#but then I was laughing after I slammed my hand in a door last week
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beautiful-songbird · 2 years ago
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I can’t explain how weird it feels to realize I’m the only girl I know who doesn’t regularly cry
Everyone talks about crying like it’s something they do on the daily, and when I say I don’t cry, they either look at me in a way that tells me they think I’m lying, or they’ll say something like I’m lucky
I don’t feel lucky
I feel uncomfortable
Especially knowing how many people think I’m weird for not crying
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babeyun · 2 months ago
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fool me three times... ✩ s.jy [m]
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synopsis: you've come home late twice this week, and for the third time to be on jake's birthday is not as charming as they say. genre: established relationship, pwp (sigh...), angst/smut/tiny bit of fluff pairing: sim jaeyun x fem!reader word count: 3.3k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, angry?jake, mentions of jay (poor guy). petnames (baby..sir [free me!!!!]), mentions of voyeurism/3way. biting, spitting, a singular slap (below the belt), oral (f.rec), fingering (f.rec), squirting, degrading, no aftercare (but it's fine i promise) listen to: fallin' - dawn, pH-1 ; abyss - dawn ; meddle about - chase atlantic author's note: i wrote this on a whim, and i'm not entirely happy with it (smut is not my forte nor do i love writing it.) i'd originally planned to take one of my ideas out of the vault and write it in advance, but i got slammed with schoolwork. i am so, so tired as i write this note. happy birthday, jaeyun. i love u.
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It's twelve-forty-two in the morning.
This is the third time this week that Jake finds himself sitting on the couch, alone in your shared apartment. He's turned all the lights off, legs crossed over one another as he checks his phone for the fifth time. Nothing.
He sighs inwardly, leaning further into the soft cushions of the couch. You'd picked this out together, and it was one of your favorite places to spend time together that wasn't your bedroom. The soft brown suede had seen the two of you in many situations – cuddling under a soft white blanket Jake's mom gave you for Christmas last year. Sharing a bowl of cereal because you were too lazy to get up and make your own, but you gladly stood up and refilled his bowl. Holding hands tightly when a scary scene came on the television, crashing on the couch after dancing around together to Fallin' by Dawn and pH-1.
Kissing like two desperate lovers, unable to even take your clothes off to fully feel each other's skin. This couch had seen you in every position imaginable, the cushion on the far right the usual place for your face if Jake was too excited to make it to the bedroom.
You were so busy these days. You hadn't had a date night in three weeks, hadn't had sex in two…and unfortunately – it's making him a little insane.
Recently…the couch had seen more and more of Jake, alone. Jake sitting alone, popcorn bowl in his lap as he waited for you to come home from work. Jake, laying down while wearing the oversized hoodie you'd worn the day before, engulfed in the soft grapefruit notes of your perfume. Jake, letting Layla up on the couch to snuggle with because he can't feel your warmth at that moment.
Jake, missing you.
He sighs again, flipping his phone over.
12:45AM.
No new messages from you, no missed calls. Just the soft sound of Abyss by Dawn.
Where have you gone? You were his best friend. His best friend wrapped gently in the sheets of his love, filled to the brim with his soft words and loving caresses. You were his best friend, his lover, his everything. He saw himself in you, his whole purpose was you.
"Shh, he's probably asleep." He hears your voice from the other side of the front door, before hearing you try to gently slide your key in the lock. His eyes widened, pressing pause on the song before bolting for the bedroom. He doesn't make it in time, the door opening and his ears picking up on a familiar laugh.
Jay.
"Jongseong, for the love of God." You grit, and Jake watches as the two of you carefully toe off your shoes, loads of bags in your hands as Jay snickers to himself, carefully tiptoeing to the kitchen in the dark. The hallway light illuminates the back of you, and you suddenly stiffen, lifting your head to meet Jake's eyes.
He scoffs inwardly, watching as you try to fumble with the lightswitch in the living room just as he slides into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He locks it, hearing you start an argument with Jay in the kitchen as you shut the front door.
Unfortunately, Jake only stews in his anger. He doesn't know why you're late today, but it seems Jay has your attention more than your boyfriend does. Your boyfriend of three years, pushed to the side the day before (and day of) his birthday for a friend you made through Jake.
Jake flips onto the bed, a frustrated groan from his lips as he hears the two of you rustling around in the kitchen. The fact that you haven't even come to the bedroom to let him know that you're home is even more infuriating, and Jake feels his throat start to burn as he holds back angry tears.
Jake had always been good at setting boundaries and putting feelings first, despite being somewhat of a more logical thinker. You were an incredibly emotional person, hidden behind layers of shitty relationships and hurtful friendships, was your tired heart trying to patch itself up. Jake knew that if it was him that did this – not texting you when he'd be home late, letting you agonize over your whereabouts, coming home with one of your friends in tow and giggling like they had some sort of secret…
You'd make a fucking scene.
But Jake can't bring himself to do that. Even in all his anger, his frustration…his hurt, he can't confront you like that. It's not fair, to either of you (or Jay, but who's talking about that guy right now? Not Jake.)
He takes a deep breath, feeling a tear slip down the side of his face. He wipes it away quickly, only standing up from the bed to unlock the door. He takes your hoodie off, the grapefruit perfume making his chest ache. He knows you could just be planning a surprise for him. He knows that, but his mind can't help but wonder as he pulls back the comforter.
Why three late nights, in one week? Why no messages, why no phone calls? You wouldn't even kiss him hello when you arrived, just a tired smile and a soft hey. Your hair was always in disarray, and he knew it was because you liked to drive with the windows down. He knew that.
Sighing, he slips under the covers, facing away from the door. He hears you laugh loudly, before hearing your soft footsteps make their way to the bedroom. He wipes at his eyes, feeling a few more tears trickle down his fingers as he hears the door open gently.
He doesn't turn to face you, instead choosing to squeeze his eyes shut when he hears you sigh gently.
"I know you're awake." You murmur, but he doesn't respond. He doesn't turn around, choosing to breathe through his mouth to hide the fact that your behavior drove him to tears. You click your tongue, and he hears the zipper of your pants. You're moving around, undressing from the pretty pink blouse and grey slacks he chose for you that morning. 
He pulls the covers up further, covering his bare shoulders before feeling your hand on the back of his neck. Your fingertips are warm, your thumb gently circling his pulse point. "Jake." "What?" He mutters, the bite of his tone not going unnoticed. You sigh, and he peels open one eye to look up at you. "What, Y/N?" He sees your eyes scan his face, before your hand on his neck gives a soft squeeze. "I love you." He doesn't like how quickly the knot in his stomach goes away at your words, or the way you can tell his cheeks and ears are tinging pink. He scoffs, closing his eye and moving from your touch. "I love you, too. Keep it down."
"Mmh." You hum in response, but he feels your hand card through his hair. He huffs, before feeling your lips press gently on his temple. "I miss you, my baby." You say against his skin, and pull away entirely. He hears you open his dresser drawer, and the rustling of his clothing being pulled onto your body. He opens his eyes to see you tug on a random shirt of his, pulling your hair out of the neckline before opening the door. 
"Y/N, where is your butter?!" Jay calls, and you quickly shut the door, scampering down the hall.
He can hear the two of you bickering before you groan frustratedly, and he can hear Jay say he's going to the store. You argue that you don't even really need the butter for the cake, but Jay's words take Jake by surprise.
"Maybe go spend some time with him while I'm out of here. You know, I love you because you're my friend, but you're really dense today. Sometimes your boyfriend just needs you."
You didn't reply, or at least Jake doesn't think you did as he hears the door open and close. He hears you groan, and he's out of bed before he can even realize it. He grabs the hoodie back off the top of the dresser, shoving his head through it before yanking the door open.
"Y/N." He calls from the threshold of the bedroom, and you poke your head out of the kitchen. Your eyes are wide, but he can see how tired you are by the bags under your eyes. You probably took it off during your overtime, you'd been doing that a lot lately.
He sighs, closing the bedroom door behind him as he walks towards the kitchen. You step out, shaking your head. "You can't go in there, Jake. I'm…we…" "I'm just going to get the butter for you." He rolls his eyes, pushing past and looking away from all the stuff on the counter – but not before catching a glimpse of baby blue frosting in a bag. There were egg cartons stacked neatly, and three gallons of milk. Too many bags of flour to count, and Jake opens the freezer to pull out the butter he'd put up there earlier.
He'd gone grocery shopping by himself, because you weren't able to get off work. He wasn't upset about it, but he remembers you liked to freeze the butter until you had to use it. He doesn't remember why, but the habit stuck with him.
Just like all of your other little habits.
Your eyes are wide as he slides it onto the island, before worming back out of the kitchen. He doesn't say anything to you, only slinking past your tired shoulders when you manage to grab his fingers. He stops in his tracks, sighing as you skirt around to face him. He looks down at you, a tense clench in his jaw as he moves his brows in query.
"Don't be mad." You breathe, both your hands now holding his wrist and fingers. Your eyes search his face, finding the anger in the twitch of his brows before he shakes his head. "I'm not. I'm just tired." "I'm tired too, but I'm not looking at you like that." Jake feels his head swim as he takes in the tinge of guilt in your voice. He knows you're trying to do something nice for him, even if you're shitty at keeping secrets. He knows you're not doing anything to hurt him, you just have a horrible way of executing things.
He appreciates you nonetheless, because he knows that you're trying your best. Your schedule is jam-packed – your days are long and frustrating, full of people that need your help constantly, full of you having to make decisions for everyone else.
Jake being someone who values quality time clashed with that. He remembers how he'd squeeze in seeing you during your lunch break when you first started dating, just to have a moment alone. He remembers even waking up early to drive to your old apartment and sit in your bedroom while you got ready for work, just for a chance to give you a good morning kiss.
He made time. You're making time.
"I'm sorry." You speak again, your hands squeezing his arm lightly. "Yeah?" He shakes his head, but you nod quickly, your hands floating to his face.
"I am, I'm sorry. I know I should be–" "Prove it." He cuts you off, his face just inches from yours. Your eyes are glued to his lips, before they flicker up to his. He furrows his eyebrows at you expectantly, your tongue wetting your own lips just slightly. "How?" "You know how." His response is curt, and you swallow hard. "...Can I kiss you?" He doesn't respond, opting to answer physically. His lips press to yours gently, hands snaking around your waist to pull you closer to him. He craved your presence, in any way he could have it. He feels you sigh into his mouth as his fingers slip under your shirt, pinching at the soft skin.
"Bedroom." You mumble against his lips, and he shakes his head. "Right here." His lips move down your jaw, before his teeth catch your earring, tugging it gently. You groan as his hands move under your sweatpants, palming at your ass as you struggle to speak. "Jay-" He growls against your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before running his tongue over it. "I don't give a shit about Jay. We can give him a show if he wants to watch." 
He reconnects your lips, tongue sliding into your mouth as he moves the two of you back to the couch. His fingers push your sweatpants down as the back of your legs hit the cushion, and you look over at the door, seeing it slightly ajar and unlocked. "The door–" "Fuck the door." He groans, tugging your underwear down in one go. He pushes you gently back against the couch before kneeling in front of you, tugging the clothing off your bottom half before yanking you closer to him by your ankle. You yelp before feeling him bite at your inner thigh. "Jake!" "That's for being late on Monday." He mutters, before sinking his teeth into your other thigh, a whimper from your throat catching his attention. "That's for being late on Thursday." "I'm sorry, I was just–" "I don't want to hear it." He interrupts, shrugging. He lowers his head again, watching you brace yourself for the sharp pain of his teeth, smiling to himself before spitting on your pussy. You jolt, but can't say anything as he quickly drags his tongue through your slit. He laps at you like a dog, messily collecting your arousal on his tongue as you breathe heavily.
His nose bumps your clit as he avoids touching it with his tongue entirely, opting to thrust the wet muscle into your hole as you whine his name out desperately. "J-Jake, please, I'm sorry–" He pulls away, his lips and chin covered in your slick as he runs the tips of his cold fingers through your folds. "You know, you could've texted me."
You shudder as his thumb makes contact with your clit, the pressure light as he circles it. "I know, Jakey, I'm–" "Or called. I paid the phone bill, and I got the confirmation email. Your phone works." He interjects, nodding his head as he eases the tip of his middle finger into you, smiling to himself as your head lolls back. "I'm sorry." You breathe out, Jake's finger curling inside you to brush that spot that makes your eyes roll. He only hums in response, feeling you cover his hand in your arousal as he slowly adds another finger, relishing in the wet sound of your pussy against his hand. "You're going to prove it to me, right? Gonna cum all over my hand, right? That's all you're good for, anyway." His tone is condescending, making you clench around his fingers. His eyes widen, before a low chuckle slips through his lips. "You like that? Being nothing but a hole for me to use?" You whimper, hiding your face in your hands as your hips meet Jake's fingers, only for his hand to slip out and land a sharp smack against your clit. You gasp, your legs threatening to close as Jake bullies his shoulders between them, his fingers slipping back into you with practiced ease.
"You can't call, you can't text, and now you can't speak. Forgive me for thinking your brain would work for anything." He rolls his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush at his own words. The two of you had never explored this, only sweet nothings and soft praises expressed between you, even a soft slut thrown in if the night was especially raunchy.
"I'm sorry, Jake, I'm sorry." Your thighs are trembling on his shoulders, and he scoffs against your skin. "Yeah, yeah." 
He lowers his head, lips latching onto your swollen clit. His eyes flutter shut at the taste of you, his knees weak at the idea of having gone so long without it. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he curls his own upwards, the tug of yours making him moan into your wet cunt. Soft gasps of don't stop hitting his ears, and he knows he should be upset at you but it would take an entire army to pry him off you at that moment.
He feels you clamp down on his fingers, your back arching off the couch as he feels your release soak his face and hoodie, dripping down his fingers onto the carpet. He slurps at you eagerly, his fingers overstimulating you as you try to pull him away by his hair. "J-Jake, s'too much…" You trail off, not able to finish your sentence as he tongues at your clit with vigor, your thighs clamping shut around him. "One more, c'mon. One more, show me how sorry you are."
He hears you cry his name out softly, eyes looking up to see your head thrown back against the couch, chest moving up in shallow breaths. He kisses up your stomach, nipping as he moves up, his fingers never slowing their pace as he pushes your shirt up with his free hand, cool fingers palming at your chest. His fingers gently toy with your nipple, a soft groan from you as your thighs start to shake a bit harder.
"You're sorry, right?" He lifts himself to meet your face, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you nod. "You'll call or text when you're going to be late, right, angel?" "Yes." You whisper as his lips ghost over yours. "Yes, what?" "Yes, sir." Your eyes flutter shut, and he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Open."
Your lips part with a pathetic whimper of his name, before he gracefully spits onto your tongue. His lips press to yours quickly, suppressing your moans as his fingers pick up their pace, feeling your release drip all over his hand and the couch. "I love you, okay? I just get worried." His mumbles are soft in comparison to the degrading words he'd said earlier, and you can't bring yourself to speak back as you nod against his lips. You kiss him back slowly, putting all your energy into it. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. Are you okay? Let me get a towel, okay?"
You shake your head, carding your fingers through his hair and holding him close. His fingers slip out of you, a dull ache between your thighs as he taps your knee. "Baby, c'mon." "Please." You murmur against his lips, and he feels a flustered smile taking over as he shakes his head. "Jay'll be back soon–"
"Oh, come on." Jay's voice rings through the air, and Jake looks up to see the guy covering his eyes as he runs into the kitchen. Jake's ears burn in embarrassment, only to feel you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie. "Please, Jakey." "Jay–" "You said you didn't care earlier. Why do you care now?" You pout, canting your hips against the tent in his shorts, watching his eyes flutter shut and his lip tucked between his teeth. "You're so–" "Can you guys please take it elsewhere?" Jay whines from the kitchen, and you snort. Jake sighs inwardly, awkwardly rooting around for your sweatpants before finding them just beneath him, entirely soaked.
"Fuck." He shoves the material up your legs anyway, before wrapping your legs around his waist, lifting you up carefully as Jay peeks out the kitchen. "I assume I'm in here alone for the rest of the night?" You smile at him over Jake's shoulder, "Unless you want to join."
Jake stops, looking over his shoulder at one of his oldest friends. Jay's face looks a bit conflicted, his brows furrowed but cheeks pink with embarrassment. Jake's throat clearing garners the older man's attention, a small smile on Jake's lips.
"You wouldn't say no to your best friend on his birthday, would you?"
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BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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marauder-misprint · 2 months ago
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Checked box
Sirius Black x Potter!reader
13k words
cw: fluff, little bit of snogging, pinning, hurt/comfort (I guess?)
“Black is snogging Eloise Garner in the corridor,” Mary says as she sits down for breakfast at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
“Bit early for a snog, isn’t it?” you ask, not looking up from your paper.
“I’d say so,” she responds, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“Isn’t that like the third girl this week?” Lily asks.
“Feels like he’s trying to at least snog every girl in our year and then some,” Marlene answers.
The group is silent for a moment as Mary, Marlene and Lily all stare at you.
“Well? Is he?” Lily asks.
“How would I know?”
“Because he is quite literally in your lap every evening?” Marlene replies. “Honestly, if we didn’t know you, we’d say you two were dating. Or at least you’d’ve been the first one he snogged.”
You make a face at that assumption. “My brother’s best friend, believe it or not, does not confide all of his life’s mission to me.”
“You’re probably one of them,” Mary giggles.
“Except I’m basically his sister!”
“Siblings don’t act like that around each other,” Lily says with a smile. 
“James!” you call to your brother who is a few seats down from the group. “Does Sirius like me romantically?”
He looks up from his Quidditch book, eyes wide.
“What? What did he do to you?”
He slams his book down and quickly walks down the table toward the girls. He crouches next to you so he wasn’t towering over you. 
“What did Padfoot do?”
You laugh at your brother. “Nothing, James. But these three,” you gesture to the girls around you, “think I’m on his to-be-snogged list. I’m not, am I?” Your words were teasing, already knowing that you weren't.
“I’ll damn ensure that you’re not,” he growls, shaking his head.
“But there is a list?” Marlene pipes up. Her eyes glitter with intrigue. 
“Not a list, per se… But he does seem to have trouble keeping to one girl for long.”
“And there you have it, folks! No real list and even if there was, I’m not on it.” You turn to look at James who doesn’t seem to be moving from where he crouches behind your shoulder. “Thanks James. You can, uh, go sit down now.”
“Oooh! Speak of the devil!” Mary chirps, looking toward the Great Hall door where Sirius was entering alone. 
“Morning, pumpkin,” Sirius says, ruffling your hair. “Girls.” 
James had waited until Sirius made it to the girls. The boys went down to their usual spots down the table. Once sat, James bursts into hurried whispers that lead to numerous glances being sent in the girls’ direction. 
“How come I can’t call you pumpkin?” Lily pouts. Of all the pet names, pumpkin was your least favorite.
You roll your eyes before answering. “He’ll be reprimanded later for that. Don’t you worry, dearest Lily.”
“Reprimanded in your sex dungeon?” Marlene gasps, a hand over her heart.
You smack her with your paper from across the table. “Don’t you start a rumor like that!”
“I could totally see you having one though!” Marlene insists. 
“What is your dominatrix name?” Lily asks, gently bumping into your shoulder. 
“You are all too horny this morning. I’ll see you in class.”
You quickly gather your things, take one last sip of coffee and leave the hall. The day seems to go on as usual for you. You sat with the girls in most of your classes. You’re glad the conversation of Sirius’ list had been left at breakfast. There are minor differences in the boys during classes. They appeared to have shuffled their seating arrangements, but it doesn’t affect you until History of Magic. You usually sit next to Sirius. Instead, you were sat next to Peter while Sirius sat on the other side of James. Peter wasn’t your favorite of James’ friends but you could tolerate him. 
There was definitely something different about Sirius in the common room after dinner. You usually hung out with her brother and his friends in the evenings. This would often lead to you sitting with Sirius on the couch, one of you draped over the other. Depending on who was sitting and who was lounging, you would play with each other’s hair or do homework or take a brief nap. You liked when Sirius would read you the assigned chapter because you otherwise wouldn’t read it. This evening, however, Sirius sat in an armchair nowhere near you. You frown as you watch him sit down and proceed to avoid your gaze. 
The altered seating arrangement and not sitting with you on the couch continues for the next few days. By Friday evening, it is driving you crazy. You need to know what is going on. You wait until most people have gone to bed before deciding to confront him. Sirius was usually one of the last people up so you knew that waiting it out would be okay. 
“Black, come ‘ere,” you say.
He looks over at you with a confused look on his face. He had been watching the fire, lost in his own thoughts. When he doesn’t move, you pat the couch cushion next to you. Reluctantly, he gets up and move to sit next to you. 
“What’s up, pumpkin?”
“What’s up with you?” you ask, your brows furrowed. “Feels like you’ve been on the other side of the Earth this week.”
He shrugs, looking back towards the fire. “Just following directions.”
“Whose directions?”
“Prongs.”
“And, pray tell, what did that idiot tell you to do?”
“To stay away from you?” he replies, obvious confusion in his voice. 
You pinch the bridge of your nose in mild frustration. “When was this?”
“Uh, earlier this week at breakfast. Made it seem like it was partly at your request?”
You shake your head. “Leave it to James to mess something up. No. He said he would make sure I didn’t end up as another checked box on your list. That would be all him.”
“Another checked box? What list is this?” Sirius asks with a slight chuckle as he looks at you. 
“The list of every girl in our year and then some,” you giggle, slightly relieved that it seems like he doesn’t have such a list. “You know, your apparent mission to kiss every one. And maybe get some.”
He quickly turns back to the fire, hoping to hide the brief look of embarrassment that crosses his face. You see it anyway and feel your face flush slightly. 
“There’s no list. And you certainly wouldn’t be a box on it if it were.”
“Ouch, Black,” you say with semi-fake hurt. “Cut me deep.”
“Please, I would be neutered if I kissed you.”
You laugh. Your laugh is enough to draw Sirius’ gaze away from the fire again. He loves seeing you smile that widely and knowing it was something he said to get you to. 
“Why were you talking about that imaginary list anyways?”
“Mary saw you snogging Eloise and apparently thought I would know if this list existed,” you say with a soft chuckle. 
“And James was a part of this conversation?” he asks in disbelief.
“Well, I called him over when the girls didn’t believe that we aren’t romantically involved, let alone never kissed.”
Sirius shakes his head with a small smile playing on his lips. “And that leads to James declaring that I need to be at least a meter away from you at all times?”
“I asked him two questions. Do you like me romantically and was I on your to-be-snogged list?” You pause. “You know, he never actually answered the first one.”
“That would be because he doesn’t know,” Sirius says, turning his head almost 90 degrees to crack his neck. “You know how much he hates being wrong… So he’s not going to give an answer if he doesn’t know if it’s right.”
“What does that mean?”
“That I don’t discuss everything with Prongs. Although, he never has asked how I feel about you.”
You chuckle and nudge Sirius with your shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend like you might have feelings for me. It’s… fine that you don’t.” The words taste bitter in your mouth, but you try to sound genuine. You would be lying if you said you never imagined things developing between the two of you. 
“Why do you assume I don’t?” Sirius asks, cocking his head as he looks at you intently.
“Why would you be snogging anything that moves in a skirt if you liked me and you’ve never made a move for me?”
“I thought we agreed that Prongs would have me neutered if I kissed you?” He takes a breath. “And maybe knowing that I could very well lose my best friend if I went after the girl I actually like is the reason I go from girl to girl. None of them make me feel like she does.”
“Wait, what?”
“There’s just more than one reason why you can’t be a checked box on this list,” Sirius says, standing up. “Goodnight, pumpkin.”
He places a gentle kiss on top of your head before heading up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. You stare after him dumbfounded. Has Sirius just essentially told you that he did like you and then leave? 
Despite knowing that he was well out of earshot, you still say, “That’s not my name.”
None of the students remaining in the common room pay you any attention as you sit on the couch alone, talking to yourself now. You slump into the cushions and take over Sirius’ habit of staring into the fire. You understand why he does it. The way that the flames dance and flicker and radiate heat is calming. 
You are distracted all weekend by what Sirius had said. You bury yourself in homework and use it as an excuse to avoid the Quidditch game. It’s Slytherin against Hufflepuff so your absence isn't insulting to James. Despite being tucked away in a distraction-free corner of the library, you make little progress on your homework. Your mind kept wandering back to Sirius and what he had said. You had worked hard to bury all of your feelings for him years ago, assuming it would never happen due to his close friendship with James. Your feelings continued to remain buried as he got closer with you and never hinted that he might like you more than a friend. 
In your dorm, you ignore the comments from Lily and Mary that for someone who spent all weekend in the library, you made such little progress on your assignments, or that they were done extremely poorly. 
On Monday, you really do try to pay attention in class, but it is futile. Even after a weekend of him on your mind, your thoughts keep drifting back to Sirius, who is in most of your classes. Even worse, you come to realize that you have no one to talk to about it so you can only let your mind spin as it had for the past two days. You think you disguise your distraction fairly well in classes until Remus grabs your hand in Potions before you can tip an ingredient into your cauldron.
“Are you trying to blow up the classroom?” he hisses at you. 
You blink at him and then look at what you had been about to pour into your brew. He is right. If you had dumped it in, your cauldron would have blown up and severely damaged those around you. You give Remus a grateful smile.
“Thanks, Remus… Been a bit distracted lately.”
“Yeah, I know.”
You give him a look. “Is it obvious?”
“You didn’t bother to apologize or clean up your spilled inkwell in Transfiguration,” he says with a soft smile. “If Lily hadn’t quickly cleaned it up for you, McGonagall would’ve given you detention.”
“Huh… I’ll have to thank her later…”
“What’s got you so distracted?”
“Nothing too important,” you lie.
“If I’m almost blown up over it, it must be important.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal. I just don’t have anyone to talk to about it so it’s… festering.”
Remus turns back to his own potion.
“Must be quite the topic if you have no one to talk to about it.”
You scrunch your face as you add the correct ingredient to your potion, causing it to turn a pleasant blue color. 
“What does that mean?”
“You have plenty of people who care for you. And if none of us are good enough, you could probably have your pick of first years who would love to listen to your problems.”
You chew at the dead skin of your bottom lip, looking at Remus and knowing he was right.
“Don’t be mad but sometimes I forget that you are also my friend, not just James’. And that you are the most understanding person on this planet.”
He chuckles softly, not trying to draw attention to himself. “Understandable. But what is it that you feel you have no one to talk to about?”
“It’s too public in here,” you say, looking around the room. “It’s something I can’t talk to the girls about because they will all tease me endlessly if I do. And I can’t talk about it with James because we don’t really discuss that kind of stuff often and he overreacts.”
“And Sirius?”
You purse your lips. 
“Oh,” Remus says, suddenly understanding. “Let’s discuss this after class when I’m certain I’ll be in less danger of blowing up.”
Once your potions are turned in to Professor Slughorn, you and Remus leave the classroom together. Lily, Mary and James give you questionable stares as you disappear around the corner. Neither of you say a word until you are more secluded in the grounds of Hogwarts. You walk down towards the Black Lake. Anyone trying to eavesdrop would have a harder time hearing you over the sound of waves. 
“What did Sirius do?” Remus asks, sitting down and resting his back against a tree. 
Mimicking his actions, you answer, “It’s what he said when I confronted him for avoiding me all last week.”
“Wasn’t that at your request?”
“No. James is a liar.”
“Okay?”
“Long story short, Mary, Marlene and Lily…” you start to say before putting your head in your hands and groaning. “Screw that. Does Sirius like me?”
“He lets you touch his hair. Of course he likes you.”
You lift your head to look at Remus. “Does he like me as more than a friend?”
“What did he say to you?”
“I asked first.”
“I can only speak if I know what he told you.”
You sigh heavily and turn your gaze to the lake.
“Something like he’d lose James if he kissed the girl he actually likes and that’s why he’s been kissing every girl who looks his way. And then that there’s more than one reason why I can’t be another checked box on the list of girls he’s kissed.”
Remus puts his hand on your shoulder. 
“Oh, darling…”
“Remus, does he like me?”
“I believe he does.”
You whip your head towards him. “What do you mean, you believe?”
“He’s not known for pouring his heart out. You know that. He’s private with his more personal feelings,” Remus says, choosing his words carefully. “But I have eyes and ears. The way he looks at you, especially when James isn’t looking. The way he acts around you. The way he talks to you, and about you. … And he calls you pumpkin.”
You don’t say anything. You were taking it all in, although you don’t quite understand why him using that pet name held significance. You just want Remus to keep talking. 
“You know about his home life,” he continues. 
You nod. 
“I don’t think I could say all the ways it makes him the way he is. We’ve only heard snippets of it. I think there’s a lot he has walled off. And he has a found family in us. In James specifically. So he’s going to tread lightly around anything that could harm that.”
You bite the inside of your lip. You know you have been let inside some of Sirius’ walls. There were the miscellaneous late nights filled with more vulnerable conversations over the past two years. A particularly horrendous nightmare had brought Sirius to the common room to sit by the dying fire, and you had already been sitting there. You had been unable to sleep with your own anxieties. You snuggled into each other on the couch and talked until Sirius felt okay to go back to sleep. 
Even with that memory in your head, the thing you say is, “So James’ irrationality is why Sirius hasn’t made a move on me?”
“Part of it… but that’s not what you’re taking away from this conversation. There’s more than Prongs in this equation.”
You sigh and rest your chin on your hands. The sun was beginning to set and it reflects beautifully on the lake’s shimmering surface. 
“You’re also in the equation,” Remus reminds you. “Do you like him as more than a friend?”
You can’t help but laugh. 
“Remus John Lupin, I’ve been in love with him since second year.”
The moment you say that, it hits you like a brick wall. The buried emotions all bubble up and you lean back into the tree forcefully. Your head hits the trunk with a soft thud and you groan at the sudden pain. You know that you thought Sirius was cute from the moment you met him but it did take time and a little bit of maturing for you to decide that you liked him in that way. And because he is your brother’s best friend, you kept quiet about it, even to your female friends. Despite playing it off, you were bothered when you heard about him snogging another girl in the corridor. You were bothered when you heard girls giggle about how handsome he was and how they hoped he would give them attention or take them to Hogsmeade. You relish in the fact that out of every one of his friends, he chose to sit next to you in the common room night after night. And you treasured every time he let you see that vulnerable side of him that he kept so well hidden behind his bright smile and boisterous laugh and devil-may-care attitude. 
“If that’s true, why haven’t you made a move?” 
You laugh again, nudging Remus’s shoulder. 
“I thought you were the smart one of the group. He’s James’ best friend. His best friend who has never once shown an inkling of romantic interest in me. Why would I risk that level of embarrassment with someone who is obviously going to be in my life as long as I stay close with James?”
“Do you ever think that maybe he thought the same thing?”
“Rems, I…”
“Love, listen. I can’t tell you what to do. I can’t tell you for certain that he likes you. But I suggest you talk to him. Probably when James isn’t around. And if it comes to it, screw what James thinks. He just cares for you and doesn’t want to see you hurt. You are twins after all.”
You sit in silence for a minute. The crashing waves of the lake fill the air as the sun disappears over the horizon. 
“Rems, thanks for this. But we did miss dinner,” you finally say.
You stand up and hold out a hand to Remus. He takes it with a smile. He grunts as he stands up, like the old man the boys often compare him to.
“You act like we don’t know where the kitchens are…” 
After a quick stop by the kitchens for sandwiches, you enter the common room together. You are greeted by multiple versions of “There you are!” and “I told you they’d be together, I saw them leave Potions together!” It seems as if your disappearance had captured the attention of every sixth year Gryffindor. 
“You missed dinner!” James chides. 
“We grabbed sandwiches,” you say, holding up your almost finished grilled cheese. 
“What were you doing?” His eyes narrow at Remus. 
“Talking?” Remus answers, moving past James to sit by in a chair by the fire. 
You, however, feel frozen with James in front of you and the eyes of many Gryffindors on you. 
“Talking kept you from food?” Marlene asks in disbelief. “Must’ve been some conversation.”
“I’d say it was enlightening,” you say. 
“Did he teach you Lumos?” Peter asks from the couch. 
“Ha,” Remus says dryly. 
“Are you okay?” James asks you in a hushed tone as the non-sixth year Gryffindors slowly turn back to their own conversations. 
“Yes? I just needed to talk to Rem about something private.”
“Something private?” he asks, trying to get more information out of you. “With Moony? Come on, what is going on?”
“Nothing is going on. God forbid a girl talks to her male friends.”
“If nothing is going on, then tell me what you were talking about.”
“You are not privy to my every conversation,” you snap.
“I am a bit when it’s with one of my best mates.”
“Your best mates are also some of my best mates, James. Learn to share.”
Your voices were increasing in volume.
“Do I need to talk to him too?” James asks, placing a hand on your shoulder which you immediately shrug off. 
“No! And I never asked you to talk to Sirius!”
Sirius looks from Remus to you to James at the mention of his name. 
“You asked if you were…”
“I asked for information. That’s all. And you have the audacity to tell him to stay away from me?”
“I’m protecting you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” you spit. “And if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be from your friends.” You look over at the boys and then back at James. “If anyone needs protecting from the people you call your best mates, then you need to reevaluate the kind of company you keep.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Let me get hurt.”
You give James one last nasty look before finally being able to move your feet. You disappear into the girls’ dorms. As you walk away, you can feel eyes watching your every move. Apparently if you argue with your brother loudly, the common room is forced to give you all of their attention. Once out of sight, James collapses on the couch, refusing to look at anyone. Lily, Marlene and Mary watch James sit down and then follow you up the stairs. Lily hesitates a moment before knocking on the door to your shared dorm. 
“Lovie?” she called softly as she opened the door a crack. “Potter!”
The door creaks loudly as it opens wider. You had changed out of your uniform and into muggle clothes. You are sitting on your bed, lacing up your heavy boots with a small bag next to you.
“Going somewhere?” Marlene asks. She is the first of the girls to enter the room.
“I need to clear my head.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Lily asks, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle.
“Heard about some poachers gathering in the forest. And if I can’t find them, I’ll find some trolls or dugbogs or something.”
“And you plan on going alone?”
You shoot the girls a warning look. “Yes. Evans, if you threaten detention, make it for Thursday.”
Lily doesn’t say anything. 
“What did you and Lupin talk about?” Mary inquires, not quite seeing that you aren’t in the mood to talk about that yet. 
“Doesn’t. Fucking. Matter.”
You, having finished lacing your boots, grab you bag and storm out of the dorm. You have to push past Mary who is still standing in the doorway. Your heavy footsteps silence the common room before you finish descending the stairs. Eyes follow you as you leave the common room. Once out of the portrait, the common room roars to life again. 
“So… what the fuck?” Peter asks, looking at his friends.
“She’s pissed off,” Remus says coolly. “And I’d say for decent reason.”
James gives him an annoyed look.
“That time of the month, is it?”
“Peter, no!” Remus chastises. “She’s just figuring stuff out.”
“Care to share with the class?” James asks. 
“I’d prefer to not spend the next two weeks in the hospital wing so I’ll let her tell you when she’s ready.”
“So we’re going to let her go off like that?” Sirius asks, speaking up for the first time since you and Remus came back. 
“Yes,” Remus and James say at the same time. 
“Like she said, she doesn’t need protection,” Remus says, sending a wary glance to James.
---
Remus was mildly surprised that when he woke up, Sirius wasn’t in his bed. He was, however, less surprised when he found Sirius slumped on the couch in the common room. Remus approached him, ready to wake him up, only to find that Sirius was awake. His hair was slightly frizzy and dark bags formed under his eyes. He was still in his disheveled uniform from the day before, having never gone up to their dorm after dinner. 
“Pads?” he says gently. “Were you up all night?”
Sirius looks away from the fire groggily. 
“Huh?” He processes what Remus had asked him. He sits up, his back loudly cracking as he does so. “Yeah. Someone had to wait for Potter to get back.”
“And you didn’t come up when she did?”
Sirius shakes his head before running a hand through his curls.
“She didn’t, Moons. She didn’t come back.”
Remus’ eyes go wide.
“No, surely she came back. You must’ve drifted asleep at some point.”
“She didn’t. I was awake the whole time.”
Remus sits next to his friend, placing a hand on his knee. “Maybe she got back recently and just went straight to breakfast? How ‘bout we go get some, yeah?”
“Let me change,” Sirius mutteres, giving Remus a tired look.
He doesn’t move for a minute. His brain feels too fuzzy and wired at the same time. Convincing his legs to support his weight as he eventually stands up is more of a task than he anticipates. He is quick in getting ready for the day in their dorm. He doesn’t understand how James is still asleep, or how he had slept at all when you weren’t in the castle for all they knew. Sirius ties his hair back and looks at his reflection with his fresh uniform on. Despite his attempts to make himself look presentable, not having slept at all and being filled with worry makes him look exhausted, which is how he felt. He just doesn’t want to show it. He sighs and returns to Remus. 
Sirius watches the Great Hall door as he slowly eats some breakfast. He drinks some coffee that Remus pushed towards him, saying something along the lines of needing caffeine if he was planning on making it through the day. When the girls sit down, they confirm that you hadn't been in their dorm that morning and your bed looked unslept in. Sirius groans. The girls exchange curious looks. 
Palpable concern and worry finally reaches the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors when they are all sat in Charms and you still weren't there. 
“You’re certain that she didn’t come back and just made her bed when she got up?” James asks Marlene.
“Positive. All of her school things were still there. The bed hadn’t been touched.”
“And since when does she make her bed?” Lily asks. 
Halfway through class, you enter the room. All eyes turn to look at you. You have multiple bandages over your body, looking freshly applied. You hand Professor Flitwick a note and take your spot next to Mary. You don’t say anything to all the Gryffindors staring at you. You just open your book to the same page as Mary and turn to look at the professor, hoping he’d continue his lesson where he left off. 
“Where have you been?” Mary whispers, not looking at you.
“Forest. And then hospital wing,” you reply nonchalantly. 
“Did you sleep?”
“No. I’ll be fine,” you assert. “Now shush.”
After Charms ends, the Gryffindors surround you so you can’t slip away to your next class. You avoid making eye contact with any of them as you gather your things and attempt to push through them. 
“Going into the forest at night is one thing,” Lily chides. “Not coming back until halfway through the first lesson of the day is another.”
“Okay, mum,” you say shortly, still trying to push through the group.
“Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” James asks.
You glare at him. “Certainly not to you.”
“You look like you barely came back in one piece!” he exclaims. “I’m shocked Pomfrey let you leave the hospital wing.”
A wicked glint shines in your eyes. “Oh, she didn’t. I just left.”
“Potter!” Mary gasps.
“Macdonald!” you mimic with an eye roll. “If you lot don’t get out of my way, I’ll be late for Ancient Runes and I’m already on thin ice with Raltmole.”
You finally push through the group and leave them in the Charms classroom. They exchange frustrated looks before following you out. They split up for their respective classes, Remus and Lily following you towards the Ancient Runes classroom. 
“Did you find the poachers you were looking for?” Lily asks tentatively once they sit on either side of you. 
You nod. “And then some. The hippogriffs they had weren’t happy to be freed.”
“Did you bow to them?” Remus asks.
“No? Was I supposed to?”
“Yes!” Remus breathes.
You hum and spin your quill in your fingers. “Now I know for next time.”
Professor Raltmole gathers the class’ attention and begins her lecture. Remus takes a ratty piece of parchment from his bookbag and scrawls a short note on it before sliding it across the desk toward you. 
Padfoot waited up for you
You quickly read it, write a response and slide it back.
Is that why he looks like living death?
He didn’t sleep because you were gone
You crumple the paper when you get it back from Remus. You shove it in your pocket, away from Lily’s view. 
“I’ll talk to him later,” you hiss to Remus.
An angry Madam Pomfrey yells at you in front of most of the castle at lunch for sneaking out of the hospital wing when you were clearly still in need of tending to. An excuse of not wanting to miss more class seemed to ward her off, but you feel the nurse’s frustrated gaze on you for the rest of the meal. Mary and Marlene ask you about the poachers you dueled as you walked to your next class. You recount a watered down version of the previous night’s events for them. You make sure that your injuries still make sense but their severity less. The girls are simply impressed and less concerned for their friend. 
You are happy when the second half of the day is more concentrated on schoolwork rather than what you had gotten up to last night. You didn’t want to keep reliving being outnumbered by the poachers and just barely getting out without being too injured. The fear in the hippogriffs’ eyes haunted you. It reminds you that what you did was right, but they had still attacked you after you unlocked their cages. Sitting at dinner, you gently touch the bandage on her face and wince. 
“If it hurts, you probably shouldn’t touch it,” Lily says. “Or go see Pomfrey again. I’m sure she’d love to patch you up more.”
“Going back is admitting defeat,” you say definitively. 
You wouldn’t go back, not even when your bandages need to be replaced. You know that the boys have plenty of bandages in their dorm and you could use some of those. You worried that Pomfrey would handcuff you to a cot and place a charm on it so you couldn’t escape. You were determined to not be held captive to the nurse. 
You fold gravy into your mashed potatoes until they turn a gross shade of pale brown. Your whole body had started to ache during the last lesson of the day. The pain is stronger than your hunger and all you want to do now is sleep. However, you weren’t dumb. Your friends would have cursed you into next week, or at least taken you to Madam Pomfrey, if you hadn’t shown up to dinner. You sigh as the plates in the middle of the table clear and replenish with desserts. Nothing looks appetizing. You force yourself to swallow some of the potatoes so you could claim that you did have some dinner. After a few bites, you resume swirling the soft mush around your plate. 
“Darling, you done?” Marlene asks, standing up across from you. 
You look up, noticing that a fair amount of students had already left the Great Hall. 
“I guess so,” you say. 
You walk back to the Gryffindor Tower in silence. Marlene seems to read your body language, which says you aren’t in the mood to talk anymore. Your face has a hardened look to it with your arms crossed over your chest. After giving the password, Marlene makes sure to hold open the portrait for you so it doesn't close on you. 
You would be lying if you said you didn’t smile a little when you saw Sirius sitting on the couch with no one else. Marlene heads for the girls’ stairs, half expecting you to follow her up. Instead, you make a beeline for the couch and lay down, your head resting in Sirius’ lap.
“Hey Black,” you say, looking up at him.
“Aren’t you exhausted?” he asks, looking down at you. “I think you got as much sleep as I did last night.”
“So Remus says,” you reply. 
Sirius twirls some of your hair around his finger, something he had done hundreds of times before. Only this time, you see it as something more tender, all thanks to what Remus had said the day prior. It sent off butterflies in your stomach.
“Must’ve been some conversation you two had yesterday,” Sirius mumbles. “What else would keep you out so late?”
You scoff. “James being a prat. But it was some conversation. I think I needed to hear it.”
Sirius’ expression softens. 
“What did you need to hear?”
“It was… a reality check.” 
You pause, studying the look on his face. You are vaguely aware of the other people in the common room, but the way Sirius is looking at you could’ve convinced you that you were the only one in the entire castle with those grey eyes. Without saying anything to each other, you feel as if the only things you can hear are your breathing and the muted crackling of the fire not far from you. You reach up and tuck a curl behind his ear, revealing his multiple piercings that he’d gotten over the years. You notice his breathing hitch as your hand gently grazes his face. You smile at him. 
“So between the reality check and Mr. Bitchiness himself, I needed to clear my head.”
Sirius shakes his head with a soft chuckle.
“I think you should find a way to clear your head that doesn’t involve barely coming back in one piece, Potter.”
“I thought you called me pumpkin.”
“I thought you hated being called that.”
“I do, but I let you get away with it.” You gently poke the tip of his nose playfully. Your gaze briefly flicks to his lips before returning to his eyes. “You’re… special.” 
“That doesn’t look like a meter,” James’ voice calls, bringing you back into the noise of the common room. 
You can see your brother standing over the two of you behind the couch. His face isn’t quite murderous, but it was getting there. 
“She’s exhausted and in pain and you come swooping in?” James accuses Sirius. “I thought I told you to give her space.”
You sit up and glare at James, the tenderness of the moment with Sirius evaporated.
“Excuse you,” you say, a disgusted snarl creeping up on your face. “He did no such swooping. And you can’t tell people to stay away from me.”
“I’m your brother! It’s my job to keep people away from you,” he says, giving his friend a sour look. “Especially when I think they have immoral intentions.”
“Have you considered that I’m the one who came to him and not the other way around?” 
“Why would you?”
You blink. “Because he’s my friend?”
“He’s my friend,” James says.
You can’t stop yourself. You slap James across the face. You feel your own face burning and tears beginning to brim in your eyes. 
“I see you didn’t learn anything from last night, you git,” you spit at him. 
You stand up, leaving Sirius alone on the couch. He watches in silence as you turn to leave the common room. You slam the portrait behind you, earning a scolding from the Fat Lady about respect. The common room remains silent as Sirius looks up at James.
“Prongs, I swear, she came to me,” he says. “I was sitting here and she came to me. She walked in with Marlene long after we came back from dinner.”
“Whatever, Pads. Just keep your distance from her, like you said you would.”
Sirius lets his lips form a thin line as he looks away from James and back to the fire. Technically, he had never said he would keep away from you. James had just insisted on it. James sighs heavily, glancing at the portrait hole. He is glad that you didn’t go upstairs to change and grab whatever you would need to go out again, but you leaving in such a fury wasn’t ideal either. He turns and goes back up to their dorm. When Remus sees how upset James is, he immediately goes to check in on Sirius, letting Peter work on calming James down. 
Remus sits on the other side of the couch. Sirius is radiating an energy that said he needed a little bit of space around him. 
“Padfoot,” Remus says, speaking tentatively. “What just happened? Why is Prongs in a huff again?”
“He’s accusing me of trying to defile her when she’s not in her right mind.”
Remus isn’t a fan that Sirius didn’t look at him when he talked. He didn’t want his friend to stay up all night staring into the fire again. 
“Where is she?”
Sirius shrugs. “Slapped Prongs and left.”
Remus raised his eyebrows and leaned toward Sirius. 
“She slapped him?” he asks, trying to hold in some laughter. “Honestly, someone needed to and it’s good it came from her. He’ll forgive her.”
“Do you think he’d forgive me?” Sirius asks, his voice barely audible and eyes still not leaving the flickering flames. 
“Forgive you for what?” Remus asks cautiously. “Did you… defile her?”
Sirius scoffs. “No, Merlin… But… fuck. Nevermind.”
Remus scoots to the middle cushion of the couch. He places a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius looks away from the fire. His cheeks are dusted with a faint blush. 
“Padfoot, be honest with me. How do you feel about her?” 
Remus’ voice is soft. It has a sense of pleading to it, as if begging Sirius to admit something he doesn’t want to, as if begging him to be more vulnerable in the middle of the common room than he has ever been before. Sirius just shakes his head with a frown.
“That doesn’t matter.”
With a harsh sigh, Remus tries again. “Prongs doesn’t matter right now. How do you, Padfoot, Sirius Orion Black, feel about her?”
“Like she is the most precious thing.” He closes his eyes and turns his face toward the fire again. “But Prongs does matter. So how I feel doesn’t. I need his friendship more than I need a relationship.”
Remus gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 
“Imagine if everything went right though… You and Prongs could legally be brothers.”
Sirius coughs in surprise at his words. Of course, he had thought about it from time to time. James was his brother in practically all ways except literally. You, being alluring as you were, were something different. You weren't a sister to him. What he feels for you isn’t what he would feel for a sister and it is certainly more than anything he has felt for any other girl. 
“Think about it, Pads, yeah?” Remus suggests, giving his shoulder another squeeze. “You think Wormtail has calmed Prongs down enough for it to be safe to go back up there?”
Remus glances toward the stairs. Then he looks back at Sirius, who has opened his eyes but stares absently at the hearth. 
“You said she left the common room? You don’t think she’ll be gone all night again, do you?” Remus questions, his voice having more concern than before. 
“She’ll be back… Although it might be better if I’m not down here when she returns…”
---
You spend the rest of the week avoiding James. You put as many people in between you as possible when you have to be near him. If he tries to talk to you, you either ignore him or speak to him through someone else. It pisses him off. You also take to avoiding the common room, being that he was often there. For once, you find yourself being furious that Remus and Sirius were James’ friends first and yours second.
Marlene sits down in the library at the same table as you, Mary and Lily. You are working on various assignments, books littering the tables. Marlene clears a small section for her to get out her own work. She shoots a wary look toward you.
“Black’s back on his bullshit,” she says, watching you for a reaction that you don’t give her. 
You keep your eyes on your Ancient Runes assignment.
“Who’s he snogging now?” Lily asks. She knows someone has to buy into the bait.
“Charity Burbage.”
“Didn’t realize she was his type…” Mary mutters. “Isn’t she a few years younger?”
“Fourth year, but she’s… mature if you know what I mean,” Marlene answers, giving her own breasts a squeeze.
“Alright, we get your point,” Lily says, cutting her off. “Remember that we’re here to do homework, right?”
You just scoff and keep working. Hearing that Sirius was off snogging a busty fourth year rubbed you the wrong way. You keep thinking back to what Sirius had said and what Remus had told you about him. You think about how Sirius had been the one waiting up for you to come back that night you got into the fight with James. You don’t want to imagine Sirius sucking face with a younger girl, but the image keeps appearing in your mind. It makes your blood boil. 
“Potter, you good?” Mary whispers from across the table.
You look up at Mary and then back down at your paper. There were various splotches of ink where you had been holding your quill and lightly tapping it. You sighed in annoyance. 
“Guess Raltmole is getting subpar work again,” you groan. 
You look over at the assignment sheet again and force a smile. At least you were on the last question. Once you answer it, you could make an excuse to leave. You hurriedly finish and begin putting your stuff away.
“I’ll see you lot later.”
“Going back to the common room?” Lily asks, not looking up from her own assignment. 
“Yeah,” you lie. You had no intention of going back to Gryffindor Tower and risk running into James. 
You make your way up to the astronomy tower. As you climb the stairs, hot tears sting in your eyes and begin to fall. You have never been so glad to find the tower completely empty. You sit down near the edge of the platform. The cold air feels nice as you feel like you are overheating. Your mind is spinning with thoughts of Sirius. You hate that you had admitted to Remus that you had been harboring feelings for Sirius for years and everything you had buried so deep inside of you had been brought back to the surface. You hate that your friends feel the need to bring up whoever they saw Sirius kissing. 
As you look over the horizon, lost in your thoughts, you hear a string of swears from the stairs. You don’t look to see who it was. It isn’t a Gryffindor and that’s all that really matters to you at this moment. When the boy reaches the top of the stairs, he immediately spots you at the edge of the platform. He swears again, having hoped the tower would be empty, but then he notices you shuddering and hears your sniffles. 
“Is this where everyone goes when they’re upset?” Barty Crouch Jr. asks, taking a step towards you, unsure of how you felt about having company. He had wanted to be alone so maybe you did too.
You turn your head to look at him. Your face is flushed and eyes red. Tears streak your face. Barty decides that you look too pitiful to leave alone. He sits down next to you, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the platform and leaning backwards. 
“Misery loves company, doesn’t it?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you.
You smiled softly, although it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Depends on the company you keep.”
“Well, I came up here to be alone.” He kicks his legs in the open air. “But you’re not a Slytherin so I’ll give you a chance.”
“And you’re not a Gryffindor so I won’t ask you to leave.”
He chuckles and gives you a half smile. “Lions and snakes can be too much from time to time.”
“You can say that again. … What’d they do to you?”
“Evan… He’s hiding something from me and it’s not good. He needs to let me in, but it’s hard to convince him when everyone, Black, Snape, Avery, Wilkes, tells me to drop it. God forbid I try to be involved in my boyfriend’s life…” Barty sighs. “Everyone ganged up on me, even Pandora.”
“Didn’t know you and Evan… Rosier?” 
“Yeah, Rosier. We don’t make it a habit to snog in the corridors like the other Black.”
You grimace. The other Black was your issue. 
“What?”
“The other Black…”
Barty’s eyes widen. “You and him? I thought I heard he was…”
“We’re not,” you cut him off. “Which is why I’m up here.”
“I need a distraction from Ev… What’s up with that little blood traitor?”
You glare at Barty. “I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to be like that.”
“Sorry, habit. What’s the other Black up to?”
You shake your head and adjust so your legs hang over the edge too. You sniffle again and blink away tears that threaten to stream down your face again.
“How am I supposed to know if he likes me if I keep hearing that he’s going into a broom closet with a new girl every other day?”
“You like him?” Barty asks. “Of course you do. Just about every girl has a fantasy about him.”
You scoff. “Every girl… Yeah. That’s part of the problem. He all but told me that I’m the reason he’s snogging every girl in our year. And yours. And then some.”
“You’re the reason?”
“Something like James would kill him if he touched me so he touches everyone else.” You roll your eyes and lean forward into the metal railing. “And then Remus goes off and says he’s fairly certain that Sirius really does like me in the way I like him. And James constantly acting like I need protection from his friends. And every time I think I’ve collected myself and reburied my feelings for Black, Marlene and Mary come around and talk about who they saw him with.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid.”
“Your stupid problem is better than thinking about mine. I know Ev will be cooled off when I get back and we’ll be fine. Your problem is… more.”
“Do the Slytherins think Sirius has some checklist of every girl he needs to snog before graduation?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Not that I know of, but I’m around Reg a lot and we don’t talk about his brother in front of him unless we have a death wish.” He pauses. “Poor wording because some of us do… We don’t talk about him.”
“Hmm… It’s definitely a topic among Gryffindors. Obviously.”
“He’d never be able to finish it.”
You give him a confused look as you sniffle again. 
“You and that redhead. The one your brother and Snape are obsessed with.”
You laugh softly. “Yeah, Lily would never kiss Sirius. Even for a dare. She’d rather do just about anything else.”
“And I call that a success!” Barty says with a smile. “Got the crying girl to laugh.”
“That you did…”
“May regret asking this, but what set you off? Why are you here now? Sounds like you’re just eternally pining.”
“Marlene said she saw Black snogging Burbage.”
“She’s younger than me.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Gross.”
“Yeah.” You sigh and feel tears fall again. 
Your mind keeps telling you it was stupid to be jealous over a silly fourth year, but it was unfair. Barty notices you starting to cry again.
“Come here,” he says as he puts his arm around you. 
While he and Evan would fight, he hoped they would never make each cry like this. The girl he had only ever seen as a force to be reckoned with was reduced to a puddle of emotions. You rest your head on Barty’s shoulder. It gives you a little bit of comfort to be hurting with someone else.
---
“She’s where with who?” James yells in their dorm. 
When the girls had returned from the library and asked if you were in their room, they were met with confused stares from the boys. They hadn’t seen you since dinner and they had been in the common room all evening. While the girls shared looks of minor confusion, the boys shared looks of worry. The boys had immediately gone up to their dorm and opened the map. Each scanned a different section, looking for your name.
“She’s in the astronomy tower with Junior,” Peter repeats. 
“Is she trying to get herself killed?”
“You seem far more concerned about her being with Junior than you did with her going off to fight poachers,” Sirius mutters, going to sit on his bed. 
James turns to glare at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Just questioning what, or who, you think counts as dangerous.”
“You damn well know that Junior is dangerous,” James growls. 
“Oh, I do know that, Prongs. But I’m not. I’m not a threat to her.”
“We aren’t talking about this right now, Padfoot. She is actually in danger right now!” 
“Should we be concerned that their names aren’t moving?” Peter asks, still looking at the map. “Neither one has even shifted so they aren’t walking around or nothing.”
The two boys look over at Peter, anger fading from their faces and being replaced with fear and concern. 
“That’s it. I’m going to get her,” James announces, moving for the door before Remus stops him.
“Like hell you are,” he says firmly. “In case you’re more dense than I think you are, you’re not her favorite person right now. I don’t think it’s wise that you go.”
“Then who’s going to go? Can’t really ask Lily to go fetch her without explaining the map.”
“Padfoot, you go see if she’s okay,” Remus decides. “Just… don’t overreact to whatever you’re walking into.”
Sirius doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips out of the door behind Remus, shooting James a gloating face. Once the door is closed, Remus lets James go. 
“Tell me how Padfoot is going to handle that situation better than I would,” James demands. 
“First off, you would walk in and blast Junior off the tower. Don’t act like you wouldn’t. And like I said, she is still angry with you. You going would only make things worse between you two,” Remus starts to explain. “Second, it would’ve been best if I went, but then I’d be leaving you and Padfoot alone and I didn’t feel like returning to a blood bath.”
James frowns, although he could see the logic behind Remus’ actions. He doesn’t need to ask why they didn’t send Peter; he didn’t have what it might take to get you away from Barty if it came to that. 
Sirius’ stomach churns when he sees Barty’s arm around you. You appear to be willingly leaning into his side. You are sitting at the edge of the platform, legs hanging over the edge and resting against the bars. Keeping quiet as he lingers in the doorway, he can hear you having a whispered conversation. You were sniffling. After a few minutes of watching them and feeling sick, Sirius makes his presence known.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he says softly, causing both of them to jump at the sound of his voice. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
Barty glares at Sirius. They had never gotten along, especially with Barty being one of Regulus’ closer friends. 
“Piss off, Black. We’re having a conversation,” he spits, still holding onto you although it was a looser grip. 
You had turned your body and propped one of your legs up on the platform. You wipe your nose and sniffle. Now that you were looking at Sirius, he could see that your eyes were red and puffy from crying. 
“Everyone can piss off, actually,” you say, voice shaky. “They can handle a night without me.”
You let your leg fall back over the edge as you turn back to looking over the horizon. Barty follows suit. Sirius walks closer to you and sits down only a short distance away, resting his back against a pillar. 
“Well, I’m not going back without you. So, carry on. I’ll walk you back when you’re ready.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head, not that Sirius saw either. 
“Black, I would’ve thought by now you’d be able to tell when you aren’t wanted,” Barty says, venom dripping from his words. “Get out of here before I make you.”
“Last I checked, she was more my friend than yours,” Sirius replies. 
“Guess you haven’t checked recently.”
Sirius narrows his eyes at Barty as his arm pulls her waist closer to his. 
“Guess fate is being extra cruel tonight,” Barty mutters to you and you nod in agreement. “I’m going to be fine, but are you?”
“Eventually, I assume,” you say. “I just feel defeated, and that doesn’t help.” 
“What did I do?” Sirius asks, knowing that he was what you were referring to.
You and Barty look over at him. 
“The fact that you have to ask…” you sigh with a sniffle. 
“Do you want me to go?” Barty asks.
“Yes,” Sirius answers.
“I wasn’t asking you, Black,” Barty snarls. “Potter? I’m not leaving you with him unless you ask me to.”
Sirius gapes at Barty. The Slytherin seemed genuinely concerned to leave you alone with Sirius, someone you had been alone with many times before. He doesn’t understand why people weren’t trusting him to be around one of his friends. He didn’t think he had done anything to earn that. 
“Stay,” you say.
The one word hits Sirius hard. He feels like he is going to throw up. In what world would you be asking Barty Crouch Jr. to stay? 
“What the hell, love?” Sirius asks. 
You shoot him a hurt look. “Burbage? Really?”
He groans and runs a hand through his hair.
“Is that what this is about? I thought we talked about this.”
You let out a cold and empty laugh. “We talked about this? No. You were just incredibly cryptic about some feelings you may or may not have as you let James run your life.”
“So you get with Crouch?”
You and Barty look at each other and make faces of disgust before slightly pushing away from each other, as if suddenly becoming aware of how close they actually were. 
“We… no. Absolutely not,” you stutter.
“I don’t… I’m taken,” Barty says. 
“He is,” you confirm with a nod.
You scoot back from the ledge, still sitting much closer to Barty than you were to Sirius. Barty does the opposite, leaning further over the railing and slumping like a rag doll. Sirius looks from one to the other. 
“Then what is this?”
“One upset person comforting another?” Barty offers.
“And you’re upset?” Sirius challenges, not quite believing him.
“You don’t seem upset nor are you comforting Potter. So that would leave me being the other upset person. Yes.”
“Whatever. Darling, can we go?”
“No?”
“Hey, come on.”
“No.” 
Barty gives you a wary look. Then he stands up, moving slowly toward the door.
“I’m going… to go. You two… need to talk.”
“Barty, no,” you plead. Your eyes looked ready to cry again. “Please, stay.”
“No, bye bye Barty,” Sirius says, standing up. 
Sirius claps Barty on the shoulder, walks him to the doorway and makes sure he leaves. Then he walks over to you and holds out his hand. 
“Come on, darling. Let’s go.”
You don’t take his hand. You spin where you sit to face away from him. Whenever he moved to be in front of you, you’d spin again. You know you are acting like a stubborn child, but you feel that you’ve earned that. He allows you to act like this for a few minutes before he gest tired of it.
“Pumpkin, come on. If you don’t come with me, I’ll have to go back and James will come get you.”
You make a disgruntled face and finally take Sirius’ hand. 
“What did Junior mean by we need to talk?” Sirius asks as you walk toward the stairs. 
“The Marauders need to get their shit together,” you say, not looking back at him and starting to descend the stairs. 
Sirius follows you, picking up his speed to stay just one step behind you.
“So it’s not just me?”
You stop abruptly. Sirius bumps into you and you have to grab onto the railing to stop yourself from falling.
“Prongs needs to keep himself in check. He needs to stay in his lane. Moony needs to stop getting a girl’s hopes up. You need to go after that one girl you like and stick to her. I’m tired of hearing about a new girl’s tongue down your throat every day.” You pause. You had brought their friend group’s name into it so you had to name everyone. “Wormtail… uh, needs to be less of an idiot. Get him a real sense of humor or something.”
“And you told Junior all of that?”
“Yes.”
You walk the rest of the way back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Sirius isn’t sure what to say that would make you feel better so he settles on silence. You still sniffled a few times, but they were getting less frequent. You seem to be more furious now than sad, which was something of a win. When you enter the common room, you both keep walking to your individual dorms. You go straight to bed, closing the curtains around so that no one will bother you. Sirius is met with James, Remus and Peter anxiously waiting. 
“Took you damn long enough,” James says as soon as Sirius walks through the doors. “What did that bastard do to her?”
“Gee, no Thanks Padfoot, thanks for getting my sister back safe and sound?” Sirius mocks. His mind is still stuck on what you had said to him about all of them. He sighs. “If what they both said is true, they simply talked. She was crying; he comforted her.”
“What was she crying about?” Peter asks. 
Sirius makes eye contact with Remus. It seems like Remus knew immediately what she was crying about, but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of James.
“Coudn’t get it out of her,” he lies. 
---
You follow the girls around Hogsmeade on Saturday. You don’t really care where the group goes and you are able to mostly drown out their conversations. Your brain is empty. It is easier for it to be empty than to think about everything that made you cry the previous night. 
Mary, Lily, Marlene and her girlfriend, Dorcas, carry their own conversations and manage to stick together as a group all day. They don’t seem to notice that you are in your head. They just make sure that you are still tagging along, not left behind anywhere. 
“It’s good to get out of the castle for a good, safe time,” Mary had told you this morning when she insisted that you come instead of rotting in bed all day as you had planned to. 
The group is heading back into Hogsmeade Square from Dogwood and Deathcap when they run into the Marauders in the cemetery. No one questions why they were messing around the tombs. With them, it is better to just accept it and move on with your day. The boys insist that they all go to the Three Broomsticks and end their day with as many butterbeers as they could drink. You, being determined to not talk to any of the boys, pinch the bridge of your nose as the girls enthusiastically agree. Lily hangs back as the boys lead the way to the pub.
“We could probably sneak back to the castle,” Lily mutters to you as you follow the group at a short distance. 
“So you’re delusional,” you reply. “James will most certainly notice you’re gone.” 
“They would notice you’re gone too… Don’t think I haven’t taken note of how quiet you’ve been.”
“I didn’t want to come here in the first place,” you hiss. 
Lily reaches out to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers. “Well, we can suffer through butterbeers together. And then rot in our beds tomorrow.” 
“Lily Evans doesn’t rot,” you snort.
You allow the girl to pull you into the Three Broomsticks after your friends. They somehow managed to push two tables together to accommodate their large group, which is an impressive feat given how busy the pub always was when students visited the village in troves. It doesn’t take long for Madam Rosmerta to get foaming mugs of butterbeer in front of everyone. The group sat divided by gender at the table. You made sure to sit on the same side of the table as James so if you accidentally looked down the table, you had a near impossible chance of making eye contact with him. It helped that he was at the complete opposite end of the table. Although Lily had said you would be suffering through butterbeers together, she is quickly engulfed into an animated conversation with Dorcas, Remus and Peter. Mary and Marlene were listening intently, but didn’t offer much to the conversation. James and Sirius appeared to be in their own world at their end of the table. You were content ignoring everyone’s conversations. 
You slowly sip on your drink, looking around the pub. A handful of Slytherins are sitting at a table in the corner. You somehow manage to catch Barty’s eye and you share a small smile. Next to him sat the blond Evan Rosier and he was throwing back drinks and laughing loudly. You could see what Barty saw in him. There was a certain lightness to him. 
“Mind if I sit here?” a voice asks, bringing your attention to a boy standing at the end of the table with a chair in hand. 
“What?”
You recognize him from classes. Davey Something, Ravenclaw. You never really paid him any attention. 
“Can I sit here? All my friends went back to the castle already.”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Davey, right?” you ask, pulling your mug closer to you.
He sits kitty corner to you, despite there being empty space across from you. You assume that he didn’t know that no one was sitting there. 
“That’s my name,” he replies with a smile. 
He glances down the table to the rest of the Gryffindors and Dorcas. None of them seem to notice or care that someone new has joined their table. 
“Anything interesting going on in Gryffindor Tower lately?” Davey asks, returning his gaze to you. “Most interesting thing to happen in Ravenclaw is a fourth year beat a seventh year in Wizards’ Chess.”
You chuckle and take a sip of your butterbeer.
“Oh, there is always something happening in our tower,” you say. “I slapped James. Argued with him in front of the entire common room. Sirius pulled an all-nighter for no reason. He’s also been snogging anything that moves in a skirt.”
Davey’s smile dips slightly. “Been snogging you?”
“No,” you say with an eye roll, before chuckling as you continue. “James banned him from being within a meter of me for that very reason.”
“That what you argued with him about?”
“Part of it. He’s been acting like I can’t handle myself. Like I had a simple chat with Remus and James threw a fit.”
“He got pissy because you were hanging out with his mates?”
“Yes! That’s also why he got slapped. Those were two different days…” You pause as you glance down the table. “And from what I can tell, he’s still on his bullshit.”
“Definitely is bullshit,” Davey agrees. His brilliant blue eyes looked deep into your eyes. “I think the whole castle knows how capable you are at handling yourself.”
“Do I really have a reputation of more than being the female Potter?” you ask, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, darling, you do.”
“Tell me about it.”
You take a drink of your butterbeer, draining it. Rosmerta is quick to bring around another one and one for Davey as well. You hadn’t noticed that he didn’t have a mug in front of him previously. 
“If you didn’t have Sirius or James as your perpetual dueling partners, you’d have trouble finding one in Defense class. You’re.. too good. It’s almost scary.”
You smile widely with a faint blush on your cheeks. You knew you were good at dueling. That’s why you went off to fight poachers when you knew where they were and didn’t bother buying potion ingredients that could be gathered if you ventured a little further than teachers normally approved. You had also been told by many teachers that you were exceptional at dueling, but hearing from a decently cute boy did something to your ego. 
“From what I’ve heard, you’re amazing in every subject. We don’t have many together anymore. But when we were younger, I remember seeing you taunt James whenever you got a better grade than he did… which was pretty often.”
“What’s the point of having a twin if you can’t be better than him,” you laugh. 
“Are you better than him at quidditch?”
You groan at that question. “No…”
“Darn. I was hoping you could make the Gryffindor team better.”
You lightly hit Davey’s shoulder playfully.
“Gryffindor is a damn good team!”
“Your seeker is trash!”
You take a second to think about who your seeker is. 
“Isn’t he a second year? Cut the kid some slack!”
Davey laughs. “But if he’s the best that tried out? I’m doubting the captain’s skills.”
“Too bad that isn’t a James diss. For some reason he wasn’t made captain this year, but he was last year. Quidditch politics baffle me.”
“I’d try to explain them, but I think they differ by house.”
“You’re not on Ravenclaw’s team?”
“I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have friends who are.”
“James likes to make it his entire personality so I’ve become fairly good at tuning it all out. There are better things to focus on.”
“Yeah? What captures your pretty little brain?”
“During the summer and over breaks, I’m a top-tier chef and baker. I honestly don’t know what my parents eat while we’re at school because I literally make every meal when I’m home.”
“You cook? Isn’t that what house elves are for?”
“Not everyone has, or needs, an elf,” you say firmly. “But, like, cooking is good for distracting my brain. Although I could be better in Potions…”
“You’re in N.E.W.T. level Potions. I’m sure you’re fine,” Davey assures you, placing his hand over yours on the table. “What else do you do besides dueling, cooking and looking beautiful?”
You feel yourself blush more. 
“Merlin, this sounds nerdy, but I really do love learning about obscure magic. Haven’t gotten my hands on any good books yet this year because they are usually deep in the Restricted Section and Pince has been watching it like a hawk.”
“Obscure magic? Very Ravenclaw of you.”
You were trying to not look at his hand that was still on yours. His gaze is fixed intently on you. You have all of his attention.
“I plan on either being an Auror or an Unspeakable after school so a deep understanding of magic is important.” 
“Look at you. Big ambitions.”
You look down at your empty mugs. You aren’t entirely sure when either of you had finished your drinks but apparently you had. You cast a quick glance down the table as well. You don’t know why you are relieved that no one was paying attention to you, all completely engulfed in one large conversation now. 
“Want to get out of here?” you ask, looking back to Davey.
He smiles widely at your suggestion. He stands up and pulls out your chair to help you up.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he whispers into your ear. “Lead the way.”
You take Davey’s hand and you head for the door. You make sure to bump into James’ chair. 
“Oops,” you say with a giggle before pulling Davey out of the pub into the autumn evening. 
James and Sirius watch you leave with equal looks of distaste.
“Where’s she going?” Sirius asks.
“Better yet, who the fuck is she with?” James follows up. 
The rest of the table turns to look but the door has already closed behind you. Despite wanting to follow them, Sirius and James return their attention to the group’s discussion about whether the foul smelling liquid from Gobbstones would cover up the smell of Amortentia. They hadn’t discussed the potion in class yet, but they had heard of the powerful love potion. 
You and Davey walk around Hogsmeade, weaving in between buildings. There’s easy conversation between you, nothing too deep or heavy. You can tell by the way he looks at you and lets his touch linger that he’s looking for something more, but conversation feels so platonic. It feels like two acquaintances getting to know each other, which is what it was. You can’t deny that Davey’s attractive, but there’s no draw to him besides a little bit of attention and maybe some revenge aimed at Sirius and James. You find yourself in the garden outside of the village, walking up to the platform that overlooks the Black Lake. The distant glow of Hogsmeade lights it up just right so it feels far more romantic. As you lean over the ledge, you wonder if Sirius’ method of snogging someone else helps you get over them. Looking at Davey, or his lip if you’re being precise, you debate giving it a shot. 
Then there’s a burst of noise that makes both of you jump and look over your shoulders. You can barely see the Three Broomsticks and the herd of people leaving it. It isn’t hard to tell that they are arguing. You can pick out James, Sirius, Lily and Dorcas’ voices. Both of you stare for a moment before looking back at each other. 
“What do you think happened after we left?” he asks. 
You shrug. “Not sure.”
“Don’t be rash!” Lily yells.
“I’m going to kill him!”
“James! Slow down!” Dorcas yells.
“When I find them, I’m going to kill him!” 
“And I’m helping!” Sirius adds.
“Like hell you are,” James resorts.
“There!” Marlene exclaims, her voice sounding more cheerful than the others. 
You turn to look at Davey nervously when you notice that Marlene is pointing in your direction and the group begins running. James and Sirius shrug off Lily and Dorcas’ grips on them as they tried to hold the boys back. The two are in a full on sprint with the rest of the group jogging behind them. It appeared that they came to the conclusion that none of them could outrun them. 
“Gudgeon, step away from her,” James snarls once he reaches the platform. 
Davey raises his eyebrows at your brother. “Why?”
“Because he bloody told you to, you git,” Sirius adds, heaving from running. 
“But why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to fully face them. “He came out here with me.”
“And you’re coming back with us,” James says. “Been a long day, time to go home.”
You hum and look at Davey. 
“I think I want to stay out a little longer.”
Davey smiles widely at you and then looks back at James and Sirius. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he throws an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side.
“You boys heard ‘er. She wants to stay.”
“James,” Lily warns as the rest of the group approaches.
She noticed before you that he had started to reach for his wand. James looks at Lily. 
“Lils, you must-” he starts to say, but then Sirius is ripping Davey’s arm off of you and picking you up to throw you over his shoulder. 
Your yelp of surprise is what cut off James’ excuse to Lily. 
“SIRIUS BLACK, YOU PUT ME DOWN!” you holler, trying to remove yourself from his grip.
“Ready to go?” he simply asks the rest of the group.
“Yeah, I’m good,” James answers, much more calm than he had been moments before. 
Davey watches as Sirius carries you in the direction of the castle, followed by James and the rest of the group. Peter and Remus bring up the rear, shooting him glares for having gone near you. While the girls didn’t seem to approve of how Sirius and James had gone about getting you away from Davey or why they had, they do seem to support getting you back to the castle.
“Sirius, are you going to put me down?” you ask, sounding defeated.
“No.”
“Why’d you leave the group?” Dorcas asks, moving into your line of sight.
“Too loud and hot,” you lie. You weren’t about to say that you were looking for a pretty distraction from the irritation your brother and boy carrying you caused you. 
“Just talk to us next time, yeah? We’ll leave,” James says. “Afterall, you know the buddy system.”
“I had a buddy,” you correct him. “Davey is a just fine buddy.”
“A buddy who just wants to get into your pants,” Marlene sings. 
“Huh?”
“He’s just looking for a quick shag, darling,” Mary clarifies. 
“Which is why we came to your rescue!” Sirius says.
“Rescue or ambush?” you grumble. “Maybe I wanted a quick shag too.”
The rest of the walk back to Hogwarts is quiet. Your ribs have grown sore from being slung over Sirius’ shoulder and your head feels light. At one point, you close your eyes and just listen to the crunching of leaves underfoot. 
“Alright, down you go, pumpkin,” Sirius says as you arrive at the entrance to Hogwarts’ grounds. “Figure you can walk from here.” 
He puts you down gently and all you can do is glare at him. You walk slowly into the grounds and the group takes that as a sign that all is well. 
“Marls, come on. I got something for you in the dungeons,” Dorcas says, grabbing Marlene’s hand and pulling her toward the castle.
The rest of the group follows suit, picking up their pace to get inside the warmth of the castle. You, however, keep your slow pace. You certainly aren’t in the mood to be sitting with them around the fire in the common room after you were literally hauled back. Sirius is the only one who lingers with you. 
“You alright?” he asks quietly, bumping shoulders with you. 
You sigh and look up at him. Damn those grey eyes and how warm they make you feel.
“Just tired of James acting like he controls my life.”
Sirius nods and takes a deep breath. 
“Come with me,” he says and holds out his hand for you to take. 
You hesitate. Your mind is screaming both to take it and to slap it away. How dare he offer his hand to you after being the one to carry you back? But, also, he was offering it to you, giving you the choice to take it. So you do. You take his hand and let him lead you down some stairs to a secluded area near the greenhouses. Light shimmers through their windows, giving the small clearing a subtle glow. 
“I think James would back off you a bit if I stopped listening to him about some things,” Sirius mutters, standing in front of you. A gentle hand tucks some of your hair behind your ear and lingers there for a moment.
He’s looking at you like he did that day on the couch, like you were the only one who existed in all of Hogwarts, in all of the world. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to understand what he was saying. All of your focus was on the hand that softly held your cheek. He takes a step toward you and before you can process anything, his lips are brushing up against yours. It’s soft and gentle and momentary. 
“I think I can tolerate him more if you do that again,” you mumble.
And he does. The second is still soft and gentle, but it lasts longer. It only deepens slightly when he places his other hand on your waist. Sirius is holding you with a featherlight touch like he doesn’t want to break you, but his hand never leaves your cheek. Inside, despite what you just said, he fears that if he lets go, you will disappear and leave him. 
“You could never be a checked box. Because you’re everything,” Sirius whispers.
“Then stop with your stupid list, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
"Good, because I think I like this a little too much."
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undressrehearsal · 1 year ago
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dare to be stupid
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summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)
a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk
part 2
“Truth or dare?” 
It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.
And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 
She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 
You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 
Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 
Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 
You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 
“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 
Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 
Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 
Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 
“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 
Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 
Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 
Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 
There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 
In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 
When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 
You grinned. “$200.” 
Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 
“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”
Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 
You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 
“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 
“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 
You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”
Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 
Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 
Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”
Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 
You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 
Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 
You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 
“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 
“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”
Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 
“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 
Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 
You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 
This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 
“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 
Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 
She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.
“Don’t-” 
“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 
“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 
“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 
“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 
Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 
Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 
“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.
And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 
“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 
You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 
“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 
You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”
You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 
“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 
It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 
So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 
She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 
“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 
And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 
You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 
You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 
You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.”
“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 
For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.
“How would you rate your last kiss?” 
You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 
Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 
“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 
Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 
Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 
Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 
Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 
You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 
“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 
Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 
And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 
You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 
And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 
Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 
Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 
That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 
“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 
And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 
Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 
And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 
Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 
“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 
She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 
The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 
Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 
“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 
“What?” 
“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 
“Truth,” you sighed. 
One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 
You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 
It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 
Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 
This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 
And you decided to play her game. 
“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 
Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 
You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 
She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 
But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 
“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 
You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 
The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.
“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 
Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 
“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 
You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 
She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 
Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 
Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 
You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 
You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 
Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 
“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 
And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 
Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 
Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 
You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 
You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 
And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 
And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 
And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 
Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 
It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 
Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-
A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 
Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 
When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 
The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 
Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 
You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 
Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 
You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”
The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 
Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 
You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 
When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 
Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 
You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 
Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 
“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 
She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.
You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 
You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.
Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 
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satorusugurugurl · 10 months ago
Text
JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time
Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento
Word Count: 2,993
A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.
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Gojo Satoru:
The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.
A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.
Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.
The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!
A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.
Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.
Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇
“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.
You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.
“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”
Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.
Today was not one of those days.
In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.
“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”
“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”
“Really?”
“Yep! Laundry!”
“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”
Fuuuuck.
“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”
“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”
The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.
So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.
“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.
“Y-Yeah?”
A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.
Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.
Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.
“I-I don't have any makeup on.”
“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”
His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”
“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.
You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”
“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”
Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.
“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.
“Everything.”
You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.
Choso Kamo:
A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.
Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.
“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.
“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”
“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”
Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.
Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.
What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.
“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.
You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.
“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”
Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.
You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.
“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”
Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”
That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.
You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”
Ryomen Sukuna:
Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.
He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.
In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.
“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.
“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”
Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”
“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.
After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.
“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.
Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”
“Acne scar.”
A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.
“I-I fell off my bike.”
You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.
His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.
“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”
“W-What’s gotten into you?”
The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.
“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”
“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”
Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.
“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.
Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.
“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”
Nanami Kento:
The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.
The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.
Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.
Meaning you didn't have your makeup.
“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.
“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.
Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.
“Your overnight bag?”
“Mhmm.”
Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.
“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”
Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.
The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.
His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.
“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”
Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.
“Kento~”
He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.
Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.
And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.
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fluentmoviequoter · 11 months ago
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Not So Grumpy
Requested Here!
Edit: Read Part 2 Here >
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!pregnant!reader
Summary: Tim is grumpier than usual, and when you decide to visit him at the station, the rookies get an idea of why.
Warnings: pregnant reader. fluff!
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: Softie Tim? Softie (and clingy) Tim. This takes place sometime during seasons 1-2.
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“Don’t start,” Tim says, sitting beside Angela.
“Whoa, okay,” she replies with a laugh. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood.”
“That sounds like starting.”
Angela puts her hands up, smiling as she turns away from Tim. “Chen, good luck.”
Tim rolls his eyes, wishing his mornings could go differently. It’s been several weeks of his persistent bad mood, and everyone who has to deal with him is curious about what’s causing it.
“Bradford, can I- could I maybe get you something?” Lucy offers softly.
“No.”
✯✯✯✯✯
You wake up curled against Tim’s side, his arm extended over your waist. His alarm is going off, and he’s smacking the nightstand beside him in a poor attempt to turn it off.
“You have to go to work,” you remind him, kissing his cheek as you move farther up in the bed.
“I’m good,” he replies, sighing as he finds his phone and turns the sound off. “Right here.”
He rolls closer to you, his hand sweeping over your stomach as he looks into your eyes. Tim can be persuasive, but you’ve gotten used to this routine over the last few weeks.
“I’d love for you to stay, I really would, but I don’t think your boss would appreciate it,” you say.
Tim groans, pressing his face against your neck as his arm tightens around you.
“You got clingy,” you tease, running your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp.
“And you won’t let me stay,” Tim mumbles.
“It’s not my fault you wanted to be a cop.”
“You would-“ Tim pauses, sitting up so you can hear him. “You would deprive me of staying at your side during a time like this?”
Chuckling at his dramatics, you push your hand against Tim’s shoulder in a pointless attempt to move him away from you.
“Tim, baby, you see me all the time.”
“Not enough. I’m going to come home one day, and there will be a toddler running around, but I won’t remember any of this.”
You close your eyes and lean back against your pillow. “You have to go to work today so you can come to the doctor with me on Friday, right? Just think about that.”
“I can’t. I can only think of you.”
“You start a family and suddenly you’re the most romantic, clingy guy in the world. Where’d the grump go?”
Tim doesn’t reply as he tries to pull you closer. Rolling away from him, you leave him no choice but to get up and go to work. His disappointed sigh makes you frown; you know he’s being dramatic to cover up how he feels.
“Tim,” you call, sitting up as he walks to you. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I really do want you here as much as possible.”
“I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.”
You nod, tilting your chin up in a silent request for a kiss. Tim smiles, shaking his head as he bends to meet you. You pull back before he risks getting distracted.
“The grump is back now,” Tim mumbles.
“Hey! Be nice today,” you call after him.
Tim doesn’t reply, and you know he’ll deny ever hearing you say such a thing.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim slams the door as he exits the shop. Standing with his hands on his hips, he looks at the flat tire before glancing at Lucy.
“I didn’t see it,” she begins, her voice rushed and apologetic.
“Because you weren’t paying attention,” Tim snaps.
“But I-“
“How do you expect to graduate to short sleeves if you can’t even drive, boot?”
“It wasn’t my fault; there was something in the road!”
“Call dispatch,” Tim demands.
“What’s the protocol for this?”
Tim remains silent, leaning against the side of the shop as Lucy racks her brain for the proper procedure. As she radios dispatch and explains the situation, Tim grows grumpier. He’s stranded in a subdivision of Los Angeles with a flat tire that could have been avoided instead of home with you. His conviction about being a cop wanes each moment he’s away from you.
✯✯✯✯✯
Even without seeing the worst of it, you can tell Tim’s attitude has changed lately. His fellow officers and the rookies have been dealing with the grumpiest version of Tim they’ve ever experienced, but you see the clingy, emotional, loving side of whatever is making him act so differently.
After doing a few small chores, which Tim will tell you not to do again, you get ready and decide to pay him a visit at the station. You want to see how he is doing.. mostly, you miss him and want an excuse to see him and hug him.
As you get in your car, you consider calling Tim to ensure he’s at the station and has time for a visitor. He has been protective of you since you met, but it has changed and increased since getting married and throughout the early months of your pregnancy. You shrug, putting your phone away after electing to surprise him instead. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“It would be great if one of you could remember that you’re a police officer!” Tim yells, looking between Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? No excuses? Well maybe you should review those rook books before going out on patrol again.”
He turns quickly, prepared to storm away and find a private place to calm down. When he freezes, the rookies look at one another in confusion. Nolan prepares to speak, and Lucy shakes her head to stop him, unwilling to get yelled at again so soon.
“What are you doing here?” Tim asks.
You step into the bullpen with a smile as Tim rushes to your side.
“Missed you,” you whisper.
“Is that- is she-“ Nolan stutters.
“Pregnant? Yeah. And Tim is… smiling?” Jackson adds.
Lucy gasps, moving in front of Nolan to see better. It’s true: Tim is standing as close as he can, with one hand laid protectively over your stomach while he smiles down at you. His grumpiness, which has made being a rookie nearly unbearable recently, is completely gone, vanished at the sight of you.
“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” Tim frets.
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you I cleaned the kitchen, huh?” you reply.
Tim shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the swell of your baby bump as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tim asks softly.
You smile, moving your chin to gesture to your left. Tim’s brows pinch as he turns, glaring at the rookies until they look away, turning to one another in a fake conversation.
“I’m not going to survive this afternoon,” Tim tells you.
“You’ve been grumpy and mean,” you accuse.
“Look, they’re going to annoy me all afternoon. Stay with me? You can do a ride along. Oh! Or you could go into labor so I can stay home with you for a few days.”
“As great as that sounds, I’m going to pass. I’d like to have a healthy baby when the time is right, not on your schedule, grumpy.”
Tim frowns, his hands on either side of your bump.
“But, I promise to be waiting for you the moment you get home,” you add. “And, maybe, if you just tell them the truth, it won’t be so bad.”
“You’ve never dealt with a boot. Or Angela Lopez.”
“Just because you won’t introduce me.”
“For good reason.”
You smile, raising your chin again before Tim kisses you quickly.
“Be careful going home. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Tim watches you leave, waiting until you’re out of sight to turn back toward the rookies. He jerks back slightly when he sees Lucy standing right beside him.
“She’s so cute! You’re so cute together! Why haven’t you mentioned her, Tim?” Lucy gushes. “And where do you hide that guy that was with her? I’ve never met that Tim.”
“And you won’t,” he promises.
“I think he leaves that side of Tim with her,” Nolan adds.
Tim’s jaw clenches. It’s true, he knows, but he doesn’t want details of his personal life to become an accepted topic for the rookies. He raises his hand, and they silence.
“Just- leave it alone for now, and I will introduce you the next time she visits,” he offers. 
As he says it, he makes a mental note to ask you not to visit without warning so he doesn’t have to follow through. The lie is the only way to have peace while in the vicinity of the rookies.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Jackson muses.
“You’re having a kid?” Angela yells, running down the stairs and grabbing Tim’s arm.
Tim grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before saying, “Yes.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“If it’s a girl, Angela is a great name.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve got a long list of names that are an absolute no-go,” Tim replies, looking between the rookies and Angela.
“How did you figure this out?” Angela asks Lucy.
“She – who is she?” Lucy begins before realizing that she never heard who you are to Tim.
“My wife,” Tim mutters.
“You’re married?!” Angela and Nolan ask together.
Angela slaps Tim's shoulder, frowning when he looks at her with his eyebrows raised.
“I thought we were friends.”
“What gave you that impression?”
Angela gasps, covering her heart with her hand.
“Uh, Tim?” you ask, standing behind him.
He turns toward you quickly, and Angela’s eyes widen as she looks at you.
“Yeah?” he asks kindly, yet another surprise.
“Can you come with me for a second?” You notice the small crowd behind him, officers who seem more interested in you than anything else. “Hi,” you say, waving at them.
“It is so nice to meet you,” Angela begins, stepping toward you before Tim blocks her way with his arm.
“We’ll do introductions later,” Tim says, putting his arm around you and leading you away.
“I’m holding you to that!” Lucy yells.
Tim leads you into an empty interview room, his eyes searching yours. You take his hand, laying it on your stomach. Something happened when you heard his voice earlier, and you want to share it.
“Say something,” you request. “Anything.”
“I love you,” Tim answers.
His eyes widen as he feels the movement of a kick against his hand. He squats before you, moving his hand under your shirt.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” he asks.
You feel another kick, laughing at how your baby already has Tim wrapped around its finger. 
“You promised to make introductions,” you say, interrupting Tim’s conversation with your stomach.
Tim stands, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. Breathless, you push against his chest as you break away.
“You were right,” you admit. “It would be nice to have you home more.”
“We did it,” Tim whispers, his eyes dropping to your bump.
“I feel like I’m interrupting something,” you mumble.
Tim chuckles, rubbing your back as he leads you to the door.
“Introductions, and then we’re going home,” Tim explains. “Names and nothing more.”
“I would expect no less, Officer Bradford.”
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lightsoutletsgo · 10 months ago
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welcome home — op.81 (18+)
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (occasional allusions to reader being thick and a little chubby but mostly non-descriptive of body!)
word count: 4.5k
warnings: (hold onto your hats folks, it’s a long list 🧍‍♀️) SMUT!! porn with very little plot, don’t be silly, wrap your willy! creampie, breeding kink, allusions to oscar being bi, use of sex toys, light degrading (slut, whore), a hint of overstimulation, spanking (ass and thighs),  mentions of reader making a HECKIN lot of mess, oscar catches reader and watches her without her knowing!!
hi loves! this is the fic I wrote last night after the tequila hit and when I read it this morning to proof read it I was like 'wtf did I write?' 😭 I was debating if I should add the whole making out with the toy right there situation but my lovely beta reader @softieekayy said it was perfectly ✨spicy✨ so it has stayed in! as always, read at your own risk. please DO NOT read if you are not 18+! happy reading! mimi 🤍
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God you hated triple headers. Okay that was an exaggeration, you loved the excitement of watching your boyfriend do his thing from the other side of the world but what you hated was the fact you didn’t get any of his… attention for a couple of weeks.
At first the big orange dildo had been a joke. One of your friends had bought it for you when she learned of your relationship with Oscar, “for those weekends you’re alone.” She had said. You had laughed at the bright papaya colour and brushed the whole thing off, denying you would ever need a use for it. But now as the box it sat in stared up at you from the bottom of your wardrobe, you felt a thrill rush down your spine, pussy clenching involuntarily at the thought of being filled up after so long. You leaned against the wardrobe door, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before slamming it shut and storming back across the room to the bed, throwing yourself into the plush comforter and pillows to let out a yell. You rolled onto your back and sighed. No. You would just wait for Oscar to come home. You could handle a few more days, right? Closing your eyes, you turned your head into Oscar’s pillow and inhaled deeply, moaning at the way his scent invaded your nostrils. God you needed him. You shook your head to clear the thoughts away and focused on sleeping. The faster you slept the sooner tomorrow would come right? Which meant the sooner Oscar would be home. 
You gasped as you felt fingers digging into your thighs and your eyes flew open to see Oscar between your legs, his eyes staring back at yours, hazy with lust as he sucked and nibbled on your clit before dipping his tongue into your cunt to get a taste of your sweetness. Your hands flew to his hair as your back arched. You had no clue where your clothes had gone but you didn’t care, too caught up in the way Oscar wrapped his lips around your clit and shook his head side to side. A shriek left your mouth and your legs closed quickly before he spanked your inner thighs and pushed them open, “Taste so good angel…” Your head dropped back onto the pillow as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Bucking your hips up you tugged at Oscar’s hair and he let out a growl into your pussy, the vibrations doing nothing but heighten the sensation building in your lower stomach. “O-Oscar…” He smirked up at you, “Yes angel?” “Gonna cum!” You squeaked out at his unrelenting movements, “Then cum for me angel, make a mess all over my face hmm?”
Your eyes snapped open and you jolted upright. It had been a fucking dream? You groaned and led back down, a hand coming up to feel how warm your face was. But it felt so real? You whimpered and squeezed your legs together, already able to feel how much you’d dripped everywhere and soaked your panties. You bit your lip, sliding a hand down between your breasts and stomach, feeling the way your breath caught in your throat the closer you got to your thighs. Sliding your panties off underneath your - well, Oscar’s shirt - you gasped as you realised just how soaked they were and how much of your slick had coated your inner thighs. Sliding your hand down you moaned as you began to rut your pussy against your hand, already turning feral with need. You let out a loud groan and huffed.
Standing up and walking over the wardrobe before grabbing that darn box. Unpacking the dildo and quickly washing it off under the bathroom sink you slid back into bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. You stared at the toy in your hand for a moment, it was just a little over average size, more girth than length, and you couldn’t help but shiver when you realised it was a similar size and shape to your boyfriend. You noted how it had been moulded with a few veins here and there for texture and your mouth watered at the thought it conjured up, of Oscar's cock on your tongue and the way he would groan when your tongue traced the veins on his length.
Lying back down and pulling Oscar’s t-shirt up to halfway up your tummy, you gently dragged the dildo up your inner thighs, enjoying the way you felt your pussy leak onto the sheets. You decided quickly that you’d had enough of teasing yourself and so you moved the toy up to your burning core. 
The toy was cold as it rubbed up and down your lips and you bit your lip, relishing in the tingling sensation everytime it caught your clit. You briefly wondered if you needed lube, but with how much you were dripping you figured you could get some later if you needed it. You dipped the tip of the toy into your entrance and your breath shuddered, “Fuck…” A moan came out involuntarily as you sank the toy into your waiting pussy a little further, relishing in the way it stretched you out so deliciously. “Mmm… Oscar…” You couldn’t help the way your boyfriend’s name slipped from your lips as the toy slid into you more, the textured veins on the toy exciting all those spots inside of you. You let out a satisfied sigh when the toy was pushed into you to the hilt and you gave yourself a moment to enjoy the full feeling it offered, before you were pulling it back out to the tip, mouth dropping open as it dragged against your walls, the silicone quickly warming up to your body temperature. 
You started off slow and gentle, shallow little thrusts that had you whimpering and whining as you fucked yourself the way you knew Oscar would. The hand not using the toy flew up to pull your t-shirt up even more to expose your tits and pinch your nipple. You hummed happily, enjoying the feeling but it was quickly proving to not be enough. You spread your legs wider and began to move the toy with a little more force at a faster speed. Your moans grew a little louder, mixing with the slick wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your hand slid down from where it pinched and pulled your nipples to gently rub your clit. You felt the way you clamped down around the toy and how it made it a little harder to thrust and you smiled, knowing that feeling was something that drove Oscar wild.
At the thought of your boyfriend you let out a rather lewd sound, moving your hips up to meet your hand as you started pounding your cunt with the toy. You were drunk on the feeling, moaning like a pornstar, rubbing your clit faster. You could feel your juices all over your hand and you could hear the way you were creaming all over the toy. 
But what pushed you over the edge was turning your head into Oscar’s pillow once more, inhaling and drowning in him as you came. Clenching down tightly onto the toy as your back arched and your legs shook. Practically crying out Oscar’s name, you almost growled with frustration as your hand didn’t stop, despite how tired you were, still needing more. 
You let out a whimper as your hand cramped and you knew you needed to change positions. Slipping the toy out your eyes widened as you saw exactly how much of a mess you had made all over it. You pushed yourself over onto all fours and buried your face into Oscar’s pillow, moving your hand underneath your stomach and pushing the toy back into you as you fucked yourself face down ass up.
The toy easily slid back into your eager hole and you moaned at the feeling. You didn’t hesitate with teasing yourself this time, instead fucking yourself hard straightaway, a deep moan leaving your mouth as your eyes rolled back. From this new angle, the toy reached even deeper and you needed more of it. You continued railing yourself, moaning and whining Oscar’s name with everything you had in you. 
Oscar sighed with relief, feeling all the tension and stress leave his body as the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment complex. Climbing out with his bags, he thanked the driver and headed up to your shared apartment. He knew it was the early hours of the morning and you would still be asleep but if he could be quiet enough then maybe he could surprise you in the morning with his arms wrapped around you. God he’d missed you. As he reached the doorway of your apartment his stomach flipped with excitement and he didn’t think he’d ever unlocked the door or put his bags down so quickly, desperate to have you in his arms again. But when he got to your bedroom door he stopped. Oscar’s hand hovered over the bedroom door handle as he listened to the noises drifting through from the other side. Were you moaning? He heard the noise again and he didn’t have to strain his ears to pick up the slick wet sounds of you playing with your pussy. He gulped, unsure of what to do. Did he go in and risk you feeling upset and cornered? Or did he deprive you of what you so clearly wanted? Oscar’s head tipped back in a silent groan as another whimpery moan slipped through the door. He opened the door and hsi mouth dropped open at the sight. He’d expected to maybe see you on your back with a hand down your panties but what was in front of him was much more lewd than that. There you were, your ass up in the air jiggling deliciously as you pounded a toy in and out of you, a toy that was the same colour as his car? Oscar growled low in his throat and started to take a step towards you but what stopped him in his tracks was the sight he saw when he got closer to you, noticing how you actually had his t-shirt in your other hand and you had it held up to your face as your eyes rolled back and you drooled everywhere. A louder groan tore from his throat and you shrieked at the intrusion, toy dropping out of your pussy, allowing him to see your pretty hole fluttering and clenching for a moment before you were sat on the bed and staring at him with wide eyes, his t-shirt held up over your body in an attempt to cover yourself. “Oscar!” “Hi angel…” Everything was still and silent before he was on you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him as he kissed you. You moaned into his mouth, dropping his t-shirt to instead grab at his hair. Oscar growled before he pulled away from you, 
“Put that toy back inside you, right fucking now.” “What?-” “You heard me angel and I’m not in the mood to play games right now…” Oscar’s eyes were dark and you felt your thighs squeeze together as your hand searched the bed for where you’d thrown the toy in your surprise. You found it and led back on the bed, slowly spreading your legs to let him see your pussy lips and inner thighs glistening with your juices. He hissed and licked his lips at the sight of the creamy mess that had gathered at your entrance. “Go on then… put it back in angel.” Your eyes shot up to look at his, “A-are you sure?” He spanked your inner thigh sharply, “Did I stutter?” You shook your head and slid the toy back inside you, gasping. Oscar sucked in a breath through his teeth and slid his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you. You whined and bucked your hips up. He laughed and repeated the motion, enjoying the way you were already gasping underneath him. “Feel good baby?” You nodded and gasped as he led down on his stomach so his face was level with your cunt. You did you best to close your thighs but a sharp look from him had you opening them up once again. Oscar licked his lips and you felt his hand cover yours at the base of the toy. You removed your hand and whimpered as he started fucking you himself. God this was so hot. You didn’t think it could get any better and then you felt his tongue on your clit. 
Just like in your dream your hands flew to his hair as you were catapulted straight into the buildup for another orgasm. Oscar let out an appreciative moan as he tasted you for the first time. If he was phased by the fact he was effectively licking a fake cock at the same time he was licking your pussy, he didn’t show it, if anything it seemed to make him more enthusiastic, occasionally pulling the toy out completely to lick up the mess at your entrance and then licking and sucking the tip of the toy to taste your sweet arousal from the deepest parts of your pussy. The sight had you moaning and squirming and he fucking noticed… Perhaps the two of you needed to have a conversation at some point…
You were pulled from your thoughts by Oscar taking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive button. Your hips rocked back and forth against the toy as you rode his face, “Mmph, fuck yes angel,” Oscar murmured against your clit, feeling how your pussy had tightened around the toy as he struggled to pull it out,. His tongue swirled around your clit, his drool spilling down your pussy and onto the toy making it even more slippery as he thrust it in and out of you. Your hands tangled in his hair as you felt yourself get close, “Baby!” You warned him, Oscar just hummed, your clit still in his mouth and you grabbed at his hair and his shoulders, his hands, anything you could as you tumbled over the edge, back arching and toes curling. You moaned and whimpered as you came, Oscar pressing soft kisses to your clit to draw out your orgasm even longer. You let out an even louder whimper when he pulled the toy out, hating how empty your pussy felt as you squeezed and throbbed around nothing. You stared at the toy in Oscar’s hand and then back up at his face, leaning forward you kissed it softly before licking the tip, taking it into your mouth and gently sucking on it. Oscar groaned at the sight and grabbed your waist with his free hand, pulling you up to his eye level. You giggled as a plan formed in your mind and you gently pushed his hand towards his lips instead, he seemed to understand as he licked your arousal off the toy himself, eyes fluttering shut as he tasted you. “C’mere,” you whispered to him quietly, gently holding his face with one hand as your other hand moved down to squeeze and stroke him through his sweatpants. Your lips also wrapped around the toy and you licked into Oscar’s mouth, making out with him with the dildo between you.
You giggled as you felt him throb through his clothes, clearly enjoying this new experience. You moaned as Oscar broke away from you to duck his head into your neck and leave some sloppy kisses there. You continued to suck the toy off, closing your eyes and putting on a show you knew was getting harder to ignore. Oscar looked back up at you and his mouth gaped a little at how hot you looked. Grasping the toy in his own hand once more he gently pushed the toy down your throat and hissed as you stared up at him, big doe eyes looking at him so sweetly, 
“Back on your hands and knees baby.” His voice was low and though you’d been fucking yourself for a while, you still felt another wave of arousal course through you. 
Turning round you yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, “Such a fucking slut baby… is this what you do when I’m away hmm?” He leaned over you to bite your earlobe and kiss your neck as he pulled his sweats down. He was ridiculously hard, pre-cum already dripping from the tip of his cock and he smeared it across your pussy lips, sticky and messy. You moaned and tried pushing yourself back onto him but he simply tutted and held your plush hips in place with one arm while he other hand spanked you again, relishing in the way your flesh rippled from his hand, “You just couldn’t wait hmm?” You mewled and shook your head, “M sorry Oscar just missed you too mu- Oh!” You stopped mid-sentence as he thrust into you at once, moaning as his head dropped to the middle of your back. Pressing gentle kisses down as he straightened up, slowly pulling out in a way that had your arms collapsing and your head falling into the pillow. 
“You okay angel?” He breathed, leaning over you again to check in and you nodded, “M okay Osc, promise. Just need you to move, please!” He nodded and pulled out slowly, smirking at the way your body shuddered and shook under him, before he started a relentless pace. His hips slapped into your ass and you fucking giggled as he fucked you. Something about that made Oscar throb. Your pussy convulsed around him as you mindlessly babbled at him, too fucked out to make sense anymore, “Yes fuck Oscar, baby it’s so good, so big, so big fuck,” You gasped, “missed your cock so much baby, missed worshipping it, fuckkkk want it in my mouth, gimme your fingers please?” Oscar obliged and the hand not guiding your hips pushed two fingers into your mouth. Oscar’s own eyes rolled back as he felt you drooling and sucking. “Not enough Osc, need more!” You cried out and his eyes caught sight of the orange toy that now lay discarded next to you, still covered in your arousal. Oscar smirked to himself once more, removing his fingers from your mouth and picking the toy up. He moved close to your ear, wanting to see this up close as he whispered, “You need more angel? Then here you go.” he tapped the dildo against your lips and you hummed happily, greedily opening your mouth to stuff it full of the silicone toy. “How is it angel hmm? Tasting yourself on that toy?” You gave an enthusiastic moan, smiling even with your mouth full and Oscar found himself staring at you adoringly, never wavering in how his hips pistoned in and out of you. 
He straightened up, allowing you to fuck your own throat with the toy, focusing on gripping your fleshy hips and tummy and fucking into you. He could feel himself sweating and his hair was in his eyes but still he would not stop. He let out a guttaral groan when he realised that you were now bouncing back to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself and humping his cock. His hips stilled for a moment as he let you grind, working for what you were so desperate to have, “There you go… mhmm good fuckin girl that’s it… atta girl.” He praised you as you grew even needier, throwing yourself back with more and more enthusiasm each time. 
“Oscar!” You squealed as a hand snuck down to softly slide over your clit and you froze, thighs shaking from the stimulation, “Easy, angel, I got you…” You stuffed your mouth full of the toy once more and led there, happy to be on the receiving end of his attention and affections. Oscar continued to rub your clit and he smoothly rolled his hips into yours, loving every squeak and whimper and moan and mewl he elicited from you. 
You fought to keep your eyes open as you felt that pressure building and building between your legs. “Oscar…” You pulled off of the toy to warn him you were close, Oscar’s response was to simply lean down over you, practically mounting you as his hips refused to stop, now pounding into you.He grabbed the toy and threw it to one side, smashing his lips to yours in a messy exchange of spit and breath and moans. You whimpered, the slight change in his position causing him to rub against your g-spot with every push and pull thrust. You could feel your body climbing higher and you scrabbled to grab the hand near your head and link his fingers with yours, “Fuck baby!” You cried and Oscar knew the sound immediately, “Cum for me angel, there you go, atta girl…”
He cooed at you as you came hard. Moaning into his mouth and squeezing his hands as your pussy convulsed and fluttered around his cock. Oscar’s head dropped to the pillow next to you as he did his best to hold it together, wanting to fuck you through your orgasm. You giggled as you came down from your high, gasping when his hips circled, keeping his cock deep inside you as he did. You legs gave out and you slid to lay down, Oscar following you down gently as he started to softly rut into you, grinding and circling his hips this time rather than thrusting, he kissed your neck softly before biting lightly, not enough to mark but just enough to feel it there, “Missed you so so much angel,” You gasped, “Yeah?” “Mmm…” He moaned, “Been fuckin torture being away from you…”
You tipped your head to the side to allow him to leave more kisses between words, “Missed your pretty eyes, your soft lips, these gorgeous thighs, your perfect hips, your sweet cunt.” He emphasised the last word with a soft thrust and you smiled, loving how he took care of you but now it was his turn, “Missed you too baby…” Oscar laughed and kissed your cheek, “you did hmm?” “Yeah… missed your freckles and your arms holdin’ me, missed your pretty hands, your head in my lap, missed your hips and missed… oh…” a soft moan cut you off, “Missed what angel?” Oscar rolled his hips particularly deep and you inhaled sharply, “Missed your cock!” 
Oscar tutted at this, “Sure didn’t seem like it baby… you had that toy stuffed in your sweet hole pretty good when I got home…” You whined, “Didn’t feel the same, didn’t feel as good!” You reasoned, Oscar’s hips began to move a little more, beginning that familiar motion of sliding in and out of you. He could feel how you’d not only made a mess on your own thighs but his thighs too, and his hips. “Didn’t feel as good hmm? You certainly seemed to be enjoying it?” “Just missed you too much!” A hand snaked up to gently take hold of your throat, not to choke you but enough to remind you of who was in charge. You panted as his thrusts increased again, “Please Oscar, wanna feel you full me up!”
His eyes closed and his head rested against your shoulder as he heard you begging for his cum, “Need to feel you fill me up, please? Be so fuckin good for you Osc, I promise!” You heard him growl next to your ear, a low sound that had you determined to make this man lose his damn mind. “Yes, just like that baby, please don’t stop please please please!” You kept begging him over and over, knowing you wouldn’t be satisfied until he was spilling out of you, “Please baby, show me just how much you missed me, yes yes yes! Fuck. Make me fuckin take it come on baby… ‘S so fucking good Oscar… only one that can make me feel this good. Mmm fucking love your cock oh my GOD!-” Oscar’s hand tightened round your throat a little as his hips slapped into yours with more need once again, too turned on by your begging to do anything else, “Gonna fill you up angel, “Yes!” You cried out, Oscar felt his balls tighten and his cock throb, “Gonna breed my pretty girl, cum nice and deep inside you hmm? Mark you from the inside shit, FUCK! I love you!” With a loud growl, Oscar’s cock throbbed as he shot ropes of his thick hot cum deep inside you, just rocking back and forth as he made sure to spill every last drop into your greedy cunt. 
He pressed a long kiss to your neck, then your cheek and then the side of your head. 
With Oscar on top of you and having already cum multiple times, you felt all warm and cosy and you couldn’t help the way you immediately felt sleepy, “Welcome home baby…” Oscar chuckled and rolled off of you, pulling you with him to cuddle into his side, “Angel, have you even slept yet?” You yawned as you nodded, “For a couple of hours at least…” You trailed off feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once, “Oh no no no angel, bathroom first, then water, then sleep!” You groaned but Oscar was firm and you knew he was right. He helped you to the bathroom and then went to grab water while you finished up. After falling into bed together you immediately cuddled up to him, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you threw you leg over his waist, his hand automatically rubbing your thigh. Things with Oscar always felt so right, so natural, so normal. You gave a contented sigh and Oscar snorted as he spotted the bright orange toy in the corner of the room from where it had gracefully landed after being flung off the bed earlier. You followed his gaze and giggled as he broke into full laughter, “Papaya Y/N? I mean, really?” You shook your head, “It wasn’t me! One of my friends bought it as a joke gift and today was the fist time I…” You trailed off and he squeezed you tightly, understanding what you meant, “We should definitely talk about what was going on between you  and that toy though…” Oscar blushed and you kissed his cheek, “Don’t worry baby, it was hot!” Oscar smiled at you, settling down to fall asleep with you in his arms, “What a welcome home ey?” 
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃
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burreauxsworld · 3 months ago
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Ours To Keep (5) | Joe Burrow
Major Angst, Fluff
Summary: Joe’s words hang heavy over you. So much that you haven’t spoken to him in a week unless it was work related. Joe is on a mission to make it up to you.
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You sat at your desk in your office typing away, answering email after email. The Bengals had their second pre season game yesterday against the Falcons, although Joe didn’t play yesterday, it was still a long day for you. Jake Browning’s assistant ended up getting covid, so you took on that role for the day. Mostly just to piss Joe off, which you succeeded in doing. Between that and losing the game, Joe was on a warpath.
He’d tried for several days to reach out to you, or corner you at work, or even show up to your house unannounced. But you always pretended you weren’t home. He feels terrible for what he said and he knows you’re hurting. But you’ve completely shut him out. He hadn’t heard anything about the baby, or if the baby was even okay. He deserved it, he knew that, but he thought the two of you would have talked it out by now.
Which is why he didn’t give you a choice when he burst into your office and slammed the door. You looked up instantly and let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and looking back down at your laptop. “What do you want Burrow?”
“Burrow? That’s where we are now?” It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he stands in front of your desk with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. “I’m busy” you say, not looking up. His large hand pushes the top of the laptop closed. “Not anymore.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” You say. “Too bad. We’re having a baby together. You have to deal with me for 18 years” he retorts and you let out a dry laugh. “A baby that you don’t even want” you mumble. “I never said that I didn’t want the baby. I was just frustrated and you-“
“Are you really trying to justify how you treated me last week by saying that you were upset?!” You exclaim. “Joe, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your emotional punching bag whenever you lose a game or when you’re mad at the world. We’ve been together exclusively for all of 2 weeks and I spent one of them questioning everything” you rant, tears filling your eyes. “If this is how it’s going to be now, what’s it going to be like when she gets here?”
“She?” Joe asks, confused.
“The ultrasound. The one that you were too mad at the world to go to. We’re having a girl. By the way, I’m due February 11th if you even care” you spit. His face softens and he takes a step toward you, and you take a step back. “Baby-“
“No. Immediately no. You don’t get to come in here and do that. You said some really hurtful shit to me and you don’t get to act like it didn’t happen just because you’re saying sorry,” you rant. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “I can’t be you punching bag Joe. I get it, your pissed because the team isn’t off to great start. You’re mad at the world, and that’s fine. But you don’t get to treat me like shit because you feel like shit. We’re a team, Joe. Now more than ever” you continue, tears brimming your eyes.
“When you didn’t show up to the ultrasound, I was more hurt than angry. You promised me you’d be at every single appointment, and that I wouldn’t feel like I was doing this alone. This week showed me a different side of you and I’m not sure how I feel about it. You aren’t my boss anymore, Joe. You’re my boyfriend. The father of my child. So if that’s not what you want, you need to tell me now. I’m tired of the back and forth and feeling like I’m just wanted for sex-“
“Hold on. I’ve never just wanted you for sex. You know that” he says defensively. “Lately it feels like if we’re not fucking, we’re fighting” you respond, your voice cracking. “Joe, I love you with my whole heart. I want to be with you more than I want the air in my lungs, but I’m not going to tolerate you being an ass to me every time you lose a game” you tell him, not breaking eye contact. You notice his eyes are brimmed with tears too.
“So if you want out, please just say the word-“
“I don’t want out. I don’t want to go anywhere” Joe says, stepping toward you. This time you don’t move. You let him wrap you in his arms and you start to sob into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Non now, not ever” Joe says, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I have a lot of things I need to work on. Treating you better is at the top of my list. I’ve started going to therapy-“
You pull your head back and look up at him. “What?”
“I’ve been trying to reach out to you all week to tell you. I know that there’s no amount of apologies that can make up for what I said to you. I made you feel like I didn’t want you or this baby and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Y/N, you’re my best friend. You’ve stuck by me at my worst. I’ve lost my mind. But all I’m asking is that you try to forgive me. I’m not asking for right away. I just want you by my side without hating me-“
“I don’t hate you Joe. I’m still very hurt, though. It’s going to take some time” you tell him. “In the mean time, I have sonogram pictures. Do you want to see our little girl?” You ask him, a smile forming on your face. “Uh, yeah. Is that even a question?”
•••
Joe headed back out to practice after looking at the sonogram pictures. You were still really hurt, but seeing his smile while looking at the small pictures made you happy. Before he left he gave you a kiss, and after a week of not speaking to him, it had your hormones soaring. You lean back in your desk chair and place a hand on your growing bump.
It’s only a matter of time before people start to figure it out. Wearing hoodies and baggy clothes is only going to work for so long. It was a relief that Gabby knows though, you didn’t have to wear a hoodie in your office and your desk hid your bump if anyone besides Joe or Ja’Marr came in. Speaking of Gabby.
“Hey, girlie. Brought you lunch. You and baby need to eat” Gabby says, placing a bag in front of you. You groaned at the smell of the food. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until now. “Subway? How did you know I’ve been craving a chicken bacon ranch”
Gabby laughs. “You’ve only been talking about it for 3 days”
“I saw Joe coming out of here a few minutes ago. How did that go?” She asks while taking a seat at her desk. “It was okay. He apologized profusely and we looked at sonogram pictures” you tell her as you start to literally devour your sandwich. “He understands that I’m still hurt and it’s going to take a little while before we’re back to normal” you add. “Good. He can’t treat you that way just because we lost a stupid game” Gabby says.
“And speaking of sonogram pics, did you find out what your having yet?” Gabby asks excitedly. You look up at her with a smirk on your face and she jumps to her feet. “Y/N! Oh my god!” She squeals. “We’re having a girl” you tell her, and she squeals even louder. You suddenly stand to your feet with urgency.
“Sorry to cut this short but this baby is sitting right on my bladder and I have to pee”
•••
You find yourself walking up the driveway of Joe’s house after work. After not being here for a week, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss sleeping in his bed. Since the beginning of your pregnancy, you’ve slept better if he was there. So when he called and asked you to come over after work, you agreed.
You open the door using you key that he gave you and walk in to a delicious smell of food cooking. You walk toward the kitchen where Joe stands in front of the stove stirring some kind of sauce. “Hey,” you say, and he turns around with a soft smile. “Hey gorgeous”
“What are you making?” You ask as you wrap your arms around him from behind. “Cajun shrimp Alfredo. Your fav” he says, and you smile. “You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?” You tease and he lets out a laugh. “I think I’ve buttered you up enough, hence the baby bump pressing into my back” he jokes, and you both laugh. “You filled me up, not buttered”
“Y/N!” Joe calls out surprised while you let out a loud laugh. “My god, what am I gonna do with you” he jokes, turning around in your arms. “Um…” you tap your chin pretending to think. “You can start by bending me over this counter,” you tell him, giving him what he calls the bedroom eyes. He smirks. “Oh yeah? Then what?” He asks, walking you back until your back is pressed against the counters edge. “Then you can fuck me until I see stars” you whisper, before he smashed his lips onto yours.
The kiss is filled with passion, and pent up sexual frustration. Joe’s hands land on your ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze, while your hands move along his biceps. His kisses start to move down your neck and you crane your head to the side to give him better access. The growling of your stomach causes him to laugh against your neck before pulling away. “As much as I want to do this, let’s get some food in you and then we can talk about sex” he says. As he’s playing the food, he looks deep in thought.
“You okay? You look a little lost” you say with a slight laugh. “Yeah, I’m good. There’s just something I want to talk to you about,” he turns toward you and he sets the glass plate in front of you on the kitchen island, and stands across from you. “You can totally say no. But I was wondering if you wanted to move in here? With me” he says, his voice quaking from nervousness. “I just figured it might be easier once the baby comes, and you’re here all the time anyway-“
“Joey, I would love to move in with you” you say, reaching over to place your hand on top of his with a soft smile on your face. “There’s also something I’ve been meaning to bring up to you” you start, and let out a sigh. “I think you should stop paying me” you say, looking up to meet his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I pay you? You work hard, and on top of everything else you’re still my assistant” he says, confused. “We’re dating now, Joe. I’m sleeping with you. I’m not a prostitute” you say with a laugh. “But I’m not paying you for that. I’m paying you for all the shit you have to put up with because of me” he argues.
“Joe-“
“Not to mention game days. I put you through hell on game days” he rambles, before taking a deep breath. “You done?” You ask him. “I don’t want you to pay me anymore, baby. If I’m going to be living here I’ll be fine. I only had you pay me before because I needed to make rent money. Now, I’m not saying you’ll be responsible for everything financially. I’ve found a remote job that all I have to do is log onto a computer. I’m going to do that, while still being your assistant because whether you want to admit it or not, you need the help” you joke, and he scoffs.
“You’re not wrong.” He says and you laugh.
After that, the two of you eat in silence. But not an uncomfortable silence, just enjoying each other company. Once finished you walk your and Joe’s plates over to the sink, as he leans against the island watching you. When you turn toward him he smiles and opens his arms for a hug, but you have other ideas.
“Now I wanna do something that I’ve been thinking about all week,” you say, as you drop to your knees in front of him. He has a smirk on his face as he looks down at you. “Go to town, baby”
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gibsongirlsundaymorning · 2 months ago
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noise complaints (part 2)
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A/N: Fine you gay people win. Here’s part two… sorry if it’s horrible, I am NOT a writer and I did NOT spellcheck this. Also I now realize she was technically going by Agnes at the time bc she was still under the spell when she was in her cop era… too lazy late to fix it ❤️
Summary: After Agatha finds you and Rio outside of the party she busted surrounded by two guys from your high school, she feels she has a few lessons to teach you two. (Reading part one is highly suggested!)
Warnings: smut, strap-on use, degradation and praise, vouyerism, impact play, fingering, oral, punishment, mean!Agatha, gunplay if you squint and spin three times, orgasm denial, bondage, masturbation, Rio being too bratty for her own good, use of “Y/N”, I don’t know if I can be more specific than this, it’s filth!
Pairing: Older!Cop!Dom!Agatha x Younger!Sub!R x Brat!Sub!Rio
NSFW below the cut MDNI!
After the cruel scolding that was sure to be only the beginning of the harsh words you and Rio would face that night, Agatha drags the two of you back to her patrol car by your wrists. You stumbled over your feet, trying your hardest to keep up with your furious girlfriend; Meanwhile Rio dragged her feet along reluctantly, trying desperately to keep up her careless, tough exterior and get a rise out of the cop.
Rio is thrown into the passenger side of the car, her hair nearly caught in the door as Agatha slams it, leading you towards the back door.
“At least one of my sluts is eager to please… Keep it up and maybe you can get what you want tonight.” She shouts the last part, addressing you, but directing the comment towards your brattier counterpart, who was now fidgeting in the front seat.
Agatha gets in the car, starting it up and taking off on the short ride back to your shared home. Rio’s placement in the front of the car was meant to keep her in check, keep her in Agatha’s direct line of vision and in close reach for reprimand. Rio had different ideas of how to use her forced proximity.
Your older girlfriend’s breathing had just reached some sort of equilibrium, no longer audibly seething through her breaths alone, when Rio reached over the console and slid her hand into Agatha’s lap. Much to your horror, Agatha just laughs.
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, doll. You have five seconds to take your hand and keep it to yourself before I decide you’ll be sleeping in the guest room for the next week.” Rio, of course, waits until the very end of those five seconds before dragging her hand back across Agatha’s lap, making sure to brush her covered core ever-so-slightly before bringing it back to her side of the console to pout. You shudder under the reflection of Agatha’s hooded gaze in the rear view mirror as she grinds her teeth down against each other in a fiery frustration.
The silence and tension grows more and more palpable as the drive comes to an end when Agatha throws the cruiser into park at the top of your driveway, right next to Rio’s precious bike. She wasn’t exactly being careful to swerve away from it.
Before you could even think of reaching for your door handle, it was thrown open and you and Rio were being forced into the home. You were at the front, being pushed into the house by Agatha’s right hand, which was tangled in your hair and gripping it into a ponytail. Rio was being dragged in the back by Agatha’s tight grip on her ear. If you didn’t know better, you’d be giggling at the way the slightly taller girl resembled a misbehaving child being scolded by her upset mother. If Rio knew better, she wouldn’t have acted like a misbehaving child.
It was clearly too late for this when Agatha practically tossed you two into the house, all in the same manner as you’d seen her do with her bags after a long day at work. She ran her tongue between her top teeth and her top lip as she looked you and your girlfriend up and down, almost as if deciding between a library of options for how to deal with the two of you.
“Both of you, go to my room now and be ready for me in the next minute… Y/N, pick something pretty out from my drawer, would you, hun?” With that, she had decided.
As you and Rio made your way into your bedroom and Rio made her way to the edge of the bed, you slid the drawer open and instinctively grabbed your favorite from the assortment, a small and quiet but powerful bullet that Agatha could control from her phone. You were hoping she’d use it on you again, but there was no point in asking once she walked in, because it would almost surely earn you the exact opposite.
She walks in to find you sitting on your heels at the same spot at the edge of the bed where Rio sat, manspreading and fidgeting with the seam on her shirt. She takes the small purple toy from your hands and kisses the top of your head, a chillingly gentle gesture in contrast with her bubbling anger that night. Her hand slips from the side of your jaw to the underside of your chin, tilting your head up just a bit so that you were looking up and meeting her eyes with your own. “Such a good choice, sweet girl.”
She then turns to Rio, who hasn’t yet given up her false tough demeanor. “Kiss her. How you were before I walked in early tonight. Pretend I’m not even here, and God help you if you hold back even the slightest bit.” With that, she sat down in the large armchair directly in the eye line from where you sat.
Rio smiles slyly and slides her hands into the back of your head, tangling her digits in your hair as she meets your lips with her own. Your own hands, shaking, find her hips as she deepens the kiss and straddles you as you’re still sitting on your knees with rigid posture that reflects your nervousness outwardly. When you finally melt into her touch the slightest bit, losing yourself in her confident dominance, you hear Agatha stand and are suddenly enveloped in her shadow as Rio is yanking away from you.
Or rather, being yanked away. You note Agatha’s grip around Rio’s waves as she speaks in an even more gravely voice than usual, “That was your final chance to prove yourself as something more than a greedy bitch. Get in the chair.”
She swallows, devoid of any of the dominance from seconds prior, and climbs into the chair Agatha had just risen from. The latter takes Rio’s seat next to you, but lifts you onto her lap with your right leg slotted between her own, your center falling onto the top of her right thigh. Once you could see clearly again as the rush of her rough fingers around your waist simmered the smallest bit, you realized you were sitting on something… hard? and let out an involuntary whisper.
Agatha looks down at where your legs meet and then back at you, grinning like the devil, as Rio writhes in her seat. Agatha immediately clocks the movement from over your shoulder. “If you ever want me to make you come again, you’ll sit still and enjoy the show I’m so generously giving you after your disgusting displays tonight.” Rio reluctantly complies. She returns her attention to you, now digging her fingers into your hips with bruising force, and guides you ever-so-slightly back and forth against the pressure below you. “Agatha?” you breathe out.
“Yeah, angel?” The title almost makes you forget what was supposed to follow your initial words. The hardness below you reminds you quickly. “Are you… did you wear the strap to work?” you nearly whisper, the question barely audible to your other girlfriend, who sat still now and held onto every word from you and the woman below you uttered. “No, baby, try again.”
It seems as if all the blood in your body rushes to your face as you realize that what you were grinding down onto wasn’t the strap you’d been mercilessly filled with time after time, but her patrol weapon. It was mind-blowingly filthy and embarrassing to you, which brought both Agatha and Rio more pleasure than any other act the three of you had carried out together could. “Keep moving those pretty hips, hun. Don’t shy away from being a slut now, it’s a little too late for that.” You bit your lip hard enough to taste the same metallic tang from before you left the same room earlier that night as you hid your blushing face in the crook of the cop’s neck.
“Hey, come back, angel, I’ve got a question for you.” You look up reluctantly, dreading the eye contact you knew she would demand as you spoke. “Yes ma’am.” She chuckled lowly at this, “Oh, what, now you wanna be good for me? Nice try. What I was wondering…. was if you think our greedy girl over there should get to join us.” You look over your shoulder at the desperate woman, your eyes glossing over at the sight of her thighs pressed together so tightly they could surely suffocate you if your head found its way between them as it so often did. You turn back to Agatha and offer only a nod, not trusting your breath to stay loyal to you.
Agatha curled a finger, beckoning your girlfriend over and watching as she scrambled to the bed. “Now, Y/N, do you think I should use this” she held up the toy you’d previously picked out from her collection “on Rio here? Think it’d be fun to see her crumble under the stimulation and forget all about her little stone-cold act?” You nodded quicker than you knew possible. “No, I need words.” You swallow and breathe in shakily, hips still moving on their own accord. “Yes. Please, wanna see.” She just smiles and lifts you off of her leg as she readies her attention on the other girl.
“I think she has to earn it.”
Ok guys this was like… part 1.5, the first half of part 2 of the OG post. The rest of the warnings will apply to the next part if they weren’t in this one, and I’m hoping to have that one out like the middle of next week! LMK what yall wanna see in the next part beside what I have planned :)
Also for those who wanted to be tagged: @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @wandaslittlelove @babybeeelle @believe-in-magic13 @reeselov3salexvause @ahintofchaos @girlwithissuesworld @lovelyy-moonlight @teenybean @jorddddddddd
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wileys-russo · 4 months ago
Note
Hi ,
Platonic ingrid / Alexia with mapi and pollito " they are idiots , but they are my idiot , still they are idiots " in park or during matches
Thank you
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part of the pollito universe our idiots II a.putellas, m.león, i.engen
"oye nena, you are going to send yourself deaf!" you winced at the pinch to your knee, pulling your headphones down around your neck and sending the older catalan a scowl.
"you told me you did not like my music. this was the solution!" you defended yourself, having been banned from any kind of music control in alexia's car.
personally you felt it was an unfair judgement. it wasn't your fault that the songs you liked to listen to just sounded best at max volume, or that you'd accidentally blown alexia's speaker system trying to prove that point.
"you never listen as it is chica, i need these to work." you whined at the sharp tug on your ear, unclicking your seatbelt and practically diving out of the car away from her, headphones left on your seat.
but of course the moment the door closed and you stood up straight, stretching out with a sigh did someone else grab at you, hands gripping your wrists and forcing your arms to twist behind your head.
"buenas tardes pollito!" the familiar voice cooed in your ear, a wet kiss to your cheek with a loud mwah having you grimacing in disgust and trying to yank your arms free.
"suéltame hijo de puta!" you spat, grunting with the effort of trying to pull away but it was fruitless as she merely laughed at your attempts. "such ugly words." mapi tutted at the language you hauled her way during the struggle, whining as mapi used your hands to make you hit yourself.
"alexia, ayuda!" you called out as the older girl finally emerged from the car, head having been buried in her phone. but as she opened her mouth to no doubt order mapi to let you go, someone else stepped in first.
"maría! let her go, what did i say about picking on her?" you perked up at the norweigans warning, mapi finally letting you go with a huff, hurrying to hide behind the taller girl as you lunged for her.
"well hello." ingrid chuckled as instead you moved to tightly hug her, flipping her girlfriend the finger behind her back and grinning as mapi narrowed her eyes but ultimately couldn't do anything about it with ingrid acting as a barrier between the two of you.
"hermana!" your head whipped around and your eyes lit up as another car door slammed closed, your older sister gabriella opening her arms expectantly as you let go of ingrid and rushed over toward her.
but her face fell and eyes rolled as you dropped to your knees in front and started to coo fondly at the fluffy newfoundland by her side, arms thrown around his neck and kisses pressed against his head as your sister sighed and tapped your shoulder, holding out his leash.
"me alegro de verte imbécil!" the older girl yelled after you as you took your dogs leash and sprinted off toward the park you'd all met up at, alexia chuckling at the sight and greeting your sister with a hug.
"and you are sure you are okay with him for the weekend?" gabriella asked with a frown, alexia nodding but not without a sigh. "she has been begging for weeks for one of them to come and visit, if she had her way all four of them would be here." your captain chuckled, and it was true you'd been pestering her forever to let one of your family dogs come and stay.
you'd been on fire the last few games, scoring five times in three matches and even getting your first start of the season.
then to try and sweeten alexia up more you'd pulled back your usual reckless activities and pranks, your list set aside for the time being as you focused on proving to her that you were responsible.
it was almost scary just how quickly you'd switched up.
you were always as helpful as you could be around the house, forever helping to clean up and even offering to cook (but after last time olga and alexia would politely decline, the bitter memory of your last culinary creation still lingering in their tastebuds and nightmares).
but now even at training you were on your very best behaviour, always offering to help the staff set up and pack down, the first to get boots on the grass and the last to run them off, doing your best not to interrupt anyone or goof off during each session.
plus given that the last time one of your dogs had come for a visit it was you sneaking him in behind alexia's back when she was away for the weekend.
and that resulted in her returning to two missing couch cushions (assumed to be eaten), a suspicious stain on the rug, two smashed vases and a nasty little surprise or three in her bedroom and ensuite that you'd missed and not cleaned up.
so after two weeks of your disturbingly angel like behaviour the midfielder had caved and agreed that one of the dogs could come for a weekend sleepover, but that was all she'd bend to.
of course you'd chosen your favourite, diego. a slobbery newfoundland which when he stood on his two back legs was taller than you were and was deaf in one ear.
but seeing the way your face lit up at the sight of him and hearing your laughter echo across the park as you both raced around it, alexia knew she'd made the right decision.
merely giving your sister a wave goodbye she rolled her eyes again as she bid the others farewell and slipped back into the car, a two and a half drive back to your childhood town ahead of her you made a mental note to call her later to thank her properly.
but for now all you could focus on was diego, ingrid and alexia disappearing to get a coffee as mapi stayed in the park with you, a backpack of diegos things in her hand as you squatted down and began to rifle through it.
"oye nena! what is the command for down?" mapi yelled out, struggling as diego's two front paws sat on her shoulder and she tried not to fall over under his weight, her neck craned away from his tongue which was trying its best to lick at her face.
"diego, bah!" you turned around and yelled, diego immediately dropping into a sitting position as mapi sighed in relief and cooed at him affectionately, scratching behind his ears and grinning at the way his back foot thumped against the ground happily.
"which ear is it?" mapi asked with a frown as you grabbed out his favourite toy, pointing to your right ear and whistling sharply, wiggling the worn leather football at the dog who dropped to his stomach with his tail wagging rapidly.
"go long!" you waved for mapi to back up as she jogged to create some distance between the pair of you. "remember how?" mapi cupped her hands over her mouth as you nodded, adjusting your grip on the NFL ball you'd brought back from your trip to texas in the pre-season.
before the season started properly you'd gone home to see your family for one of your older brothers birthdays, having gotten a cowboys jersey and the ball as him for a present. only the moment you'd stepped past the front door all four dogs had rushed at you, the ball snatched from your hand and rapidly becoming their present now.
"diego. vamos!" you yelled, launching the football toward mapi who side stepped to catch it, diego just arriving in front of her before she'd tossed the ball back to you, diego sprinting between the two of you and barking happily as you threw the ball back and forth.
you were still doing that same thing when ingrid and alexia returned, coffees in hand for all four of you as well as a water bottle for diego who was rapidly running out of steam, merely trotting between the pair of you now.
spotting her girlfriend mapi called it quits, dropping the ball and racing over as you rolled your eyes and went off to retrieve it, diego padding tiredly after you as you clipped his leash back on and tucked the ball under your arm and grabbing his backpack with the other.
grabbing out the portable water bowl you thanked ingrid as she handed you the bottle, pouring some out for diego who collapsed to his stomach, eagerly lapping away as you left him to it beneath the table, well covered with the shade.
"decaf." alexia warned handing you the iced coffee as you rolled your eyes but kept your discontent to yourself.
olga was more than happy to pour you a proper coffee of a morning when alexia wasn't home, but the midfielder herself remained firm in her belief that you had more than enough energy without adding caffeine to it.
"pollito what is this?" mapi pulled a face as she tugged a heavy weighted vest out of the backpack.
"diegos anxiety vest! he gets night terrors and he is scared of thunder, it might storm this weekend." you explained with a shrug as if that was normal, missing the odd look shared between the three older girls at the picnic table.
"ven aquí pequeña, i want to try something." mapi beckoned you over, confusion in your features as she slipped the vest over your head. "amiga what-" alexia started, cut off as there was a loud thud, mapi's fist thumping against the vest and hitting you right in the stomach.
"maría!" ingrid gasped in shock, smacking the back of the defenders neck who choked on a mouthful of coffee and glared at her over her shoulder, coughing and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"qué? that did not hurt her! right?" she looked to you as you nodded in surprise, testing it again by punching yourself now and lighting up as you barely felt a thing.
"tonta! take that off, it smells." alexia sniffed the air and pulled a face, trying to pull it off you as you pushed her hands off, catching mapi's eye and suggestive grin, diegos football in her hands as she cocked an eyebrow at you.
it seemed the two of you had a brief and silent conversation across the table, alexia and ingrid clueless to your plans as you suddenly nodded and eagerly raced off after the tattooed zaragozan.
for once diego didn't follow you, just watching on tiredly from his shady recluse under the table as ingrids foot rubbed gently against his hip.
both ingrid and alexia watched on themselves, curious where this was going as you and mapi talked for a second before doing your handshake which had them both rolling their eyes, the two of you having been working on it as a goal celebration for weeks now.
once again mapi backed up to put some distance between the two of you, winding up to throw the ball as you squatted down ready to catch, the vest still sitting across your chest.
"oh no." ingrid realised first where this was going as mapi launched the ball and started to sprint toward you, the ball caught in your hands as you stood up and clearly braced yourself.
"qué son-" alexia didn't even get to finish her question before it was answered for her, mapi's body hurtling into yours and tackling you down to the ground, shoulder slamming into your stomach as there was a thump, your body hitting the grass.
alexia was up on her feet with a face like thunder, ready to march right over and pull the pair of you off one another, a lecture on the tip of her tongue as mapi rolled off of you and collapsed into a fit of laughter which you soon joined in with.
"estoy bien ale!" you yelled out, spotting alexia ready to make her way over and sending her a thumbs up and a wolfish grin, mapi hopping up and holding out a hand to help you do the same.
"they are idiots." alexia grumbled, a hint of a smile on her face but eyebrows furrowed together as she slowly sat back down with a shake of her head.
mapi's laughter again flew through the air as you'd grabbed her hand to be helped up, the older girl pulling you halfway before letting go and sending you thumping back down onto your back.
"but they are our idiots." ingrid added onto alexia's previous statement with a chuckle of her own, the two of them watching on with small smiles at you and mapi.
"puta!" you managed out between your own laughter, foot lashing out at mapi as she dodged it and tossed the football at you, collapsing beside you as it bounced off your head and you whined, launching at her as the two of you rolled around on the grass wrestling.
"sí. but still, they are idiots."
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planetaryupscaled · 6 months ago
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Better Girlfriend
Male Reader x Kim Jiwoo (Chuu)
Tags: 4k, cheating, oral, threesome
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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“For god’s sake Jiwoo, why don’t you just fuck him already!”
That was Jiwoo boyfriend and manager, Dohyun, we had been friends for several years now. We met while I was an intern at Blockberry Creative, but now I work for Modhaus while he works for ATRP. To cut to the chase, I’d always felt a little jealous of him. In many ways, but especially because he was dating Jiwoo. Heck, most of our friends are.
The majority of our friends were regular people, and we preferred to host house parties. It was simply too costly for us to go out every weekend. With the exception of Dohyun who had spent less time with us and more time with Jiwoo who preferred to go out. Until recently, Jiwoo was trying to be a ‘better girlfriend’ and was now hanging out more with us.
Jiwoo is a dorky, playful, and kind person who fits right in with the group. However, as time went on, Dohyun told me he began to suspect that what Jiwoo really enjoyed was having all of the other guys drool over her. While the other girls were also attractive, there was no denying that Jiwoo was one the hottest as she gradually began to dress sexier for each party, especially for tonight.
Tonight, me and my roommate Jiseok were hosting the party. It had been going on for about two hours. Aside from Dohyun, Jiseok, and myself, there were seven of our guy friends, three of their girlfriends, and, of course, Jiwoo.
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Jiwoo wore a tight white crop top that revealed her toned midriff and the exact outline of her perky breast, paired with tight short shorts that showed her smooth thighs, making it clear that she was dressed to show off her body. Weeks ago, Dohyun liked the idea of showing off his hot girlfriend, but tonight, after a couple rounds of beer, he changed his mind, not too keen about the idea.
In the kitchen, our friend Minsoo, a constant flirt with Jiwoo while Dohyun was keeping a drunken eye on them from across the room. Minsoo said something that made Jiwoo crack up, and when she put her hand on Minsoo’s arm while laughing, and just like that, Dohyun snapped.
“For god’s sake Jiwoo, why don’t you just fuck him already!” Dohyun drunkenly yelled from across the room and the apartment fell in stunned silence.
“What?” Jiwoo questioned.
“Bro, what are you talking about?” Minsoo asked.
“Shut the fuck up!” Dohyun yelled as he stormed across the room. “Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with my girlfriend whenever you think I’m not looking.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know the deal, bros before hoes” Minsoo respond.
“Oh so now my girlfriend is a whore?”
“Dohyun you know that not what he…” Jiwoo started before being interrupted.
“And you…” Dohyun said as he turned and pointed at Jiwoo. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been dressing around my friends the last few weeks. I know what’s going on.”
“Alright come with me.” Jiwoo said, dragging Dohyun by the arm back into one bedroom. The door slammed shut, and we could all hear the two of them shouting back and forth. This lasted for a few minutes, But to all of us out in the living room and kitchen, it felt more like half an hour. When we heard the door open, it was Dohyun who came out, just as angry as when he entered the bedroom.
“Try to remember to wear some condoms when you all run a train on her later” Dohyun yelled out before leaving the apartment. We all stood in silence looking at one another for a minute, when finally, Jiseok broke the silence.
“Wait, he’s not driving, is he?” Jiseok asked. Once again, we all found ourselves looking at each other before Jiseok jogging out the door, trying to catch Dohyun before he got into his car. As he walked out the door, Jiwoo came walking back into the room.
“Jiwoo, you alright?” I asked.
“Yeah I’m fine” Jiwoo said and she actually did sound perfectly fine. “I just hope that Dohyun’s diva moment didn’t ruin the party for everyone.”
Jiseok came back to the apartment a few minutes later, saying that he was too late and Dohyun had already left. It took some time, but eventually the party did get going again. I kept an eye on Jiwoo all night, and she generally acted as if nothing had happened. She continued to joke with people and dance to the music, but I noticed she was always holding a cup.
At one point, I noticed her sitting alone on a step stool, legs splayed out in front of her. I walked over to her and squatted down.
“Hey Jiwoo, how you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“You sure you feeling, okay?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling really gooood.” She said lifting one of her legs and tapped her boot against my crotch. I wasn’t sure if she meant to do that or not, but I assumed she was just drunk and didn’t think about it. Standing up I went back to the rest of the people in the living room and Jiwoo soon rejoined us as well.
At around 2 a.m., when the party began to wind down. As people began to order cabs and head home, I went into my bedroom and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. At that point, I remembered Jiwoo said she left her phone in Dohyun’s car, so I decided to check to see if she needed a ride home. I left my room and called her name but received no response, so I went to check the apartment. The shared bathroom was empty, the door to Jiseok’s room was half open, and he was asleep alone on the bed; in the kitchen, our friend Mingyu was passed out sitting at the kitchen table; and finally, I checked the living room.
When I looked inside, I got the shock of my life. Minsoo was seated on the far side of the couch while Jiwoo was on all fours, giving him a blowjob.
“Oh god Jiwoo, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long” Minsoo said, with his pants around his ankles and a hand on Jiwoo head, moaned as his head leaned back, He was clearly enjoying the feeling of Jiwoo’s lips going up and down his cock.
“Holy shit” I said reflexively. Both of them immediately looked my way when they heard me. Jiwoo looking fairly surprised and embarrassed while Minsoo had the biggest shit eating grin on his face.
“Sorry, I was just checking to see if Jiwoo needed a ride home.”
“No, I’m fine. Though if you stick around, I might give you a ride” Jiwoo said flirtatiously.
99 times out of 100 there is no way I would mess around with my friend’s girlfriend, but I figured this might be my only shot with Jiwoo. Plus, she was already blowing off another of our friends, so what’s the difference, right?
“So what ever happened to ‘Bros before Hoes’, Minsoo?” I asked as I approached the couch.
“That rule only applies to girls that 8s or lower, and... fuck she really good at this.” Minsoo, who was clearly very drunk, lost his thought as Jiwoo returned to sucking his cock.
“…and also, celebrities are excluded from the rule if you’re a non-celebrity.” He added, but I’m pretty sure he just made that up. I also think most guys would probably agree to those terms.
Jiwoo went right back to sucking Minsoo’s - Meanwhile, I moved to the other side of the couch, positioning myself behind her. Reaching around her waist, I unsnapped her shorts and pulled them down to her knees, revealing a black lace thong firmly entrenched between her cheeks. Then peeling down her thong. It revealed two moist, perfectly smooth pussy lips between her legs. I still could not believe that this was happening. I slid my hand between her legs, rubbing her wet claim. Slipping a finger between her lips, her legs kicked up slightly, and she let out a muffled moan around our friend’s cock.
“Mmmfff…gluck…gluck…mmffaahh…”
Jiwoo’s pussy felt tight and hot around my fingertip. Pulling it out, I stuck my finger in my mouth to taste her juices. After cleaning my finger, I headed straight for the source. I bent down, stuck my head between her legs, and started lapping up her pussy.
“Nnhhh god, yes! Use that tongue…” Jiwoo called out as I ate her pussy. Jiwoo went to put Minsoo back into her mouth, but he stopped her.
“No, no. I’m close, and I’m saving it for that pussy.” he said.
Pulling my head out from the between Jiwoo thighs, “You’ll have to wait, I’m not stopping until I make her pop,” I told him.
“Sounds good to me” Jiwoo said. I then grabbed one of her legs and flipped her over onto her back. Pulling her shorts and thong all the way down, I split her legs wide open and dove down between them. “Oh wow!” Jiwoo giggled. “Oh Tae, you really know how to use your tongue.” Jiwoo cupped her own breast through her top while her other hand was on the back of my head to keep me in place between her legs. I enjoyed sucking the tangy nectar from her cunt, but I moved my mouth up and began sucking on her clit while finger fucked her. This drove Jiwoo insane, and she clamped her legs around my neck.
“Ahnn yes! yes! YESnghh!” Jiwoo was getting closer and closer to climaxing. Jiwoo gripped the couch tightly and pressed her hips hard against my face. “Uggghhhh yes, yes, fucknnh!” Jiwoo yelled as she squirted a generous amount of her love juice all over my face.
“All right my turn.” Minsoo announced before Jiwoo could catch her breath. He got up from the arm of the couch, desperate for a chance to fuck the girlfriend. Jiwoo offered little resistance as he flipped her around and got her on all fours so he could fuck her doggy style. Jiwoo and I were looking at each other face to face, with her on all fours and me sitting back up.
Once again, I felt as though I was not in control of my own movement as I took Jiwoo by the back of her head and drew her in for a passionate kiss. I had been wanting to do this for a long time. Jiwoo was just as into the kiss as I was, slipping her tongue into my mouth. She let out a squeal into my mouth as Minsoo buried his cock inside her cunt.
“Fuck, bro! Her pussy is amazing!” Minsoo said as he began fucking her. Breaking off the kiss Jiwoo looked me in the eye moaning softly as he fucked her from behind.
“Lose the pants” Jiwoo ordered. I quickly stood up, took off my shirt, and kicked off my sweatpants before sitting back down. “Oh Tae” Jiwoo said as her eyes beamed in surprise. She took hold of the base of my cock. “You’ve been holding out on me” she said as she slapped my cock against her cheek.
“What about me?” Minsoo asked as he slapped her ass, “How does this dick feel?”
“So good…” Jiwoo moaned.
“Damn right. Fuck. I’ve been dreaming about this moment since Dohyun introduced you.”
While that was going on, I positioned myself so that I had one foot on the ground, one knee on the couch, and my throbbing erection staring the Vocalist in the face. With Jiwoo being pounded from behind, she opened her mouth as she moaned, I shoved my dick in and began fucking her face, which she happily allowed.
If I had to think about it, I might have felt mixed feeling about what was happening. On the one hand, my first threesome is with my buddy, and my other friend’s girlfriend makes me look like a total asshole, but on the other hand, spit roasting the tight idol is probably one of the highlights of my life.
After a minute or two, Minsoo and I found a rhythm, basically sawing the beautiful idol while plugging two of her holes. When he pulls back from her cunt, my cock slides down her throat, and when I pull back, he pounds back into her. We carried on like this until Jiwoo fully pulled me out of her mouth so that she could lick her tongue around my length before sliding down to lick the base of my shaft. The whole thing felt fantastic, and it would have been perfect if Minsoo had just shut his mouth.
“Come on Jiwoo Tell me I’m better than Dohyun. Tell me I fuck you better than he does.” I don’t know if this was Minsoo just trying to talk dirty or if the booze in his system was unleashing some deep seeded resentment toward Dohyun, but either way he was obsessed with being told he was better. “Come on Jiwoo, I’ve heard him fuck in his dressing room. I know Dohyun is a quick draw. Tell me how much better I am than that jackass!” At this point Minsoo was hammering her pussy with everything he had.
Jiwoo also seemed to have become annoyed with Minsoo. “Fine! You’re better, happy?” Jiwoo dropped my balls from her mouth and turned her head around to say. “You fuck me better than Dohyun does.” she told him. Then in a real sultry voice she said “And Dohyun cums even faster when I let him fuck my tight little ass.”
“Wha… I...” Minsoo absolutely froze after Jiwoo said that. For a second, I thought he had a stroke, but apparently the thought of drilling her in the ass was way too much for him as he then pulled out and erupted all over Jiwoo’ ass and back. Minsoo collapsed and passed out in a drunken haze after covering her ass and lower back with his load. With his now gone, Jiwoo returned to me.
“I knew he would love that,” she said.
“Do you really do anal?”
“Maybe…” Jiwoo said with a seductive smile. “Now it’s time to take care of you.” She began to sit up, but I stopped her.
“Finish what you started. I want to cum in your pretty mouth.”
“Are you sure? Will you be able to fuck me afterward?”
“Trust me, after tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to be around you without being hard.” Jiwoo grabbed my head and pulled me in for another passionate kiss.
“By the way, your dick is much thicker than either of your friends. I love how it stretches out my mouth” Jiwoo said as she went down to the floor between my legs before taking me back in her mouth. Now with her full attention focused on me, she was able to show off all of her blow jobs skills. I couldn’t help but moan as she deep throated me to the best of her ability keeping her gaze fixed on mine.
“You are really good at this” I told her as she ran her lips up the side of my saliva-coated shaft.
“We Idols like to compare notes and share tips while on set” Jiwoo explained before attacking my cock with her mouth once more. After another minutes of deep throating, she had me ready to burst.
“Gonna cum…” Despite the warning, Jiwoo did not slow down at all. I started firing my load into the back of her throat, and she swallowed as I filled her mouth. When I was finished, Jiwoo gave me a couple of hard sucks to ensure she had fully emptied my load. She then released my cock with a loud pop and opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue to demonstrate that she had swallowed my entire load.
Like I promised, my dick was still rock hard after cumming into her mouth. Jiwoo then stood up and stripped off her top, exposing her small, perky breast. She now gave me a 360-degree turn before striking a pose as she stood in front of me, showing off her body dressed only in black boots.
“Tell me, have you ever masturbated thinking about me?”
“Yes,” I confessed, “multiple times.”
“Well, I hope I live up to your fantasies.” Jiwoo spun around and took hold of my dick, ensuring it was pointing straight up as she sat down on my lap. She ran my crown along her wanting lips before finding the right angle and sinking down. Though I’m girthier than my friend, the freshly fucked Jiwoo had little difficulty taking me into her tight, wet pussy.
“Ughhh you feel even better than I imagined” Jiwoo moaned as she bottomed out on my dick.
“You’ve thought about this before?”
“Umhhmmm…” Jiwoo began working my cock with her pussy “You’re cute, you’re nice, and remember a couple of weeks ago when Dohyun was a total ass, he got so drunk that you had to carry him to bed and then drive me home?”
“Yeah?”
“That night, I was so horny that I spent over an hour with my toy thinking about you.” Jiwoo was starting to bounce on my cock reverse cowgirl style, and I could feel her hand rubbing against her clit as I thrust in and out of her. Hearing that Jiwoo had masturbated thinking about me was mind blowing. I grabbed her by the hips and began slamming her down on my cock. “Yes, yes, pound my pussy! Nghhh I’m gonna cum…!”
“Spin around; I want to see your face when you cum on my dick,” I told her and she reacted immediately. Jumping up off my dick, Jiwoo spun around and pounced onto the couch. She quickly slammed her hips back down on my lap and fucked me hard. I watched Jiwoo face contort in pleasure as she rode me until her pussy clamped down on my cock, her body seized, and she let out a silent scream while cumming.
“Ughhh...Tae that was good” Jiwoo said as she came down from her high.
“We’re not done yet.” I told her as grabbed her hips and continued to thrust in and out of her.
“Yes! nghhh, next time me and Dohyun get in a fight instead of calling my friends, I think I’ll just come here and take my frustrations out on your dick again.” Jiwoo said between breaths as I continued to pound her.
“If it means we can do this again, I’ll come to you and fuck you in front of Dohyun. I don’t care.” Jiwoo once again kissed me passionately after I told her this. The two of us made out while we grinding our crotches together. Cupping her perky tits as I teased her nipples.
Jiwoo pushed me hard up against the back of the couch. “Sit back and let me milk your thick dick for everything you got.” Jiwoo once again started working her hips up and down my meat as fast as she could, and I could feel her try to flex her pussy muscles around my dick as she rode me.
“Oh god Jiwoo, I’m going to cum soon” I warned her as she continued to bounce wildly on my cock.
“Me too.” Said a male voice that caught both of me and Jiwoo by surprise. We both froze and looked to the kitchen and saw Mingyu standing in the doorway stroking his dick. Jiwoo looked back at me and then gave me a smile before turning back towards Mingyu.
“Like what you see?” Jiwoo asked seductively.
“Uh huh. You’re so much hotter than I thought.” Mingyu drunkenly slurred as he continued to stroke himself.
“Then come here...” She told him. I let off a disappointed groan as Jiwoo dismounted off my cock. Mingyu staggered forward as Jiwoo grabbed my hand indicating she wanted me to stand up and follow her. The three of us all came together in the middle of the living room. Jiwoo then took hold of both dicks before sinking down to her knees. Looking up at me she gave the head of my dick a kiss, then she turned towards Mingyu and did the same.
As she began stroking me, she stuck out her tongue and began liking the dip of Mingyu’s cock. She kept her eyes looking up the whole time as she took him into her mouth and began sucking his cock. She continued like this, stroking me and sucking him, for about a minute and then she switched it. I looked down into her brown eye as she sucked my cock for about a minute or two before switch back. I don’t know for a fact that this wasn’t the first time that Jiwoo had blown two guys at the same time, but she seemed to have full control of the situation and seemed to know full well what she was doing switching back and forth between our cocks.
“Oh yeah, that’s it. That’s it” Mingyu said, leaning back as Jiwoo sucked his dick hard. It was obvious he was about to cum though, Mingyu, being as drunk as he was lost his balance and stumbled two steps backwards, pulling his dick out of her mouth. However, with his dick still in her hand and it aimed at her face, he blasted his load directly onto Jiwoo’ face.
“Jiwoo, turn to me, close your eyes, and smile” I demanded. Jiwoo quickly did as I said. Seeing here there with a big smile with streaks of cum across her face pushed me over the edge. She stroked my dick as I came hard. Jiwoo giggled as my cum splashed against her face.
Next thing I know, I'm waking up with a delightful sigh as the sun shines through the window. I don't remember how I got to my room last night, but I recall having a really vivid dream about having sex with my friend's girlfriend. As my hangover grogginess faded away I realized that it wasn’t a vivid dream I was still experiencing, but rather there were a real set of lips sucking on my morning wood. Moving the pillows behind me, I sat up, and I could see that someone was hiding under my comforter. Whipping the comforter off the bed revealed a nude Jiwoo. She was resting on her knees and elbows between my legs with my hard cock in her mouth and her ass sticking up in the air. I can only imagine the dumbstruck look on my face as I looked down at Jiwoo and she looked up at me. I could also see a small smile come across her lips and she gave me a wink as she continued to blow me.
The memory of what I thought had been a dream just a few minutes ago, flooded back into my mind. While I still had no recollection of how we made it to my bedroom, but I did remember walking in on her and my friend in the living room, spit roasting in a devil’s three-way, and having the former Disney actress rid me on the couch. With Jiwoo now using her tongue to play with my cock head in her mouth, I could not hold back much longer. I put my hand on the back of her head and pushed her head down my cock.
“Time for breakfast” I said before unleashing my load down her throat. Jiwoo actually choked up a bit halfway through me emptying my balls causing some cum to leak out of her mouth.
“Holy crap Jiwoo, I can’t believe that actually happened” I said after I finally came down from my high from cumming.
“I need a ride home and you were not waking up so” Jiwoo casually shrugged her shoulders while sitting up, giving me a great daylight view of her breasts. “Plus your boner was pressing into my ass most of the night, so I thought a morning blowy would do the trick.”
“Yeah but what about Dohyun? I mean I know what happened last night happened because you were drunk...”
“What?” Jiwoo interrupted me, “I wasn’t drunk last night.”
“But I saw you. You were drinking all night.” I was extremely confused.
“Hmm, but I was just drinking juice. I had a photoshoot later today and didn't want to get drunk and be all bloated and groggy.” She then wiped some cum from the corner of her mouth and sucked her finger clean.
“So, can you give me a ride home? If you get me home with enough time before I need to leave, I’ll let you shower with me...”
“All right, let’s go...”
632 notes · View notes
arieslost · 11 months ago
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cinnamon whiskey | ln4
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lando norris x fem!writer!reader
summary: you meet a famous race car driver in one of the last places you’d expect— the adirondacks.
word count: 4,578
warnings: drinking, minor injuries (small description of bruising)
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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Your editor was going to kill you.
Every day brought you closer to the deadline for your manuscript, and every day you could hardly help yourself out in getting to your self-imposed goal of 1,000 words. It wasn’t a difficult feat; you’d done it before, and you didn’t have anything else to be doing. You had absolutely zero distractions: it was just you, your notebook, and your computer. There was only one problem.
The words just weren’t coming to you, and you’d already gotten a two week extension on the deadline. It felt like all your writing abilities had been rescinded.
“I’m screwed.” You professed to your best friend, falling into a pathetic heap on her couch. You needed a serious pick-me-up after struggling to write a measly paragraph, and she had readily offered a girls night.
“I think you’re being a little dramatic. Scoot over.” She replied, shoving your legs out of the way so she could sit. “Maybe you just need to get out of your house.”
“And go where? I can’t just pack up and take a vacation right now.” You grumbled into the couch cushion.
“Why don’t you go upstate?” She suggested after a moment of silence.
“Upstate?” You repeated.
“Yeah, go to the Adirondacks. My dad owns a house up there, remember? We had a blast the last time we were there.”
You and your best friend had gone up to the Adirondacks when you graduated college, and you always prefaced the retelling of it with, “It was one of the best weeks of my life.” You almost felt silly for not thinking of doing something like that in the first place.
“It might be a good idea… Do you think your dad would be okay with me staying there?”
Your best friend laughed. “Yes, you idiot. He’s let me stay there by myself, he’ll definitely let you.”
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A mere 24 hours went by, and you were settled in a cozy cabin in the Adirondacks with the desperate hope of having the rest of your manuscript ready by the end of your stay. Otherwise, you might as well just fire yourself and save your editor some time.
It wasn’t the only cabin in the area– it was more like a very small community made up of six houses built exactly the same. The area was usually used by people with a decent amount of cash lining their pockets, so you were extra grateful to your best friend’s father. He had taken one look at the dejection on your face when your best friend had mentioned her grand idea, and simply handed you the keys with the promise that your stay would be free of charge.
You did feel a little out of place, though– you could have sworn one of your neighbors was in a movie you’d just watched, and another one was just so ridiculously attractive there was no way he wasn’t famous for something. You’d seen him out on his front porch when you arrived, and had to force yourself not to stare or salivate over his bare torso.
The change of scenery around you helped tremendously. At first. You always felt refreshed when you went somewhere new, particularly if it was somewhere you felt more connected to nature. You had gotten into the habit of taking walks to calm yourself when you got frustrated, and having new sights was definitely an exciting prospect for when you inevitably slammed your computer shut and stormed out the door like you just did a few moments ago.
You’ll be the first to admit it: the story just isn’t coming together. Your main character has a goal, a purpose, but she is entirely lacking any kind of driving force to get where she needs to go.
She has no motivation.
You can appreciate irony, but there’s nothing funny about it right now.
The dirt and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk down the first trail that you see. It branches off from the main path that runs between all of the houses: yours, the attractive guy’s, and one other, and then the suspected movie star’s and the other two on the other side. Right now, you just want to see nothing but the path before you, the trees in your peripheral vision, the gentle summer breeze in your hair, and maybe a chipmunk or a squirrel here and there.
But, of course, you can’t even have that. You’re alone with your thoughts for all of two seconds before you hear a crash off to your left that sends a few birds flying. You would have ignored it if not for the groan that immediately followed.
“Um… hello?” You call out, doubling back to try and see just what the hell had happened.
If you were in a horror movie, this would most certainly be your death scene.
“Ah…” It’s definitely a man, and he definitely sounds like he’s in pain.
“Are you okay?” You step off the path, getting closer to where the noise had come from.
That’s where you find him— your insanely attractive neighbor, practically in the fetal position, entirely focused on the camera in his hand. His jaw is clenched, whether in pain or concern for the camera, you don’t know. You just know he has a sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and curly hair.
Ugh, you could cry because he’s so good looking.
He looks up at you, eyes meeting yours, and he has the decency to look embarrassed.
“What the hell just happened to you?”
“I, um… I fell out of that tree.” He confesses, pointing to a branch, not too high up, but now dangling in half.
“And you were in the tree because…” You trail off, gesturing for him to explain further.
“Right, well, I was taking pictures and had an idea for a good one from a higher vantage point, so I climbed the tree. Thought I had a good balance, but—” He winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t.”
“No kidding. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.” You marvel, hands held out in front of you just in case he falls over when he starts standing up.
“I’m not too sure about that.” He huffs out a pained laugh.
“You wouldn’t have been able to stand up so easily if you had, and your wrist and shoulder look fine.” You point out. “I have no doubt that you bruised your side up pretty badly though.”
“Yeah? How would you know?” He leans against the tree he just fell out of, his miraculously unbroken camera hanging from the strap around his neck.
“I’m a writer. I’m like a black hole of useless information.”
“I don’t think it’s useless anymore.” He takes a step forward and his face immediately contorts into a grimace. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Well, you’ve already asked so much of me, but if you really have to, then sure.” You tease, and he laughs again.
“I’m probably going to need some help getting back to the house,” he begins, and then continues after taking in the surprised look on your face. “But you don’t have to. I can just crawl or something. Maybe I’ll get lucky and make it back before nightfall.”
Not just attractive, but funny too? You might as well make the most out of these two weeks and use whatever you can to help you finish that dreaded manuscript. Besides, the only other person you’ve ever met who can hold a torch to your sense of humor is your best friend. This has to be a sign of some sort.
“Alright, but at least tell me your name first.”
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His name is Lando, you’ve known him for an hour, and you think you’re in love with him.
Sure, you’re frustrated that he completely ruined the solitude that you craved, but the ice maker in his house is broken and he desperately needs some for the bruise that you know is darkening by the second underneath his t-shirt. So he’s sprawled out on your couch, and you’re in the kitchen collecting ice cubes to wrap up in a hand towel.
“Alright, lift your shirt up,” you instruct, walking into the living room and taking a seat beside him.
“I usually take a girl out before I let her see me half naked.”
“But it’s okay if everyone else sees you out on your porch half naked?”
“You were looking?” He tilts his head down a little and raises his eyebrows. “Liked what you saw, did you?”
You blush. “Just shut up and lift your shirt.”
He hums a little to himself as he pulls his shirt up, revealing the beginnings of a bruise on his tan skin that is already swollen and definitely going to get worse over the next couple of days. It looks like it continues below the waistband of his boxers, but you’re not about to tell him to pull his pants down.
“That’s ugly.”
“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs, biting his lip when you gently rest the makeshift ice pack against his side.
“You have a habit of falling out of trees?”
“I have a habit of being in potentially life-threatening situations. It’s kinda part of my job.” He says it like he’s waiting for you to figure something out, waiting for something to click.
You take a moment to just look at him again. His fluffy curls, his infuriatingly handsome face, his thick neck, his toned stomach. And then something you’ve heard your best friend say a million times echoes in your head.
I bet every F1 driver’s contract has a clause that says they have to be hot in order to get in. I mean, you have Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc, and don’t even get me started on–
“Oh my God. Lando Norris?” You exclaim, almost jumping up from shock but stopping yourself so you don’t jostle him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I thought you knew!”
You glare at him. “Cocky much?”
“Well, what did you think when I told you my name?” He asks defensively.
“I don’t know, I thought your parents really liked Star Wars or something.”
He scoffs at this and smacks your hand away, holding the ice himself. “That’s real creative.”
“I’m sorry! My best friend is really into Formula One, but the most I’ve seen is bits and pieces of a race. I’ve never seen you, y’know, not in your car.” You feel like your eyes are practically bugging out of your head. “Wow, this is insane.” You knew he was too good looking to not be famous.
“Want me to sign something for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“I will punch you right in your bruise.”
He stays for a couple more hours, readily enduring your endless stream of questions that follow your revelation of him being a Formula One driver, only getting a reprieve when the ice melts and you have to go get more.
He compensates for recounting his entire journey to Formula One by asking you his own questions the moment he’s done. You tell him more about how you became a writer– how you got your bachelor’s degree, got out into the world, and realized you had no clue what you wanted to do with your life, so you took a retail job. It paid a dollar above minimum wage, but it was worth it when something you heard a customer say once inspired you to craft a narrative that your editor liked enough to pick it up. She’d taken a gamble on you; you were her fourth client and the book wasn’t finished yet.
“So that’s why I’m out here,” you pause to catch your breath. “I need to have the manuscript done two weeks from yesterday, and I wasn’t getting anything done at home.”
“Needed a change of scenery.” Lando nods, like he can read your mind.
“Exactly.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious under his intense gaze but refusing to look away.
The energy in the room shifts as the two of you look at each other, and you break the sudden eye contact when you take note of the fact that it’s dark out.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he breaks the silence, pulling his shirt back down and letting out a quiet groan as he gets up. “I’ll see you tomorrow? There’s no way someone will be able to get up here to fix my ice machine by the morning.”
You blink at him a couple times, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you just spent hours talking with Lando Norris, all because he fell out of a tree. You didn’t even offer to make him dinner or anything, and he’s making plans to do this all over again.
You still haven’t spoken, so he waves his hand in front of your face. “Oh! Yeah, of course. Be careful, okay?”
He gives you an obnoxious salute. “I’ll try to survive the 50 steps it takes to get to my place from here.”
You go running for your laptop and start writing as soon as he’s gone.
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He’s at your door in the morning, and spends the whole day with you. Then the next, and the next, and the next thing you know, you only have four days left in your best friend’s dad’s house and it feels like you and Lando have known each other your entire lives. He isn’t able to do much in terms of physical activity, and when he trips over a root after insisting he’s fine you make the executive decision to go back to your house.
“Make some room, would you?” You sigh, looking for a place to sit thanks to the fact that he’s taking up the entire couch.
He simply lifts his head up.
“You’re joking, right?”
“I’m in pain. Don’t you want me to be comfortable?” He pouts at you.
“You’re insufferable, and a liar.” All the same, you sit down, and he rests his head in your lap.
He ignores you, eyes closed with a satisfied little smile on his face.
For his antics, you decide to disturb his newfound peace by putting the ice pack directly on his face and laugh when he bats it away.
“That’s just mean,” he whines, pressing his lips together when you put the ice on his bruise.
It’s mostly yellow and green now, like a weird rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Lando had made a game out of poking it two nights ago that ended just as quickly when he poked himself too hard and blamed you for it when you had been in the middle of telling him not to. After that, he hadn’t touched it, and now it looks a lot better. The ice probably isn’t needed anymore, but you’d prefer to err on the side of caution.
“You’ll live,” you say now, patting the top of his head to distract him from the discomfort.
“The last time I had a bruise this bad was when I crashed in Vegas last year.” He says, blinking up at the ceiling. “Took a while to go away.”
“I think I remember hearing about that. You crashed pretty early, no?”
“Yup. Barely got to race.” The sentences come out very clipped, like he’s still upset about it.
“It was a bad crash, huh?”
“Pretty bad.” You don’t have anything to say in response to that, so you start brushing your fingers through his curls. He relaxes instantaneously.
He almost falls asleep with his head in your lap, and that’s when you can’t take it anymore and have to kick him out. He’s almost to the last step when he stops and turns back, making direct eye contact with you.
“Y’know, it’s too bad you weren’t there when I crashed.” He gives you a soft smile. “You’re pretty good at taking care of me.”
Well, shit.
There’s a bottle of cinnamon whiskey sitting in one of the kitchen cabinets that you’ve been waiting for an excuse to open. You should drink it now when you’re thinking about him, but you decide to wait until you see him again.
You open your laptop and write until you fall asleep.
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By the time you let him in the next morning, you’re stumped again. You only slept for a few hours and expected to get right back into your groove the moment you woke up, but when you read over what you wrote last night, your brain just refused to comprehend it. It feels like you’re back to square one, but you can’t be too upset about it when Lando makes his way through the door. He doesn’t mention anything about ice like he usually does, which makes you equally happy and disappointed. Happy that he’s feeling good enough to forego the ice, disappointed because that means that there’s really no reason for him to come over anymore.
But if there’s one thing you can expect from him, it’s his spontaneity.
“We should go out tonight.”
“And where exactly would we be going?” You ask, watching him kick back on the couch like he’s the one that lives here.
“I dunno, just outside, I guess. You like stargazing?”
“I love it.” You reply enthusiastically. “I bet the stars are gorgeous out here. I’ve been cooped up every night, I haven’t had the chance to see them.”
“It’s settled then. Cancel your plans, you’re all mine tonight.”
“I didn’t— never mind.” You silently will away the flush creeping up your neck. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“How’d those pictures come out? The ones you were trying to take when you fell?” You lean over the back of the couch in order to actually see him as you’re talking to him.
“That was two questions.” He laughs when you smack his shoulder. “I got a couple action shots as I was falling. They’re terrible, but I’m thinking about keeping them for the memories. Fun story for the kids, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” The kids?! You’re definitely breaking out the whiskey tonight. It’s the first (and only) thing you grab when he goes back to his place to get a blanket.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask the moment the two of you step onto the trail, and he puts a hand over his heart.
“Your concern for me is adorable.”
“I’m only asking because you almost ate shit last time.” You burst out laughing at the immediate change in his expression.
He ends up leading the way for a mile or two before you reach a clearing that you would’ve discovered had he not fallen out of the tree.
“This is beautiful,” you muse, taking in your surroundings as Lando lays the blanket on the ground.
The sun is just about set, a light breeze passing through; a few different wildflowers are waving throughout the clearing. You look around and can’t see any sign of civilization. While that should make you nervous, since you’re with a guy you’ve only known for less than two weeks, it instead makes you relax. You forget entirely about your computer waiting for you back at the house and busy yourself with getting the top off the whiskey bottle.
“Found it the second day I was here. I’ll have to show you the pictures I got once I upload them all.” Lando says, furrowing his eyebrows as you struggle with your task. “Need some help there?”
“Be my guest,” you hand it over and have to force yourself to remain calm when he pops the top off like it was nothing.
“Ladies first,” he hands it back.
With pleasure, you think to yourself. Maybe getting drunk will help you stop acting like a schoolgirl. You take a generous drink, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing out slowly. “That is strong.”
“Hand it over.” He lets out a low whistle as soon as he swallows and returns it to you. “Wow.”
“I actually had a dream like this once,” you say, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. “I was just laying there, staring at the stars, with no worries. It was so peaceful.”
Lando takes the bottle from your outstretched hand. “I don’t dream.”
“What?!” The high pitch of your voice slices through the night. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.” He takes a long sip from the bottle before placing it down in the space between you. “Never have.”
“That’s- that’s crazy.” You shake your head.
“I’d think it’s nicer that way, no?” he counters. “I probably sleep better than you.”
“I mean, I guess. But then you don’t have any crazy dreams to share.”
“You always remember your dreams?”
Now, you blush. You’re not sure why you’re embarrassed. “I, um… I keep a journal.”
Lando’s eyes widen. “No way.”
“I have dreams written down all the way back to 2015.” You confess, reaching for the bottle again.
He starts laughing, like he thinks you’re joking.
“I’m serious!” You exclaim, shoving his shoulder. “In my defense, I’ve actually come up with some ideas from my dreams. Fat lot of good they’re doing for me right now, but…”
Lando hums, eyes skimming over your now crestfallen expression. He passes the bottle back.
“Thanks,” you mumble, tilting the bottle up to your lips.
“I’m sure you’ll find some type of inspiration while we’re out here.”
“I only have two days left, Lan.”
He gestures for you to pass the bottle back, and you do. You watch as he takes a sip, looking from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck, to his Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. You’re really going to miss this view. He lets out a quiet hiss. “Damn, that’s strong whiskey.”
“I told you.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, and then he speaks again. “My ice machine got fixed.”
“That’s—”
“Last week.” He cuts you off, doing that stupid thing he does where he stares directly into your eyes.
Your heart is in your throat, and your voice is small when you reply. “Okay…”
“And I was supposed to leave three days ago.”
Now your jaw drops. “Why… Why are you still here?”
“Because you’re still here.” He answers evenly, the alcohol clearly working in his favor. “I initially came here for the same reason as you– needed a change of scenery. It’s summer break right now, and my friend Logan told me it was super nice up here. It is, but then I had my little mishap and… it’s been a lot better since you showed up. So I decided to stay a little longer.”
He’s close to you now, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath, so you say the only thing you can think to say. “I can’t believe you fell out of a tree.”
“I can’t believe you took care of me this whole time.” He brushes your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.
Your internal giddiness rises when you realize he’s actually about to kiss you. Your stomach is doing Olympic level gymnastics and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you let the whiskey do it for you: you kiss him first.
You can’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, but the moment he pulls you on top of him you know that you won’t ever forget kissing him.
“Lan…” you break away from him to catch your breath, smoothing his curls back from his forehead. You can just see the glint in his eyes as he stares up at you, and it’s borderline painful knowing that you only get to enjoy this view for two more days.
You don’t remember what you were going to say to him. It’s way too soon for “I love you,” and not the right time to say “I already miss you.” You still want to say both.
Like he can hear your inner turmoil, he silences it by touching his forehead to yours. “Kiss me again, please,” he whispers.
You don’t waste a second in giving him what he wants, wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel his lips against yours again. You’re careful to avoid his side as he lays back on the blanket, keeping a firm grip on your hips so you don’t go anywhere. You try to convey everything you want to say into the kiss: I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I know I’m going to miss you. Please don’t let me go.
He holds you closer and gently slips his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him, knowing the whole while that Lando Norris has effectively ruined all other men for you.
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Six Months Later.
Your phone is ringing in the other room as you’re in the middle of recounting the kiss to your best friend for the millionth time.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you apologize. “It might be important.”
Thinking it’s your editor, because who else would call you at this late hour, you don’t look at the caller ID before you answer. “Hi, listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”
“The love interest falls out of a tree, huh?”
Your mouth falls open. “Lando?”
“That would be me. Or should I change my name to Darren?”
You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I thought you were never going to call me.”
You’d finished your manuscript the day before you went home. He’d been sleeping right next to you as you wrote the final words, and you should’ve brought it up that morning. Instead, you left your number on his porch the day you left, too deep in overthinking mode to actually face him and properly say goodbye. You truly didn’t expect him to call you after that act of such cowardice, especially after the two of you spent almost the entirety of your last days together at various levels of undress.
“I really wanted to,” he admits. “At least ten different times. I think Oscar might have assaulted me if I chickened out this time.”
“Yeah, because you won’t shut the hell up about her!” A voice in the background exclaims, and you hear something go flying.
“Get out!” Lando snaps, and you can hear Oscar’s laughter fading.
“Sweet of you to subject him to hearing all about me.”
“Come to the race at Silverstone.” He says before you can even finish your sentence. “I’ll pay for the flight, the hotel, everything. Just come.”
You feel like the floor just fell out from under your feet. “Lan—”
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” It’s said in a nearly unintelligible whisper, but his tone changes so suddenly you have to sit down.
“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” You confess. “That’s… kind of why I wrote you into my book.”
“Please, come to Silverstone,” he repeats, practically begging. “Come be with me.”
And when he finds you in the crowd after taking the win at his home race, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours for everyone to see, you’re immediately taken back to those two weeks you spent in the Adirondacks, where you finally found the inspiration you’d been missing your entire life.
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note: this one goes out to my fellow writers who desperately wish their inspiration would fall out of a tree— writer’s block will never defeat us.
this got a little long, so if you’re reading this, thank you thank you thank you.
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @anathedivine @xfuckoffx @architect-2015 @violetiss3lfish @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @whatever7justchillin @xoredmoonlightxo @dovieloovie @totowolffstablexoxo @maddie-bell @lalisgs11 @rrrraaaalllluuuu @formulasportworld @madisonbidaddy @anedpev @estherapz-blog @jess-wither @loveyatopluto @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @lou-larcher5 @clearlyabi @fizzpopsnap101 @fluerlaurent @mcmuppet @positiveaspirations @notturlover @crazymofo-96 @chanthereader @apollo-axolotl
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afro-hispwriter · 7 months ago
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My Dornish Love
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Aemond Targaryen x Martell!reader
Warnings- arranged marriages, heavy implications of masturbation
Wc- 2.3k
I don’t intend for this to be the only part, but we’ll see.
part 2
-
A marriage proposal between Martells and Targaryens isn’t unheard of. But the Martells always refuse in the end. They were far too stubborn and prideful the council members would think. 
There was a war coming, and everyone knew. The greens need all the support they can get. And having Dorne on their side can turn things around heavily. Dorne may not have large numbers of fighters, but their skills make up for it. 
When Qoren Martell received a letter from Queen Alicent in hopes that he would accept a marriage between his eldest daughter and her second son. Everyone expected the prince to decline, but he surprised everyone by agreeing. It was a tour for her to get to know the Prince but it was clear the decision had already been made regardless.
When you, the princess, found out. You were furious.
“I don’t understand, we have never accepted anything that would mean having Dorne become part of the kingdoms.” You paced in front of your father.
“And it is time to change that.” He says and you huff. 
“You know why they’re doing this, the Targaryens are on the brink of yet another war and they are making sure to bring everyone into it.” 
“We don’t know that.” 
“Yes we do, and you’re putting me in it.” When he didn’t respond you turned away to start walking away.
“Its simply a tour to see if you are compatible, Y/n. You and your brothers will be sailing for Kings Landing in two days, be ready.” 
-
Those two days came by quickly. Your handmaidens had some of your things packed for those three weeks and the ship loaders were finishing up. 
“What if I don’t like him?” You ask your father as both of you wait on the docks.
“Then you don’t marry him.”
“Im sure the decision is already made. This tour is just a formality.” You cross your arms. “You won’t even be there.”
“Your brothers will be there in my place.”
“What if he is cruel? Targaryen men are said to be cruel.” 
“Then I'm sure his death will be deemed a mere accident.” His voice almost had an amusing tone. A shipmaster called out that everything was ready. Qoren grabbed you by your arms and turned you to face him. “Write to me.”
“I will.” Your lip quivered and he kissed your forehead before grabbing your hand to guide you to a boat. Your brothers, Ryon and Deziel jumped in after you.
“Don’t miss us too much,” Deziel says waving at the man and Ryon rolls his eyes. 
“Don’t destroy Kings Landing,” Qoren says and walks away with his hands behind his back.
-
Aemond knew this conversation would come. This is what he was waiting for. He would do his duty, and he hoped the Dornish woman would agree. 
“I'm sure you hear how unprincipled the women of Dorne are, brother.” Aegon laughed next to Aemond. “They are wild in the brothels now imagine the princess herself.” Aemond continued to ignore him and paid attention to his book. “But I'm sure you know enough thanks to me.” Aemond tightened his hand on the book. “But I never see you have fun so you might have to rely on your betrothed.” 
Aemond slammed the book shut and stood up. 
“They will be here soon.” He says and starts walking out of the library. 
“The ship was only recently spotted and even then they are still a few days out. Don’t get your cock in a bunch.” Aegon mumbled the last bit into his cup. “Or maybe you can’t wait to stick-.” He was cut off by the library door slamming shut. 
-
Once the ship flying the flag of House Martell was seen on the Blackwater. The people of King's Landing were eager to see the Princes’ and the Princess themselves as most of them had only seen Dornish merchants.
The royal family went by carriage. Alicent gave her children one of her talks about being on their best behavior. It was mostly pointed at Aegon who sat there bored, Helaena sat fiddling with a bracelet, while Aemond looked out the windows. The carriage stopped just a few feet from the docks and a queen's guard member opened the door. Alicent stepped out first, followed by Helaena, then Aemond, and finally Aegon. 
A few ships had already docked. Mostly merchants were eager to set up their shops or make deliveries. The ship said to be carrying the princess and the princes docked and a plank was lowered. A herald of Dorne stepped out first and looked at the family. 
“Prince Ryon, Prince Deziel, and Princess Y/n Martell of Dorne!” People cheered loudly and clapped as they watched the three of you step off the boat. 
You grab Deziel’s hand and he helps you step off. The guards stepped off after and cleared a path. Ryon and Deziel kept their hands on the hilds of their swords as they began walking.
“I see the Queen and her children,” Ryon says and juts his chin over the hill. You looked over and saw the red-headed woman and the three silver-headed princes and princess. 
You looped yours and Deziel’s arms together and Ryon led you up the steps. You instantly saw the man who is your betrothed. He stood tall by his family, hands behind his back and a stoic look on his face. 
“The terrible, Prince Aemond,” Deziel whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes.
“Stop, I'm sure they are just rumors.” 
“Sure.” 
Ryon opened his arms with a smile.
“Your grace, how well it is to see you.” He says and grabs Alicents hands with care and brings them up to his plump lips. 
“Prince Ryon, the last time I saw you, you were a child.” She says with a slight blush. 
“Yes, well as you see. I have grown quite a bit.” If you knew your brother, you were sure he gave the queen a wink and his charming smile that makes so many women and men fall at his feet. Alicents face went redder and Ryon squeezed her hands before releasing them. “As much as I enjoy your presence, your grace, I was hoping to see the Hand. Speak to him about my sister and your second son.” Ryon flashed a look at Aemond.
“My father has other matters but I assure you, the Princess will be taken care of.” Ryon looked around before nodding.
“My brother will ride with all of you to the Keep as well. I still have other matters to deal with for my father.” 
“Of course.” The Queen says then looks at Aemond. “Aemond.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile and he knew what that meant. He stepped forward, his long legs had him in front of you. 
“Princess, I'm glad you are here.” His voice was cold but his face was neutral. He grabbed your hand and kissed it softly. You squint your eyes at him before smiling brightly.
“Prince Aemond, it is lovely to meet you.” 
“Hmm.” He dropped your hand and held his own back behind him. He stared at you, mostly taking you in while trying not to linger on your cleavage. Did you have a belly piercing? 
“Oh darling you should cover up a bit, someone brings the princess something to cover up.” Alicent urged and you instantly frowned.
“No it's alright your grace, I wear clothes like this all the time.” She gave you a tight-lipped smile before nodding.
“Well we best get back, you must be exhausted.” Alicent walked back to the carriage and Aemond stayed by you.
“Apologies about her, she is very modest.” He says and you shrug.
“Well, she is going to have to get used to it.” You say to him softly so nobody can hear. You received no response making you roll your eyes. 
“Let's get you home Princess.” You frowned.
Home?
-
When you sat next to Aemond in the carriage, your perfume hit his nostrils. You smelled heavenly, like fruit with a twinge of the salty sea. Nobody spoke on the road back to the Keep. 
But you and Deziel admired the outside. You had never been to Kings Landing so it was all new territory for you. It made you nervous. 
The horses stopped in front of the Keep and the door popped open. The Queen and Helaena left first, then Aegon, followed by Deziel, and finally you and Aemond. The castle was huge, you and Deziel started at it in awe. 
“It's quite ugly.” He says quietly you gasp and slapped his arm. 
“Deziel! Don’t say things like that.” Everyone looked at you in confusion so you just smiled reassuringly.  
“Our handmaiden, Thea.” Alicent beckoned over one of the servants. She was a pretty girl, with brown hair, fair skin, and green eyes. “I have assigned her to your service, she will lead you to your temporary chambers until a decision is made. Your brother as well will be shown his way.”
“Thank you, your grace.” She squeezes your bicep before leaving to go inside.
“Princess, would you like me to show you your room? I'm sure you are tired.” Thea asks and you nod.
“Lead the way.” She gives you a big smile before turning around. You start to follow her and you see Deziel had already been led away. You locked eyes with Aemond who stood by the horses now, watching you. “I will see you later, Prince Aemond.” 
-
“Your things will be brought up shortly princess, would you like me to draw you a bath in the meantime?” Thea asks and points to the small tub in your new room. 
“Yes and if you have any salts that would be greatly appreciated.” They did a small bow before leaving. You were finally alone, even if it were for a couple of minutes. Your new room was only a bit bigger than the one back in Dorne but extremely boring. 
You took the liberty of stepping onto the balcony to see where you would be living. The view was beautiful. Birds flew and you could see how tiny the small folk looked. 
It all still looked so sad, maybe it was the time of day but it made you miss Dorne all the same. They came in with some help to fill up the tub with warm water. She then dumped some soothing salts into the water.  
“Would you like help in undressing princess?” She asks and you shake your head. 
“No, that's quite alright, I will send for you once I'm ready.” She bowed and left. You hovered your hand over the water, letting the steam hit it. You slipped the material of your dress down your shoulder and it pooled at your feet. You kicked your flats off so they clattered on the floor. You grabbed the edges of the tub and slowly settled into the water. 
The warm water was welcoming after being at sea for over a week. You could have slept in it if it weren’t for a knock on the door. 
“Come in!” You yelled out and the door creaked open and you heard footsteps.
“Princess?” It was none other than your betrothed.
“Over here, Aemond.” You say and turn your head to face the panels that cover the tub from sight. 
“I wondered-.” Aemond rounded the corner and the second he locked eyes on your state, his long legs had him behind the panels again. 
“My apologies, I will leave you to your business.” He said and there was a slight shake to his voice.
“Cut the shit Aemond.” You say and he freezes. “Come back, I want to talk to you.” He didn’t move but you could see the top of his head. “I want to see the face of a man I might marry when I talk to him.”
“You’re not decent princess.”
“Oh stop being so honorable for 5 minutes please.” He heard the water move around. Aemond sighed before rounding the corner and revealing himself again. His breath hitched when he saw your figure, you sat facing him and the lack of bubbles gave him a clear view of your breasts. “Soak it in my prince, who knows how long it will be before you see me like this again.” 
Aemonds face turned pink at your words and suddenly his boots were the most interesting thing in the world.
“You stand strong but standing in the presence of a naked woman you shrink.” His fists squeezed. “Would you like to feel the touch of a woman?”
“What did you want to talk about my lady?” He says harshly, making you smirk. 
“I want to talk about our potential betrothal. Regardless of our choice, its clear this is dire enough that we need to get married but I will ask you , Aemond.” He looked up, this time his eye solely on your face. “Will you sleep with anyone else?”
“No, I will remain faithful to you during this as long as I receive the same from you. This isn’t Dorne.”
“I am aware, Aemond.” You frown. “I would like to get to know you though, maybe something good can come out of this.” His jaw tightened but it then relaxed.
“Of course, my lady.” 
“Y/n.” You say. “Call me by my name Aemond, we are going to get very close.”
“As you wish.” Aemonds hands went behind his back. 
“As much as I enjoy having you here, I'm sure they are close to bringing my things, so I can either make room in this tub for you or you best be on your way.” You say and grab the bar of soap and washcloth. “Or you can watch and just hide.” There was an amusing look on your face. 
He let out a ‘Hmm’ and gave you a small smile. 
“Another time, Y/n.” Your name rolled off his tongue so fluently. Aemond walked away until he made it to the door and shut it behind him. 
“You will be the death of me Aemond Targaryen.” And your hand dips into the water to find a home in between your legs.
-
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated, they help me keep going!
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rose24207 · 1 month ago
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The weigh of words
Summary: After a heated argument fueled by his frustrations on and off the track, Lando's harsh words pushes you away, forcing him to confront his guilt and fight to mend your relationship through heartfelt apologies and unwavering effort.
Genre: angst, fluff
TW: arguments
A/N: hellooo!! How are you doinnnngg?! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Based of this request
Masterlist
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Lately, Lando hadn’t been himself, and you couldn’t blame him. The last three races had been nothing short of disastrous. Whether it was bad strategy calls, mechanical issues, or just sheer bad luck, it felt like the universe was conspiring against him. But it wasn’t just his performance on the track that had been suffering—it was everything else, too.
It started subtly, with him being quieter than usual during dinners or zoning out during conversations. But as the weeks passed, his frustration grew sharper, manifesting in clipped tones, rolled eyes, and muttered curses under his breath. You tried to give him space, but tonight, as he slammed the apartment door shut behind him, you knew you couldn’t keep walking on eggshells.
“Rough day?” you asked gently as he dropped his bag onto the floor with a thud.
Lando ignored you, heading straight for the kitchen. The sound of the fridge door opening and closing filled the silence before he leaned against the counter, chugging water as if it might wash away his irritation.
“Lando,” you tried again, your voice softer now. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” he snapped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“The race,” you said, fighting to keep your tone even. “And everything else. You’ve been...off. I just want to help.”
His laugh was bitter, almost mocking. “Of course you do.”
Your stomach tightened at his tone, but you pushed on. “I’m serious, Lando. You’ve been carrying this around for weeks now. I know things haven’t been easy for you lately, but shutting me out isn’t the answer.”
“Easy for me?” He set the bottle down with a loud clank, his eyes narrowing. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be me right now? To work your ass off and still come up short every single time? To have everyone scrutinize your every move, waiting for you to fail?”
“I’m not them,” you said, stepping closer. “I’m not the media, or the fans, or your team. I’m me.And I’m here for you. But I can’t help if you won’t let me in.”
He scoffed, raking a hand through his curls. “Help? What help? You think talking is going to fix this? God, not everything is about you, you know!”
The words hit you like a physical blow, your breath catching in your throat.
“That’s not what I meant,” you said quietly, your voice trembling.
“And God, you’re so sensitive sometimes,” he added, shaking his head in exasperation. “I can’t do this right now.”
You stood there, stunned, as he stormed past you and into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
For a moment, you stayed rooted in place, replaying his words in your mind. Not everything is about you.
You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you grabbed your coat and keys and left the apartment without a word.
Lando woke up the next morning to an empty bed. The events of the night before came rushing back in vivid detail, and a sinking feeling settled in his chest. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, but there were no messages from you.
He wandered into the living room, hoping to find you there, but the apartment was eerily quiet. The absence of your presence was palpable, and guilt hit him like a freight train.
He hadn’t meant to lash out at you. You weren’t the problem—he was. You’d been nothing but supportive, and he’d thrown it back in your face.
Running a hand through his hair, he sat down on the couch and stared at the floor. He needed to fix this, but he didn’t know how.
By mid-morning, he decided to go out. He walked into the florist, determined to pick something that might make you smile. The woman behind the counter helped him select a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and he even bought a card to go with it.
But when he sat down to write something, he found himself staring at the blank card for several minutes.
"I’m sorry" felt too simple.
"I didn’t mean it" felt too hollow.
He ended up scribbling a few lines, sealing the envelope, and sending the flowers to your workplace.
But flowers weren’t enough. Lando knew that.
That evening, when you didn’t come home, he decided to write you a letter. A real one. He sat at the dining table, pen in hand, and poured his heart out.
Dear [Y/N],
I don’t even know where to start. Last night, I said things I didn’t mean—things that hurt you—and for that, I’m so sorry. You’ve always been my biggest supporter, and I repaid you with anger and cruelty. You didn’t deserve that.
The truth is, I’ve been feeling like a failure lately. Every time I get in that car, I feel like I’m letting everyone down—my team, my fans, myself. And instead of dealing with it the right way, I took it out on you. I blamed you for things that had nothing to do with you, and I hate myself for it.
You are the best thing in my life, and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I know I messed up, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But please know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this right.
I love you. I always have, and I always will.
Lando set the pen down and reread the letter twice before folding it and slipping it into an envelope.
When you finally returned later that night, Lando was sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously. He stood as soon as he heard the door open, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Hi,” he said softly, his voice laced with apprehension.
You didn’t respond immediately.
“I got your flowers,” you said after a moment, your tone guarded.
“And the letter?” he asked, taking a tentative step toward you.
You nodded, setting your bag down. “I read it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I was a complete idiot. I shouldn’t have said those things, and I hate that I hurt you.”
You looked at him for a long moment, your expression unreadable. “Do you really mean it?”
“Every word,” he said, his eyes pleading. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it. Just...don’t give up on me.”
Your resolve softened as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. Slowly, you stepped closer, and his breath hitched as you reached out to take his hand.
“I’m not giving up on you,” you said quietly. “But, Lando, you can’t shut me out like that. We’re supposed to be a team.”
“I know,” he said, gripping your hand tightly. “And I’ll do better. I promise.”
You let out a small sigh, the weight of the day finally lifting as you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace.
“I missed you,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.
“I missed you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And I’m never letting you go again.”
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Chapter 82 of you can really tell the writer got a new art program this week and went apeshit with it instead of doing anything productive: the Mystery Shack is in terrible peril from the government and only one thing can save them:
Teaching Bill Cipher how to flirt with humans!!
####
The Stans explained the plan to Dipper and Mabel as briefly as possible—that Bill had to save them all by flirting with the head fed—and that was about as far as they got before Mabel started squealing. They wished her good luck with Bill, wished him good luck with Mabel, and beat a hasty retreat, with Dipper tagging along after Ford on the pretense of helping figure out how to get the flash drive out of Gompers.
"This is perfect!" Mabel slammed the door closed—and Bill had the sneaking suspicion she'd trapped him on purpose—then grabbed both his hands to drag him further into the room. "I can see it now! He'll fall in love with you, and then he'll realize that living in a small logging town is so much more emotionally fulfilling than his high-pressure fast-paced big city government job, and he'll see what a special, magical place Gravity Falls is and he won't wanna do anything that could change it, and Washington will call him like, 'Your report is late! Have you forgotten your mission?' And he'll go 'I have a new mission now: my WIFE!' And—"
"Hold on!" Bill pulled his hands back. "I think you skipped the part where you married me off to a government agent."
"No I didn't! Because he says that and everyone gasps and then he gets down on his knee in front of you and pulls out a ring and—"
"In your dreams, star girl." He dropped onto Mabel's bed and crossed his legs. "Think a little less cheesy Christmas romcom, and more noir spy movie with a double-crossing femme fatale."
Mabel measured that up against her limited spy movie knowledge, and asked dubiously, "You're gonna drop him in a tank of sharks?"
"Hey, if you have one...!" Bill laughed. "But, no. The plan is just for me to keep him distracted long enough for the nerd squad to get the flash drive, wipe any sensitive data, and leave it somewhere that'll make the agents think the goat dumped it naturally."
Mabel considered that. She inhaled deeply. "Okay," she said. "But. What if it's one of those movies where the evil girl spy has a change of heart because of the good guy's charm and you do fall in love."
"Do you remember who we're talking about?" Bill asked. "Fine! If we fall in love, you can be the ring bearer, best maid, and officiant—but don't start stapling together a white dress just yet."
Mabel completely skipped past his main point. She whispered, "You'd let me make your wedding dress?"
"I'd turn down every fashion designer in Milan, Paris, New York, and London combined."
Her eyes widened. "I've gotta start drawing wedding dresses." She rummaged around the floor for an unused piece of paper and the nearest crayon and/or marker box.
"Draw me as a triangle," Bill said automatically. "So there, you're caught up on the plan!" He slowly slid off Mabel's bed toward the door. "So if you'd let me out so I can prepare..."
"Ohh no. Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford brought you to me to learn how to flirt, and I'm going to teach you how to flirt."
He groaned, but plopped back down on Mabel's bed. "I don't need to be taught how to flirt! I'm a pro! While your universe was still gearing up for a Big Bang, I was fending off marriage proposals from lovelorn generation ships and sentient oceans."
"You're not seducing ships and oceans." Mabel had already flopped onto the floor and drawn a triangle with an eye, and was trying to figure out how to put a dress on it. "You're seducing a man."
"Which is even easier! You people barely last a century, you're desperate! Humans fling themselves at me left and right!"
"Then you'll have no trouble passing my love quiz."
Bill automatically frowned. There was a part of him that still tensed up at the word "quiz" even if he did know more about romance than the entire human race combined. "What, like the one you put the guys through on your dating show?"
"Yes, but with all new questions! So you can't just copy all of Soos's answers to get a perfect score!"
"Psh! Like I need to copy anyone's answers," said Bill, who had never taken a quiz in his life without copying someone else's answers and had been planning to do just that. "All right, hit me."
"Question one! Uh..." She tapped a crayon to her chin as she thought. "What's the best gift to give on a first date? Jewelry, chocolate, a wedding ring, or flowers?"
"Ooh, we're starting with bribery, huh?" When in doubt, the right answer was usually C; but "jewelry" and "wedding ring" seemed kinda redundant. Well—cheating had never failed him before, why stop now? "None of the above! I've got a better answer than all of them!"
Mabel lowered her crayon to give him a skeptical look. "Oh yeah? What?"
"Sneak into their dreams the night before, find out their heart's desire, and surprise 'em with that," Bill said. "That's not even a romantic move. It'll let you win over a human in any context! Birthday parties, baby showers, job interviews, criminal trials, hostage negotiations..."
"What if you don't know their heart's desire?"
"Then you're not me."
She set down her crayon, laced her hands under her chin, and said, "Okay, then. If you were trying to win me over, what's my dream birthday gift?"
"Replacing your bedroom with a bouncy castle with inflatable furniture."
"Ha! No it's n..." She trailed off. "Wait. Ohmigosh."
"Told ya."
"I've been dreaming too small," Mabel whispered. She shoved aside her first drawing and started drawing her fantasy bedroom.
Bill picked up one of Mabel's dolls—a floppy tiger—and started talking to it like he was lecturing it. Forget this whole "taking a quiz" thing; he was much more comfortable in the roll of the teacher than the student. "And if it's a blind date and I can't stalk 'em beforehand, nobody's ever disappointed by a solid gold brick," he told the doll.  "It's both practical and pretty, and it appeals to humans' natural greed without making them feel sleazy about accepting a wad of hundreds from their date."
"What's Agent Powers's heart's desire?"
Heck. He didn't actually know. He'd ducked in on the guy's life a handful of times, but he'd never needed to pay that close attention to him. What did boring people like? "A really nice leather wallet," Bill said.
"Okay, you're off to a strong start," Mabel said. "Question two: what's the ideal location for a first date?"
"What are my options?"
"Fooey to the options! I wanna hear your thoughts."
"Then that's easy: anywhere they can't escape from until they love you," Bill said. "Even better if you can serenade 'em."
Mabel nodded in approval. "Perfect answer, full points! Every Inkwell princess movie and vampire novel on the market agrees! Question three: best first date outfit?"
"Sexy."
"Okay—yeah," Mabel said, "But specifically, what does that look like?"
"Tallest hat you can find," Bill said.
Mabel waited. Bill didn't say anything else. Mabel said, "What about the rest of the outfit?"
"Bow tie. Outfit complete."
"That's just what you wear."
"And it's always sexy!" Bill insisted.
"Maybe in Flatworld, but this is earth! If you go out dressed in nothing but a hat and a bow tie, you'll be having your date in the back of a police car!"
"Fine," Bill huffed. "Fifty pairs of gloves—and the more of them you have hands to fill, the better! A dress made out of blank checks! Two snakes! A fur coat made out of live kittens!" Bill shook the stuffed doll emphatically with each point. "Good enough?!"
Mabel squinted thoughtfully at him. "The kitten coat has potential."
"Damn me with faint praise, why don't you."
"What about more traditional romantic outfits? Like... a red velvet suit with a leopard print shirt? Or short shorts that say 'too hot' on the butt?" Mabel asked. "Or a t-shirt with your date's face on it in a heart! That shows your date 'I'm here to focus on you!'"
"What if my date's face is ugly, did you think about that?" Bill asked, mainly to cover up the fact that he was chagrined he hadn't thought of the velvet suit himself. "Forget about fashion. Next question!"
"Okay, how would you prepare yourself for the perfect date? Aside from finding a tall hat and stalking your date's dreams."
"Hygiene's the most important thing," Bill said. "Humans are very attuned to pheromones. It's one of your base instincts."
A look of relief cross Mabel's face. "Yes! Good start. So we're talking a shower, or...?"
"Oh yeah, if you're going on a date in this country, you've gotta scrub that skin raw. There is no smell Americans hate more than the natural smell of other human beings." 
Mabel nodded enthusiastically. "Right!"
"And once you've gotten rid of your real scent you've got to make sure you smell appealing. And that means making sure you smell the most! Cover up any competing suitors' scents with your own!"
Mabel made an uncertain hum. "Okaaay, sooo... what would you call an appropriate fragrance for a first date?"
He wasn't sure he liked the sound of the hum. "First date? You've got to make a strong impression, and set the mood for romance," he told the doll, so he didn't have to watch Mabel pass judgment. "So, I'm thinking... decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris."
Mabel was silent for an uncomfortably long time. Bill glanced at her. She immediately pulled her sweater up to hide her mouth. Voice strained with suppressed laughter, she said, "You don't think, maybe... floral scents...?"
Who did she think she was laughing at! He directed his attention back to Mabel's doll. The tiger didn't judge him. The tiger thought all his ideas were brilliant. "Is this guy looking for a garden or a girlfriend? I know ninety percent of the soaps and shampoos on the market are designed to make you smell like a fruit salad on the beach, but you humans don't know the first thing about what activates your own monkey-brained reproductive urges! Trust me: decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris! They reek of raw sex appeal!"
"What's ambergris?"
"It's a staple fragrance in the perfume industry! Some of the most popular scents in Hollywood have ambergris base notes!"
"Okay," Mabel said, "but what is it?"
"Okay so," Bill said, "when a sperm whale gets so constipated it kills 'em, the rest of its body rots off while the turd floats to the surface, and after it's bobbed around baking in the sun for a few decades—"
Mabel lay a hand on Bill's knee and gently said, "No." 
"Hey, I'm not the one who invented ambergris, that's your species's idea!"
"Bill, I'm sorry. But you've got the best and worst romance ideas with no in between, and you don't know the difference," Mabel said. "But I promise you're in good hands! I'm the best matchmaker in Gravity Falls! I helped hook up Soos and Melody, Robbie and Tambry, Waddles and Gompers, the Hand Witch and that hunky hiker guy..."
He threw Mabel's doll down on the bed, slumped back against the wall, crossed his arms, and sulked. Then he muttered, "But I've got the best ideas?"
"Oh yeah. You're like an untrained romance prodigy! You just need a liiittle help filtering out the diamonds from the coal."
He grunted. Then he grudgingly admitted, "Getting Waddles and Gompers together is pretty impressive. They have complete opposite political opinions."
"See? I'll have you date ready in no time!"
Bill heaved a frustrated sigh. "Fine. But I'd better at least get a killer makeover out of this."
"Definitely! I'm getting an expert on the case!" She pulled out her phone to send a text. Plus, whatever you're wearing tomorrow? I'm bedazzling the crap out of it."
"Good!"
"But first," Mabel said, "Let's talk about your technique."
####
"Lesson one of Mabel's Guide to Flirting With Humans: pick-up lines! First impressions are super important!"
"Pick-up lines are easy," Bill said. "I know a million of them!"
"That's great! Then this should be easy." Mabel pointed at the picture of Creggy G in the middle of her Sev'ral Timez poster, whom she'd designated as their attractive human for Bill's flirting practice. "Try one out." 
Bill sized up Creggy calculatingly, and said, "You know, your eyeballs are so beautiful."
"Yes!" Mabel cheered. "It's romantic! I love it!"
"—and they'd look even better in my mouth."
Mabel stared at Bill.
"What?" Bill asked. "Too forward? Should I save that for the second date?"
The flirting lesson quickly switched track from teaching Bill how to use a pick-up lines, to teaching Bill what pick-up lines not to use.
And from there, the conversation drifted to a list of subjects Bill wasn't allowed to discuss with the federal agent, which necessitated relocating to the living room so Mabel could set up an easel pad and record all the banned topics. Partway through, Stan drifted in and started throwing in his two cents.
The list of banned flirtation topics included: eyeballs; cannibalism; squid kings; dragonfly mating habits; mandibles; the time and method of living people's future deaths; the cold and lonely heat death of the universe ("Why?! It's a perfect excuse to suggest cuddling for warmth!"); fun get-to-know-you questions like "would you rather kill your mother or your father" or "which conspiracy theories would you most hate to be true"; which conspiracy theories were true; the agent's embarrassing middle school secrets that Bill shouldn't have known about but did; the agent's bald spot; cancer flavors; pending global disasters...
Bill flung his hands in the air. "So what does that leave to talk about?!"
"Anything else," Stan snapped.
"The Chuquicamata open pit copper mine."
"Anything normal."
Bill gave him a look akin to that of a vegetarian who'd just been asked to discuss his favorite cuts of beef. "Have you metme?"
"Try topics that get him in the right mindset for romance," Mabel said. "Like, 'what do you want your future wife's favorite color to be?' Or 'you look like dad material!'"
Bill nodded slowly. "So we're aggressively leading him on. I can work with that. I've never been a fan of subtlety."
"And call him charming," Stan said. "Guys love hearing they're charming. Oh, and tell him his jokes are funny."
"What if he doesn't tell jokes."
"All guys tell jokes when they're flirting! If he's not telling jokes, you're doing something wrong."
"It's true," Mabel said. "Watch any high school romance!" Bill gave them both a dubious look.
Stan glanced up as Ford and Dipper walked by the doorway with Gompers. "Tell 'im, Ford."
"What?"
"All men tell jokes when we're flirting! It's probably in our DNA or something."
Dipper thought about that, and nodded. "I tell jokes when I'm flirting."
Mabel shouted, "You try to tell jokes when you're flirting! Heyooo!"
"Hey."
Ford grimaced. "Usually when I'm flirting, I forget every joke I've ever heard and start asking as many questions as I can think of."
Bill said, "That's because you only flirt with things you want to add to your bestiary!"
"The point still stands." 
Dipper had leaned into the room to read the banned topic list. "Why are conspiracy theories off-limits? He came to Gravity Falls in the first place because he was looking for a paranormal conspiracy."
"Dipper's right," Ford said, "he'd probably be interested in the topic."
Bill flung his hands in the air. "Thank you! That's what I was saying!"
Stan shook his head, "Too close to discussing politics. What if they believe in different conspiracies!"
"Plus, watch this," Mabel said. "Hey Bill, what do you think about Flat Earth theory."
Bill groaned. "I was drunk, those statements were taken out of context, and I can't be held responsible if some idiot with a boat misinterpreted me."
Mabel looked at Ford and Dipper.
Dipper grimaced. "Got it."
Ford nodded. "Conspiracy theories are off-limits."
"This is why you're all single," Bill said.
####
Stan said, "And if you're gonna lie about your job—"
"Which you always should," Bill cut in.
"Obviously! But make sure it's not something too easy to verify. Like, you can't claim to be the governor, what if your date actually voted and knows who the governor is?"
"That's a good point! Margaret was not impressed."
"You're telling me! My suit smelled like broccoli cheese soup for weeks!"
"You shoulda suggested she get the house salad."
"Yeah, I—" Stan cut off. "Wait. How do you know about Margaret? That was twenty years ago!"
Dipper and Ford were in the kitchen, looking for every ingredient they could find that might coax Gompers to release the flash drive the old-fashioned way and listening to the discussion in the living room. Gompers nibbled at a dish towel, oblivious to the fate awaiting him.
Mabel trotted in and patted him as she passed. "Hey, you! You're giving us major trouble, you rascal!"
He bleated at her.
Mabel pushed up to the open fridge next to Dipper, and when he stepped aside to make more room for her, she stepped into his personal space again and leaned into him with her shoulder. "Why are you in the way, bro, jeez!"
"You're in the way!" He leaned against her in turn. "What are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be training Bill?"
"Grunkle Stan's taking the lead right now," Mabel said. "My talent is helping people find true love! But his talent is suckering someone into liking you for a day. So I think he's better suited to the task at hand."
"Oh, yeah." Dipper chuckled wryly. "His advice will get you a first date, but not a second date."
Ford muttered, "His technique hasn't changed since high school, I see."
Dipper found the bottle of prune juice he'd been looking for, pulled it out, and stepped back. Mabel yelped when her counterweight disappeared and stumbled sideways into the fridge door.
As Dipper emptied the juice into a mixing bowl, he said, "I'm not sure about this plan. Even with both you and Stan helping. I know Bill's good at tricking people, but... he's so annoying. And not in a lovable way."
"Don't undersell him!" Mabel said. She'd retrieved a pitcher of Mabel Juice and was dumping a full bottle of sprinkles into it—hardcore romance training required high stamina. "He has the potential to be a dreamboat!"
Ford muttered, "He's a manipulative, murderous monster." He was searching through all the cans they'd moved to the kitchen counter for beans.
"Those don't have to be mutually exclusive," Mabel insisted. "Serial killers get girlfriends. Sometimes after they're arrested!"
"I'mmm not seeing a dreamboat," Dipper said. "More like a shipwreck. I mean, when you were trying to come up with a list of romantic date foods, he suggested blood licked off your date's teeth."
"And he was right!" Mabel said. "Vampires, bro-bro!"
"Okay, but I don't think he was talking about teeth that were still attached to his date's skull!"
"He didn't say they weren't attached," said Mabel, with flagging conviction that suggested she hadn't considered that and was realizing Dipper was probably right.
"And five minutes ago you and Stan told him he should pretend to be a princess, and he told you he'd be great at that because he started an Internet dating service that matches up lonely widows with overseas con artists pretending to be deposed princes."
"Well," Mabel said sheepishly.
"And then he tried to talk you two into investing in a pyramid scheme to fund his dating service."
"But we didn't invest!" Mabel said.
"Only because you looked it up on your phone and discovered he'd made it up!"
"I mean, until then, it sounded romantic!" Mabel flung her hands out in a wide shrug. (Something about the gesture looked strange to Ford.) "Finding a second chance at love with a mysterious foreign criminal with a glamorous false identity? That'd be great if it was real!"
"Mabel, it's a scam," Dipper said exasperatedly.
"And do scam artists not deserve love, too?!" Mabel pounded a fist on the table emphatically. "What about Grunkle Stan! He deserves love! A rich overseas widow would be perfect for him!"
"That's not— The point is, Bill's not romantic!" Dipper said. "This plan isn't going to work!"
Ford set half a dozen bean cans next to Dipper's mixing bowl. "He doesn't need to be romantic," he said. "He only needs to be charismatic. And for all his flaws, he's certainly that." Planets will orbit stars and black holes just the same—and not even realize the difference. "He doesn't have to actually win Agent Powers's heart. He only has to keep his attention for a few hours. By the time Bill stops dazzling Powers long enough for him to see the red flags, we'll have the flash drive." He nodded toward Gompers. "If we get it before the agents return with a warrant, we might not even need Bill to distract him."
Dipper sighed. "Then let's hope Gompers likes prunes."
"Come on! Show a little faith!" Mabel said.
Ford muttered, "The last time I put my faith in Bill..." Dipper gestured emphatically at Ford in agreement.
"Not in Bill! In me! Mark my words, Grunkle Ford—I'll get this Cinderella ready to meet his Prince Charming if I have to summon every mouse in Gravity Falls to help sew his ballgown!"
"Please don't summon the wildlife again," Dipper groaned. "The last time you did that, huge spiders kept appearing in our room for a week."
Mabel's pocket vibrated; she pulled out her phone and gasped. She chugged down the rest of her juice in three sickly sweet gulps and bolted from the room. "Biiill! Your personal style consultant texted back!"
"My who?"
She dragged him out of the living room by the wrist. "Come on!"
Ford watched them run up the stairs, then started searching through their cereal boxes for the high fiber one. Tentatively, he asked, "Mabel doesn't actually think we're trying to get Bill and the agent together, does she?" The Prince Charming comment was concerning.
"I don't know," Dipper sighed. "A few days ago she started talking about trying to get Bill a love life? Maybe she sees this as a practice round."
"Really? Why, did he say he wants to date people?" If he wanted to get out of the shack to emotionally prey on the locals one-on-one without supervision...
"I don't think she's even told him yet. It's part of her project to... reintegrate him into society? She probably thinks the power of love can rehabilitate him." Dipper sighed. "She's setting herself up for disappointment. He's been conning people into thinking he's a good guy for billions of years, right? If being loved could fix him, he'd be an angel by now."
"Instead, he's just gotten better at pretending to be an angel," Ford said ruefully. "I'm inclined to agree with you." He found the cereal he'd been looking for and set it on the table by Dipper. "But then... we let him live, didn't we? Because we all hope we're wrong. I suppose that doesn't make us that different from Mabel."
Dipper shook his head emphatically. "Not me." He dumped one of the cans of beans into the prune juice a little harder than necessary. "I let him live for two reasons: because of Mabel, and because of that prophecy. And he doesn't have to change to fulfill some prophecy to save us—when it comes, he might just be trying to save his own stupid butt, too."
"I suppose so." Right—of course, even if he'd agreed to spare Bill, Dipper still didn't have any real hope for him beyond his usefulness.
Over the past month, Ford hadn't seen anything more sympathetic out of Bill than Dipper had. He wondered at himself for even being willing to consider Bill might change. When had Ford changed enough to consider it? Or was he just more susceptible to Bill's same old tricks?
"You don't remember the whole prophecy yet, do you?" Ford asked. "What if this is what it was about? Saving our family from the government because he's the only person the lead agent finds attractive enough to distract him?"
Dipper pulled a face. "I hope not," he said. "After everything he put us through? He owes us a fight to the death with an interdimensional eldritch god."
"Now that's a sight I'd pay to see."
####
MABEL: Heyyy Paz, can I ask for a small favor. I have a friend that needs a MAJOR MAKEOVER!! 😿 Like the FULL PRINCESS TRANSFORMATION treatment!! Can you help him?
PACIFICA: Can't, I'm suuuper busy today. I have the lunch shift AND grooming day at the ranch.
PACIFICA: Plus, why would I help some total rando? 😒
MABEL: Because it's my friend with the beautiful golden hair.
PACIFICA: asldkfggh
PACIFICA: OK fine come by the ranch after work
PACIFICA: and send me a picture of his skin next to a white paper so I can grab some foundations to try out.
####
Bill took a piece of paper and a marker, wrote "Make me beautiful!" and dotted the I and the exclamation point with hearts, flopped the least sunburned part of his arm next to the paper for Mabel to take a picture, and leaned away to keep his face out of it.
As Mabel snapped a couple pictures, she said, "Okay, before we visit Pacifica, I have to warn you. She can be a liiittle bit mean when it comes to fashion. So don't get mad at her, okay? It's how she shows she cares!"
"No it's not," Bill said.
"No, it's not," Mabel conceded. "But it doesn't mean she doesn't care. That's just... how she relates to other people! By insulting their fashion, style, and body. And family. And finances."
"Don't worry, star girl. I can take it."
"But I mean, she might be really, really, super mean about your looks," Mabel said. "And you cannot curse her or threaten to turn her bones into flutes or do anything Bill-ish like that. Promise me."
"Hey, bone flutes! That sounds like a fun arts and crafts project, right?"
"Bill!"
"Re-lax, it'll be fine," Bill said. "She's just your garden-variety pageant girl with an overly-critical mom who tried to relive her glory years through her daughter! I can handle a teenage ex-beauty queen. I'm an expert on those types."
Skeptically, Mabel said, "Really?" She was slowly coming to realize that, in Bill's opinion, he was the expert on everything.
"Oh yeah. I spent years eyelid deep in the pageant scene."
"You did?" she said, surprised. "How come? Did you try to trick a beauty pageant into building your portal or something like that?"
Bill stared at Mabel.
####
Outside the flat hospital, it was a beautiful, peaceful morning. The air was clear, the unseen sun was shining brightly from some unknown dimension, and some 2D equivalent to a bird was chirping in some 2D equivalent to a tree.
And then the hospital doors crashed open with such force that passing shapes momentarily suspected that someone had set off a bomb.
"—don't give me that look, if you'd hustled your hypotenuse and had your birthday yesterday, we wouldn't be in such a rush! You're just lucky you came out so cute, or—" An exhausted, dull pinkish triangle charged out the doors with a very tiny, squishy yellow triangle in her trembling arm. She turned to shout behind her—"Hurry up! There's only two hours until the Best Baby Pageant and he is not going to miss it!"
—and was followed closely by a horrified blue triangle carrying a hat in one hand and a cane in the other. "But Scalene, the doctors still have to do those tests to check for—"
"They can test him later! If he's got some horrible birth defect, he'll still have it after he's won a trophy!" Without slowing, Scalene turned and held the baby out toward the other triangle. The squishy new shape gawked at him in mild befuddlement. "Look at this kid, Euclid! Most newborn brats look like cranky raisins, but he's less than an hour old and he's already bright-eyed and smooth-sided! He was born with the face of a pageant winner—"
Not looking where she was going, she ran into a tree. The bird flew off in a panic, Scalene lost her balance, and she nearly dropped the baby. Euclid caught him, caught her, and held her steady while she leaned dizzily against the tree. "Lene. You should be on bedrest right now. Maybe we should just, you know, take a moment to process..."
"Process what! We have our little angle. Am I supposed to sit in a hospital bed staring at the afterbirth?!"
While Euclid stared at her in shock, she snatched the child back, pushed him away, and wobbled back upright. "What kind of a lazy mother would I be if I was sleeping instead of making my child a winner! You want him to start off life on the right foot, don't you?"
Defeated, Euclid said, "All right. I'll take care of the... the paperwork. At least bring your cane."
"I don't need it. I'm fine."
"Fine?! You just..." He gestured at her, gestured at the brand-spanking-new baby, gestured at her again, then flung his hands up in defeat. "If you drop our baby, I'm divorcing you."
She sighed huffily. "You're so dramatic." But she snatched the cane out of his hand anyway and stormed away, declaring loudly enough that shapes on the other side of the street turned to stare: "If the mayor doesn't declare my Billy the greatest baby in the whole godforsaken world, I'm grabbing the biggest trophy in the room and bashing his eye in!"
####
Bill shrugged at Mabel. "Sure," he said. "Something like that."
####
Gompers stared down at the bowl set on the floor in front of him.
It contained black beans, broccoli, coffee grounds, fiber-enriched whole-grain cereal, oatmeal, and an avocado and half a sweet potato mashed together into an orange-green mush, all stewing in a prune juice soup.
Gompers looked up.
Dipper and Ford were crouched across from him, watching expectantly. 
Gompers bleated balefully at them.
"Go on!" Ford nudged the bowl closer. "It's good for you."
Gompers knew a lie when he heard one. He turned his nose up at the mix.
"I don't get it," Dipper said. "He eats everything. What's wrong with this stuff?"
"I haven't a clue."
"Maybe it's the broccoli?" 
Ford gave him a quizzical look. "Why broccoli?"
Dipper shrugged. "I don't like broccoli, I don't know why he would."
"Hmm." Mystified, Ford propped his chin in his hand and stared into Gompers's eyes. Gompers stared back. Gompers stared into his soul. Gompers didn't blink.
Ford was dragged from this session of nonconsensual soul-searching by the sound of footsteps and Mabel's voice drifting down the stairs: "Listen, you know I love your sense of fashion! All I'm saying is everyone loves kittens, but snakes? That's a pretty niche fashion market! You're not gonna get a lot of takers."
"No, hey, hear me out," Bill said. "I listened to your professional matchmaker advice, now you've got to listen to my professional heartbreaker advice. You'll thank me for this one day! This is my number one romance tip: if you wanna impress a date, strap cobras to your arms and call yourself 'Johnny Cobra-Arms.' It works every time. Guaranteed."
(Dipper snorted.)
"Whaaat? No way," Mabel said. "Seriously, what?"
"It's true! I workshopped this! I've experimented across parallel timelines! It works."
"Quit messing with me, Bill."
"You think I would ever mislead you? No. Picture this." As the pair turned the corner on the stairs, Bill was spreading his hands in front of himself as though gesturing to the scene he wanted Mabel to imagine. "You see a guy, maybe a year older than you, kinda cute but nothing to write home about, maybe a 6/10. Got him in your mind's eye?"
A look of intense concentration crossed Mabel's face as she engaged her Imagination. "Yeah?"
"Okay, now imagine he—" Bill reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. "Where are my shoes." He raised his voice, "Who moved my fisshoes! I left them right— oh, there they are." He disappeared into the living room. "Imagine your 6/10 has two big snakes wrapped around his arms. And he catches your eye from across the club, comes up to you, and says..." Bill's voice dropped to a pitch that was nearly in the range of an average adult human male, "'Hey. Name's Johnny Cobra-Arms. What's yours?'"
Mabel thought about it. Her eyes slowly widened in amazement. "Oh my god, it would totally work on me."
Bill re-emerged into the entryway, fish shoes donned. "See?" 
"It made him hot! What the heck, how did that happen!"
"See?! It works every time!" He shouted toward the kitchen, "Hey, we're leaving for Alpaca's! I'm taking the car!"
"No you're not," Ford said.
Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Worth a shot!" He grabbed his umbrella and the magic friendship bracelets from the coat rack and waited for Mabel to open the door. "See, it's the best possible first impression. It shows he's got a sense of humor, he's quirky, he's a little bit dangerous, he's got a great sense of fashion, he's a world traveler, he's good with animals..." The door swung shut behind them. 
The way Bill had shrugged stuck in Ford's mind. 
In his true form, Bill didn't have shoulders. His arms extended out of his sides like the trunks of saplings extending from the surface of flood waters, and they glided around his perimeter in a way that defied conventional physical biology. No joints. 
When he shrugged in his human body, sometimes he'd bob his shoulders up and down in a deliberate mimicry of how humans performed the gesture; and lately, as Bill got used to moving his new body, Ford had seen him sluggishly raise a shoulder when he was too exhausted to gesture more expressively. But most of the time, he shrugged like he still didn't have shoulders. He'd spread his arms, bend his elbows, usually forming a W shape but sometimes when he was particularly emphatic forming a shape like football goalposts, and if he really wanted to make his meaning clear he'd twitch his upturned palms up the way a human would twitch their shoulders.
He did it all the time. He'd done it just now. The gesture was so natural on Bill that Ford had never realized how unnaturalit was on a human—until he'd seen Mabel make the exact same gesture earlier.
She was copying Bill's body language. He wondered if she knew.
He'd have to keep an eye on that.
"Hope Agent Powers is into snakes," Dipper muttered.
Ford laughed—then wondered whether someone pulling the Johnny Cobra-Arms trick would've worked on him. If by now nothing had made him take an interest in a basic, garden-variety human being, he doubted anything could... but, admittedly, he'd at least consider hanging out with Johnny. He sounded like an intriguing character. "If that's the worst thing Bill subjects him to, he'll be getting off light."
With a twinge of guilt, Ford realized just how true that was. Ford was no stranger to having to turn down the volume on his conscience for the greater good—and there were few greater goods than protecting his family—but...
He might not know Powers, but he did know that, whether Bill succeeded in seducing him or not, the man didn't deserve what he was about to be subjected to.
####
(Now that this chapter's finally out, may there be no further delays for a good long while, ugh.
Here's your "what was changed in the wake of TBOB" update: obviously, since we got five whole pages on Bill's beliefs about romance, a lot of that got incorporated into this chapter—the first and last scenes were basically written entirely in response to TBOB.
The scene with Scalene & Euclid, obviously, got their names & descriptions from TBOB & TINAWDC (and yeah, yeah, i'm eventually gonna go back to earlier chapters and edit out Bill's mom being a line so it matches up with canon), and it's obvious what the "best baby pageant" is a reference to (so you can guess whether Bill won)—but Bill being a pageant kid due to his mom was already part of the plans long before TBOB, so I just stuck a couple canon details into the story I was already writing. We were already gonna get into Bill's childhood this chapter & next (as you'll see next week).
Beyond that, most of the chapter was already in its present form before TBOB—up to & including Bill having a list of topics he thinks are acceptable for dates that no rational human would agree with—and all TBOB added was a couple tiny details (like... "mandibles".)
The fact that the list of things that were influenced by TBOB is so much longer than usual is part of the reason this chapter's two whole weeks late lmao.
Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed, happy new year, and I'm looking forward to (finally) hearing your thoughts on the first fresh chapter of 2025!
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starflirts · 6 months ago
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HOW MUCH IS WEED with percy and the prompt “i couldn’t stop missing you even if i tried” <33 requesting for a bit angst hurt/comfort with a happy ending..congrats on a 100!!
here you go anon!! <3
percy jackson x reader
You didn’t think it’d go this far. A simple disagreement about something mundane led to an almost screaming match as you stood in front of your boyfriend, arms crossed.
“No, this isn’t how it works Percy and you know it !”
he scoffs. “Yeah right, because you know me so well don’t you ?”
It takes you a couple of seconds to retaliate. Without another word, you pick up your bag and your coat laying on the back of Percy’s couch.
“I’m out. I don’t want to deal with this anymore.”
As you storm through his hallway, your boyfriend is still in his living room, rubbing his temples. “go ahead!” he bites
With your hand on the knob, you turn back one last time.
“Don’t call me for a while. I think we need some space.”
Still blinded by his own anger, Percy snaps. “Fine by me!”
The last thing he hears is the slam of his front door. Falling back on the couch, Percy holds his head into his hands, his harsh words running through his mind.
You’re no better, angrily wiping tears as you head home.
You kept your word and stubbornly avoided any contact with Percy, yet a small part of you still looked for him in your notifications.
After a couple weeks without seeing the two of you hanging out, your friends started to plan something to get the two of you in the same room again. “You used to be practically joined at the hip! This can’t go on!” was what they all said.
And unbeknownst to you, they did plan to get the two of you together again. You were all supposed to meet up at the cafe on the corner of your street but no one was there when you arrived. Guessing they were late, you pulled out your phone when you suddenly heard a voice you haven’t heard in what felt like ages.
“Sorry I’m la- Y/N ?” snapping your head up, you’re face to face with a disheveled Percy, cheeks red from the probable run from his block to yours.
“Hi. I don’t think the others are coming.” you tell him blankly, already gathering your stuff to leave.
“Wait!” Percy starts as he sits in the chair across from you, laying a hand on your wrist. “Can we… talk ?” his eyes are almost pleading and you nod.
“Listen, I- I can't stop thinking about our argument, and about us. I messed up. I know you said you didn’t want me to call you so I didn’t but it was so hard trying not to look through all my notifications thinking about you.”
You smile at that, glad he felt the same way you did. Shaking your head, your hand reaches for his.
“It’s okay. I’m at fault here too. I shouldn’t have stormed off like that. I should’ve talked it out,” you pause “we both should’ve talked it out.”
“This won’t happen again.” he answers earnestly.
You laugh, “I hope so! It was so hard trying not to miss you.”
His hand squeezes yours. “I couldn’t stop missing you even if I tried.”
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