn’t read over the phone.
“I’ll be there, yeah.” He promised.
“Okay…I’ll go pack.” I said, suddenly and awkwardly. Yes, I dreamed of this day, kissing everything goodbye and running back to my roots, but now it was real. I could hear JJ slipping on his boots already. Why waste this chance?
“Pack?” He questioned.
“I’m leaving for good, Jay. I know I tell you that this is great and all, but I hate it here. This isn’t…this isn’t what I thought it would be. It’s not what I want.”
“So, you’re coming home?” He asks even though my answer has always been obvious.
“Yes.”
The line falls quiet again. I can hear the shuffling of his feet quickening against the rotting wood floors of the old Maybank property. A broken home flipped into something good. We share a bed there, I imagine he’s already grieving the loss of his starfish sleep position now that he’ll be bound to the same mattress as me again.
“I’ll be there soon.” The line falls dead.
Water splashes around me. If I wasn’t already soaked, I would be now. I can see why John B loved having a car so much now. The cold was fine at first when it was numbing, but now that I had feeling back in my chest, it was too much for me. My feet hit the pavement in harsh slapping movements, I pump my arms for some kind of friction against the wind. My lungs burn, they taste metallic. I want to wheeze and stop running, but I don’t think I could if I tried. I should feel embarrassed how quickly I up and left the place I was once stuck in, how I turned on my heels to run far away. But I’m not. I feel nothing, actually. Nothing but cold, determination, excitement. I have the energy of a child. I am an olympic runner, I have the right motivation. Get the fuck out of here, run myself right into JJ’s arms. I pray I don’t wake my roommate up when I reach my room.
The room is empty when I get there. I open the door so slowly, not even the rusted hinges make a sound. The carpet groans under my weight, even on my highest tip-toes. But the beds are empty and neatly made like they were left this morning. Rains pelts the windows. Theres a fan running. It’s my fan. I can’t sleep in the heat, not even in the winter. My bedding consists of borrowed blankets that I buried myself in, subconsciously trying to suffocate away the homesick feelings.
I barely had any clothes to pack, anything to throw into my duffle bag and my old backpack that was once Kiara’s. I never really got around to unpacking anyway, because there was so little to fill the bags I brought. Looking back on every decision I made before even stepping foot on campus, I should have known I would never stay. This was merely a vacation from hell. I don’t get the privilege to relax, I am worked and forced to prove myself over and over again among my peers who will never know me. I can’t wait to go somewhere where I am known again.
Somewhere along the way, I begin to collect up the posters on my walls. I rip them down hazardously, crumpling them and leaving them in the empty trashcan. It’s empty because there’s nothing I’ve touched in this room. Not the books, or the pens. I have a singular pencil up on my desk that’s much shorter than it once was, only half of its once lengthy size, and a nearly full set of flashcards. I don’t need the memory of this place to follow me. I consider it a favor to my roommate. To gift her with all the supplies she will ever need. She is nice enough, and a lot smarter than me. She’s sitting here on a full ride, though, the collar of her shirt says she could afford it without a penny. I convince myself she deserves it even though I do not know her.
I check my phone repeatedly, and I sit on the bench under the old overhang by my dorms. I stay out of the rain, I stay near the warmth and huddle up. I feel anxious waiting for him. It’s only been a few hours. I swept over the room for the few things I did want to keep. Like one of JJ’s bracelets, though it never even left my wrist. Or the soap I used in the shower. It was brand new, I had just bought a new one. I wait for his call. I wait for the familiar honking of the rusted horn. I wait, and wait as the sun rises. Time ticks by. I am impatient, I wasn’t bred this way, but good things have made me this way. I cannot wait.
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“Popes probably gonna kill me.” I mumbled softly.
The car was warm, but my hands still lingered with the outsides touch. I sat on that bench for hours waiting for him. I saw people rise from their beds and lean out the window, taking in the smell of the dewey morning. A few gave me puzzled glances. A drenched girl, dripping down on the bench, wetting everything she touched.
But then, he came. I could see the rusted van before he even put it in park. Just between the brick lined buildings and the paths decorated in dying shrubbery. There was a small gap between the campus lawn and the visitors parking lot. A small slice of the outside world creeping into the sheltered space that was college.
I ran. I ran faster than I ever had in my life. Faster than when I used to race for desert back when Big John used to ruffle my hair and let me sleep over if I wanted, faster than when Ward held a gun to my head and made me pray for some kind of miracle. I ran until my feet couldn’t keep up, and I fell into JJ with a gasp.
He held me back, lifting my feet from the ground they stood on. I swore I heard him mumble something sappy under his breath, but he quickly shrugged it away when he saw the look in my eyes. I never felt love until I felt the desperation in the way he wrapped his arms around me. The way he squeezed the air from my lungs and only let me breathe when he was sure that the feeling between his elbows and his chest was really real, until he knew that this was for good.
He had slung my bags into the back seat and laughed as he told me to get in the Twinkie. When he started driving, he played the old CD we burned together in middle school filled with soft rock and Bob Marley. Occasionally, a song I had written into the playlist without him knowing would play. He always acted angry that I’d done that, but his fingers tapped the wheel and he couldn’t help but hum along. He would never admit to liking trashy pop songs, but the pink on his cheeks gave him away.
When the CD was spun to an end, we debated playing it again. We fell into silence, into the comfort of company. We both took the time to process the fact that this was real now, this was the decision I had decided to make. The thoughts that ran through my mind, what if I took off? What if I packed my bags, what if we moved back home? Let’s adventure down the coast, let’s live our youthful dreams that are unrealistic. Let’s make a home. They were real now, in this car, in him. We sat comfortably knowing that there was no limit on our company now, no restrictions on how much time there was left to borrow.
My socks tapped against the dashboard, my toes tracing the outline of the stickers scattered along the interior. Wet residue was left over, soggy folds gathered at my ankles. My body folded into itself slightly. I let the warn air from the dusty vents dance across my skin. Goosebumps faded like the sinking feeling in my gut. The smell of gasoline filled my nose once more, the smell of his deodorant reminded me that he was close.
“No doubt about it. Don’t know how you’re gonna talk your way out of this one.” JJ sighed contently.
“Well, you’re pretty good at sweet talking.” I buttered him up. Compliments were his weakness, I knew it all too well.
“I love you, but no.” JJ laughed.
“What! Oh, come on, please!”
My hands wrapped around his right bicep. My chin sat perched on his shoulder, batting my eyelashes at him and tickling the peach fuzz on his jaw that he had missed while shaving. I wanted to rub my palm over it, tease him for it with a smile. He had a toothy grin that I could see reflecting back in the rearview mirror.
“I get shit done, but I’m not a miracle worker, ‘kay?” He lifted his arm out of my grasp reluctantly, waving his finger to make his point.
“I thought Papa J was a miracle worker?” I teased with a raised brow. My arms crossed over my chest with a huff. My back fell gently against door. I turned to face him, a pout on my face and lines between my furrowed brows.
JJ let out a breathy laugh, his resolve quickly breaking at my endless begging. He had soft spots and I knew just where to aim.
“No, no! Don’t use my ego against me!” He laughed. I held my stomach this time, trying to keep my ribs together while I struggled to contain the fits of giggles bubbling up my throat and fighting past my lips. If love was a sanctuary, I was certain I had both feet in it. If it was a fire, I was burning up, and if it was the waves, they had crashed down relentlessly against my shivering body, bringing relief with each blow.
I bit the inside of my cheek and chewed at the skin. Laughter faded into even breathing, and my limbs curled up against the wrinkling fabric of the passenger seat. It had just barely started to rain again, a soft pattern of droplets hitting the windshield every so often. The closer we got to the dock, the more it lightened up. Though, the storm came in waves in the shape of the clouds that covered the blue skies. With each opening with sun peaking through, the tapping on glass stopped. When the grey swallowed us whole, it resumed. I didn’t mind it again. Not for the reasons that I wallowed in just hours ago, not to seek comfort in my homesick nature that cane purely from the soul of a homebody. But this time, because the swelling my my heart made me want to pull over to the side of the highway and spin around until my half-dried socks were coated in mud and my skin didn’t recall what the dryness felt like.
“Can I tell you something?” I murmured, my eyes locked in to the passing view that was the trees speeding past the windows.
“Yeah.” JJ hummed.
“I only came back for you.”
JJ hesitated on what he thought he wanted to say. He was biting his tongue. I shook my head.
“That sounds bad.” I laughed. “I only decided to leave because of you. I guess…just sitting in the middle of the road, I already felt really far away from everyone. I missed everyone more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life, but I was convinced that maybe I could suffer through it. But…just being with my thoughts, and hearing your voice after thinking for a while…kinda just convinced me.”
JJ took it all in. I saw the whites of his knuckles deepen the harder he pressed his fingertips to the wheel, the vast expanse of road ahead daunting now. This was beyond quality time together, and he knew it now that the newness began to settle and he began to realize it was the same old me. This was my future, and I had tossed it all away.
“I just…I guess I always thought you’d be the one to make it out. To really go for it. Kildare’s bog enough for me, but I always kinda thought you’d go somewhere…more.” JJ spoke softly, eyes glued to the road.
“Maybe I already did get out. I got out and I tried to change everything about me to be that girl who wanted to get out, but she’s dead. Getting out sounded so freeing when we were younger, but now…now that we’ve seen the world and…and done so much in such little time, I’ve already lived a whole life, I’ve seen the world and I still feel like I don’t know who I am yet. But I know what I love, and I know that I hate every second that I’m away from it.”
JJ hummed again, raising his brows.
“You don’t need to explore every single corner of the earth to be something or-or someone. And maybe I didn’t realize it when I sent my letter in but I know now and I know that, I feel only half as good when I’m anywhere but where I should be. I’m sorry if that’s disappointing or if Pope is going to lecture me for days and you have to listen to it, but I know I have such a better chance of being who I want to be where I can be her than in some Northern University where people wear coats year round.” I rambled. My hands moved quickly. I cut through the air with each slice of my palms, and my eyes ran wild across the landscapes and the curve of his nose down to the bend of his jawline.
“I’m just trying to make sure this is what you want.” He finally cracked a smile. His head turned for a moment to meet my eyes, and I could see the flickers of light brightening up his affectionate gaze.
“Jay, I sat in the pouring rain in the middle of the road and begged you to come get me.” I deadpanned, but a small smile still graced my face.
Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to stick my toes back in the warm sand back home. To look down at my boots and dance along the gravel roads instead of balancing between two yellow lines that shot straight down the neat pavement.
Home was a foreign concept for a long time. The idea that it was something that could be bought. Through a mortgage, monthly rent, out of pocket. I never had those kinds of expenses. What was pocket change for some felt like gold to me, so maybe when people sat around talking about how they craved a big house to reside in, I never fully understood. Then again, I was never anywhere long enough to know.
I wouldn’t change a thing, how I ran around with my friends for years looking for gold that seemed to become buried under more and more stories, leading us to an even greater prize. I wouldn’t change the way I threw it all away to be with them. Subconsciously, I was smarter than I thought. Pope talked about packing up his bags, skipping town and moving to Idaho. Somewhere where he meant nothing to nobody and could start over. But I never indulged in it, or the fantasies of having a little more money. Being stable out be nice, but I always knew I had what I needed. I had a home and it was built on the structure of my four best friends that soon grew in size to six, and they had toothy smiles and stupid jokes.
“Do you think they’ll be mad?” I asked suddenly. Sure, this was right and it was what was true, but this was a dream that nobody else ever got to experience.
JJ pulled his lip between his teeth.
“Nah.” He sighed. “Pope will have your head, but Pope gets wound up easily. Could use him as a fishing pole.” JJ joked. It made me laugh and I felt any stress melting away. It was funny that he could do that anytime he pleased. I didn’t know if he ever knew he could do it, but he had a smart mouth, and a funny bone that always seemed to tickle me just right.
“But not you?” I asked once again.
“Not me what?”
“You wouldn’t? Be disappointed in me, that is.” I clarified softly, the roads becoming softer the more me drove along them. It was only moments until we’d soon roll onto the metal bridge connecting us to the boat that would send us home.
JJ breathed out through his nose.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes.” I responded plainly.
“And it makes you happy?”
“Yes.” JJ sighed, his eyes flickering from the wheel, to the road, and back to me. But only for a moment.
“Then no.” He answered just as plainly as I did, but there was a twinge of happiness itching at the corners of his lips. Selfishly, he wanted me to come home, and selfishly, I did too.
“Well, are you mad at me?” I continued to press him.
He laughed. “I could never be angry at you.”
“Not even if this is the wrong choice?” I picked at the skin by my fingers. My skin hurt a lot less now that it was shedding the smell of foreign land and letting the faint smell of the Twinkie stick.
“Who am I to tell you if it’s wrong?”
“Well, Pope would tell me it’s wrong.” I argued weakly.
“And am I Pope?”
I shook my head silently, and my eyes glued to my fingers. Blood stained my cuticles, where skin met nail. It stung, but it hurt a lot less than what I felt before.
“Y/n/n, you could send me into bankruptcy and act like we’re rich and I don’t think I’d even have it in me to blame you.” JJ smiled. I focused on the slopes and curls of his hair.
We sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t like he was Shakespeare, but it wasn’t often JJ said something truly sappy. Usually, his philosophies revolved around excuses for his own stupid actions, which, now that he had explained his view on me, I had come to realize I never fully saw the extent of his behavior because I had never had the courage to blame him. I never would.
“So, you’ll talk me out of trouble when we get back?” I smiled sweetly, leaning my head on his shoulder and batting my eyelashes desperately.
JJ let out a laugh from deep in his stomach, his cheeks turning pink from his gasps of oxygen.
“I love you, but no.”
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“I thought JJ was the reckless one, but holy shit, Y/n/n!” Pope ran a hand over his hat, pulling it off by the brim in one quick motion. The hard fabric hit the wooden counter of the bait and charter shop, the slap echoing through the homely space.
“Can you blame me? It’s so far away, and we just got back! I haven’t been in one place for more than a month in years, and I’m so god damn tired of feeling homesick all the time!” I tried to argue against the growing rally against me. I pleaded my case, but they all looked at me like I was brain dead.
“You had a chance, Y/n. A really good one too and you blew it, for what? To sell bait? To slum it in the cut? You can do that when you’re done earning your other options!” He scolded me like I was a kid. But I’m not a kid, and the worry lines slowly creeping up onto my once vibrant face are only evidence of the ever growing number attached to my bones.
“Yes, but a chance I didn’t ever really want! I mean, how could I even know if I ever wanted it, I don’t know who I am!”
“Thats what growing up is for! Not growing down. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re not a kid anymore, Y/n. And you never will be again!”
Silence fell over the small room. Even the waves rolling against the dirt didn’t dare to whisper through the large windows and gaps for doors.
“I sacrificed that for you.” I spoke softly, bitterly. For so long, I’s bitten my tongue for everyone. Hidden my resentment for chasing after a gold, I never really wanted because in my eyes, I already had it. But it was what they wanted, so I let myself age out of the period of my life I had dreamed of since I was a kid.
“I gave up my childhood so that you could figure out yours! You got to know who you are, I never got that because no one ever stopped to ask me what I wanted! Nobody! You were all too caught up in your greedy treasure hunt to ever look around and think about if everyone wanted to do this!”
“No one made you come along.” Kiara stepped forward, the same disapproving look in her eyes. She was only defending her wordless friend, but my feet felt heavy and my joints were warm. I felt myself creating sentences I should have never admitted out loud.
“Well I did! I did, and it’s too late to change that, and I did it because that’s what friends do. But what do we have to show for it? Nothing! We didn’t get the cross, we didn’t get the gold, hell, we already spent all of the nuggets John B managed to grab!” It fell silent again, and suddenly, I was standing in the center of a circle I didn’t want to be a part of.
“So what? Because we failed, it condemns you to leave college?” Kiara always had a smarter mouth than me. She was quit witted and observant. Yet, she failed to understand that my choice to come home wasn’t something merely of the way the treasures slipped through our fingers. It was a homesickness she never had to feel because she had plenty of them where she was consistently welcomed.
“Why is it so wrong for me to be unhappy with something that everyone else enjoys? Just because my dreams do not inspire yours does not make them any less important. A-and honestly I’m sick of standing here and listening to all of you yell at me for getting out of there instead of letting myself waste away! I’d be dead if I didn’t leave, I’d be dead because you all mean a lot too much to me for me to be away from you guys for so long. In four years I might be rich, but I would be unhappy. I would be bored. But you guys—us; we will be interesting, and funny, and bold, and unpredictable forever.”
I swallowed hard, and my eyes met the blues of the boy who had the courage to go against the majorities better judgement and bring me home. He had the same wild look on his face.
I hadn’t expected JJ to speak for me, to try and mellow out the anger I knew I would receive and backtrack against the backlash I would surely face. But out of everyone, I thought I could count on him to have my back.
And he just, didn’t.
I decided then I wouldn’t stay in the eye of the hurricane when I knew what it was capable of. I wouldn’t let myself become part of its destruction if I knew I could separate myself from it for just a moment, to remove myself from all the disappointed stares.
My feet hit the wood of the long dock, the bottoms of my shoes echoing through each plank of wood, all borrowed from the destruction of a past home.
I thought of packing up, leaving, heading over to some other place I could call home temporarily, but my fingers hesitated to reach under the bed, and my knuckles curled away from the zipper that connected to the duffle bag that was squished between dirty clothes and shoe boxes filled with memories.
A hand spun me around, pulling me from the daze I had put myself in the second I walked into the new bedroom that was mine to keep in the newly fixed home. It was calloused and warm, yet the coolness of the rings decorated on each finger revealed who the strong hold belonged to.
“Why couldn’t say something?” I asked bitterly before my eyes even met his. It was just JJ and I in the confines of our bedroom. The door shut without a crack and the windows sealed off from the outside.
“I told you I wouldn’t.” He smiled. I didn’t find it funny.
“No, but you could have defended me. I would have done it for you.” My lip wobbled. My throat stung, and JJ’s eyes softened. He must have believed it was because he hurt me, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just the idea that nobody would ever deal with what I felt because they hadn’t been burdened with the feeling of it ever before. And therefore, nobody would ever get it, nor have an inkling of an understanding of why I had to come home.
“Y/n/n, come on. It’ll blow over. They’ll be happy to have you back as soon as they get over it.” He tried to comfort me.
When his hands found my shoulders, it felt belittling, condescending, though I knew it wasn’t the case. I convinced myself it was because I was angry. Spiteful, maybe.
“No, JJ, stop. Stop touching me like you care, I can’t…I can’t stand it right now.” I stepped away, throwing his hands off of me like they were poison, or fire, or both.
“Everyone is looking at me like I’m a failure! Like…like I’m something to be embarrassed about. But who are they to say that I failed? Right? I spent my whole life, the years when I’m supposed to be finding myself licking the dirt off of other peoples shoes! And I took it and I didn’t complain because I thought that maybe my day would come, and it hasn’t! How is that fair? And to think I was stupid enough to think that something good would happen to me. But the truth is I hate being out of this stupid town, and this stupid town hates me. I-it’s like they’re all spitting on me and blaming it on the wind. And don’t look at me like I’m crazy because I love you too damn hard to be looked at like that by a boy I would give my whole life for!”
I breathed heavily through my teeth, and my chest raised with so much vigor in my voice, I shook the air with a desperate anger I had felt marinating for decades beneath my skin. Yet, the manhunting and the blaming had pushed it down, and the failure and the fear had only boiled it back up. But it was always there, simmering. JJ just laughed.
“I’m only looking at you like you’re crazy because I think you’re too good to care what anyone has to say about you.” He explained with a smile.
“To you, maybe. But that doesn’t make it true. Whats true is that they all had some image of me painted for them the second I made the decision to go to college, and it was wrong. Because I’m not nearly smart enough to be as interesting or independent as they want me to be. I can’t do organic chemistry, I’ve never passed a calculus test, I’m not a doctor. Nobody ever supported those dreams anyways, not even me, because as amazing as it would be to become those versions of myself, it’s not me.” My face crumpled in defeat finally.
“I’m not…good enough for anything outside of this town.”
For the first time in my life, I saw something in JJ’s eyes as I confessed how I saw myself, how I let my friends—no, my families anger affect how I saw my decisions. I saw dapples of disappointment flickering in the sea of his eyes.
“Do you really think thats true?” He asked calmly, softly. He ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to reach out for me, but he too shared that feeling of uncertainty that had consumed me in the past months.
“Good god, maybe they were right. Maybe you are a failure.” JJ sighed, and my breathing halted. “How can you for one second believe that anything they have to say is true? How can you believe that these things you think about yourself are true?”
“Well what am I supposed to believe? We were all raised to believe the same things, right? The engineers and the scientists are necessary but nobody needs the family man or-or the artists to carry on, right? So why should my dreams of just simple living be tolerated when everyone else craves so much more?” I cried.
“Do you even hear yourself? It’s contradictory in every sentence!” JJ yelled furiously back at me. But his anger wasn’t placed at me, but at the things that led me to believe what I thought.
“Just a few hours ago you were excited to come home. You were certain that this is what you wanted because it was your dream and your life! You wanted to find yourself, to know who you are. And you were right! More dead on than anyone had ever been in my life, and hearing you speak about what you knew inspired me to think more for myself than for the benefit of everyone else! College, or some fancy job, or money won’t make any of us know who we are, that’s your job!” JJ’s eyes were wide. He had decided now, and his hands found a home on my arms, squeezing hard and passionately.
“Anyone can be those things they want you to be, but I promise you, if you stick with what you know you want, everyone you touch will remember you for centuries.” He promised me softly.
“And how do I know if I even know myself? What if I’ve never been home enough long enough to know?”
“Then you’ll find it. You’ll find it, and I’ll find it too. We can find it together.”
My eyes searched his. I could no longer blink away my tears. The liquid was much warmer than the rain that had pelted against my skin, that had slipped down my back and under my shirt to touch the most painful and terrifying parts of myself that I had refused to acknowledge or recover for some time. It was hard to recognize it all, to know exactly who I wanted to be, so, I did what I did know.
I wrapped my arms around JJ tightly, burying my head in the wrinkles of his shirt and let the patterns his arms rubbed circles in my back guide the way I swayed. I let him hold me, because if anything could be uncertain then he was nothing. He was the one thing I’d always known, and maybe that was why I had called him that night. Because in every memory I ever had, he was the one defining memory of home. He was home.
“Will you be mad at me if I never find it?” I asked pathetically against his chest.
“No.” He responded softly, muffled by the way his lips pressed into the top of my head affectionately.
“I could never be angry at you.”
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