#if youre still here what are you doing here. go. shoo.

[justdontaskme]

Home Sick (Leah Williamson x Reader)

A/N: It's been so long! I'm trying to get back into things but don't be surprised if I dip again, unfortunately. I want to go back and finish some of my WIPs but needed to get something out. Let me know what you think!

Normally, a day off from practice was a godsend, and you’d spend most of the day tangled in bed with your girlfriend. The day would be filled with laziness as you both enjoyed the simplicity and stillness the rare day of no obligations could hold. 

Yet, today, at this very moment, you felt as if you were at your wit’s end. And said girlfriend was the source of much of the current frustration. 

You’ve been slaving away in the kitchen since you woke up this morning, preparing to feed your whole team as they were scheduled to arrive later today. If you were being honest, there was a part of you that was beginning to regret even deciding to host, but it was too late now. 

Ordinary team hangouts were usually chill, with all the girls coming over for drinks and a movie or game night. Today though, you had planned an early Friendsgiving dinner. Well, it was actually Emily’s idea after she heard you were feeling extra homesick this year. 

Your fellow American picked up on your sour mood lately, and she hounded you until you admitted that you had seen a bunch of videos about people already planning out Thanksgiving menus. In fact, your family group chat had been going off with your parents asking for a head count for the special dinner and any dish requests. 

Since neither you nor Emily were going to make it home for the holiday, it only made sense for you two to celebrate this holiday with your new team. It didn’t matter that they didn’t quite understand the hype of this specific holiday here on the other side of the pond, they were more than happy to learn and eat. 

When word got to Leah, she was onboard instantly, wanting to do whatever she could to help alleviate any feeling of you missing home. While you loved and appreciated your girlfriend for wanting to help, right now you really just needed her to get out of your way. 

“Leah! Get out of the kitchen!” you said, shooing your girlfriend away before she could knock something else over. You grabbed another dish towel and started wiping up the sauce the blonde managed to get all over the counter. 

“I’m just trying to help,” she said, standing right behind you with a bunch of paper towels in hand, causing you to run straight into her when you turned around. 

After throwing the dirty towel into the sink to rinse later, you grabbed Leah’s shoulders so you could face her directly, “I know, babe, but right now you are literally stressing me out more than you are helping me.”

The blonde pouted, visibly deflating, her voice mumbled, “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

Your face softened at her words. Leah really was just trying to help, but with a million different things going on in the kitchen at once she was more a hazard than anything else. A hand went up, cupping her cheek.

“I know you want to help, but cooking has never been your strong suit,” you said, your voice light to let her know you were teasing. “How about you help instead by sitting right here,” you patted the kitchen counter that was currently free of anything, “and keep me company?”

“I could do that,” she smiled, stepping away from you just enough that she could hop up and place herself in the open space you had previously cleared for her. 

Once she was settled, you took a step forward, standing between her legs, “You’ll be the best helper from right here.”

She dipped her head down, stealing a quick kiss from your lips. “Anything else you need from me?”

“I just need you to sit there and tell me I look pretty,” you told her, your arms slipping around her as you hid your face in her neck. 

“Oooo, complimenting my beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend. My speciality,” she grinned, her hands running up and down your back soothingly. 

As Leah sat there, with her cheek resting against the top of your head, she whispered all the sweet nothings you wanted to hear into your ear. It helped calm your racing mind as you started to refocus on the task at hand. 

Reluctantly, you stepped out of Leah’s embrace, one hand sitting on her thigh as you turned and took in the kitchen, mentally planning out what dish needed attention next. You left Leah to attend to your dishes, asking Leah to taste things here and there. In your mind, since she was the pickiest eater on the team, if it passed Leah’s taste tests, then it would be good enough for the others. 

If anyone asked, you would deny it, but you literally almost cried in relief when Alessia and Emily showed up almost two hours later. Your friends being the extra sets of hands you desperately needed in the kitchen. With their help, things started moving much more smoothly. 

As the day went on, your teammates slowly started to filter in with drinks, other homemade dishes, or desserts in hand. Now that you had helpers, Leah was free to play hostess, checking in on everyone and making sure you were supplied with drinks that Katie was kind enough to mix for everyone. A few of your teammates offered their help, but with the kitchen being as small as it was, you, Emily, and Alessia were better off handling the food. 

Steadily, the house filled with smells of all the different food as things were almost done. The space in your apartment was becoming almost nonexistent, but it was obvious your teammates were enjoying themselves if their laughs and screams were anything to go by. Despite what some would consider chaos, this is exactly what you needed. 

As the last few dishes were either finishing up or were being reheated, you three finally took a nice break to catch up on drinks and gossip. 

Alessia was telling a story about something Tooney had gotten herself into back in the day when you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist from behind.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

You turned your head to find Leah flashing you a bright grin. Her smile was one of the reasons you were enjoying yourself so much despite all the crazy and hard work from prepping and cooking over the past few days. 

“Everything is perfect,” you told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, squeezing you a little tighter. She held you in her arms, joining in on your conversation with Emily and Alessia, only disappearing once to refill your drink for you. 

When the timer went off from the oven, you felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Your friends chuckled as they watched you slip out of your girlfriend’s arms and back to the oven.

With a huge sigh of relief, you slipped on the oven mitts and went to grab the star of the night. While having a turkey was a staple for the holiday, you decided to forgo it to keep your sanity for the day. 

Instead, you decided to try your hand at something new that you felt would garner much more appreciation. After triple checking that everything was cooked and ready, you gave Leah a nod to get everyone ready to eat. 

“Dinner is ready!” she called, watching as a few of the young ones and Katie started playfully shoving each other in their haste to get first in line for food. You watched as everyone lined up buffet style and served themselves before looking for a space to eat, either at the table, on the couch, or up against the wall.

After everyone else was served, you grabbed a plate and started making a plate for your girlfriend as she went to reprimand the young ones for making a mess on the coffee table.

“This is so good, Y/N! Can you cook for us all the time?” Beth said around a mouthful of food. 

You rolled your eyes, “I already do, Beth,” you reminded her, thinking of all the days Beth would show up unannounced, looking for food and company since Viv moved to Manchester. 

“True, but you don’t make all this,” she countered, stealing a piece of bread off of Steph’s plate when the Australian was dealing with Kyra trying to overload her plate with food. 

“Thanksgiving special, so enjoy this while you can because I will not be cooking like this for some time,” you said, handing Leah her plate of food, when she came back. 

“Aren’t you eating?” she asked after thanking you, taking a seat so you could then sit in her lap. It was a little harder for her to eat this way, but she really just wanted you close. She felt like she barely saw you today as soon as people started showing up. 

“Maybe later, I just need a sec,” you told her, urging her to eat while the food was still hot. Honestly, you had quite a fill from taste testing and right now you were content to sit back and watch everyone enjoy themselves as long as you had a drink in hand.

“I’m a bit surprised there weren’t Smileys on the menu, with Leah living here and all,” Alessia said, digging into her food. 

You chuckled, seeing Leah’s mouth fall upon at the open attack, “We’re working on expanding her horizons on her food.”

Your girlfriend turned to you, her face full of betrayal, “I eat more than just Smileys!”

“Oh, I know, babe. Why do you think I made a ham instead of a turkey? Now you’ll be set with a ham sandwich for like the next week,” you said, grabbing a napkin to wipe the bit of food that spilled from the side of her mouth.

“Lucky! Now you don’t have to cook. Not that you really did much of that before.”

“I can cook!” Leah nearly shouted, sitting back from her food, glaring at her teammates.

“No, Leah. You can heat things up. There’s a big difference,” Lia said, jumping on the train to tease her best friend.

“I would take more offense to that, but you lot are just jealous that I have a girlfriend who is not only insanely pretty but loves to cook for me,” Leah said, sitting up proudly and sending you a quick wink.

“I mean she’s not my girlfriend, but she does keep me fed pretty regularly,” Beth reminded her. 

“And for that comment, Beth, you are not allowed to take any leftovers home with you,” Leah asserted, a satisfactory smirk in place when her friend immediately tried to backtrack all statements.

“Are we going to go around the table and say what we’re grateful for like they do in movies?” Kyra asked, switching topics before Leah and Beth’s banter could continue. 

You waved your hand, dismissing the idea while you took a rather large swig of your drink. The alcohol started to kick in and relax you more now that all of your responsibilities for the day were now over, “No, not really. I don’t know about you, Foxy, but we never really did that at my house. It sounds sweet in practice, but it was pretty awkward the one year we tried it. You are more than welcome to share if you want, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“I, for one, have something to say,” Leah stated, chasing her last bite with a bit of water before she cleared her throat. “It may sound corny and everything, but I want to say I’m thankful for having all of you in my life, especially this one right next to me. After doing my ACL, having you lot support me through it all and being able to share things like this is a dream.”

“Stop being so emotional, you’re going to make me cry,” Katie shouted, pretending to fan away imaginary tears in her eyes.

“Okay, okay, one more thing. Last one to clean up after themself is on dish duty!” Leah exclaimed, taking the last bite from her plate before rushing to put the dish in the sink.

From there it was a mad rush to the sink, as a few snuck around, packing some food to go home with them as the chaos reigned around them. 

You continued to watch everything unfold with rapt interest, refilling your glass and cheersing with Foxy who was following your lead. With these people you considered a second family, you truly felt a sense of home, healing that little patch of homesickness you had been feeling lately. 

[peachdues]

y’all wanted pouty baby Sanemi?

Here you go.

The moment your eyes land on him, your face hardens.

“No,” you flap your hands at him, shooing him back out of the storeroom. “Get out, go somewhere else, I’ll deal with you later —“

“Deal with me?” Sanemi repeats, affronted, reaching again for your books. “I came back here to see if you needed help — and hi to you too, by the way-“

You twist out of his reach. “Get out of here and stop being a distraction!”

Sanemi’s eyebrows knit together. “How the fuck is me offerin’ to help a distraction —?”

Groaning, you slam your stack of books back on the steel shelf. “Because you are!”

“Excuse the fuck outta me for tryin’ to dote on my girl after not seein’ her for a goddamn week —“

“I don’t have time for your tantrum,” you flip your hair over your shoulder and cock a hip out, glaring at him. “Go entertain yourself until this —“ you gesture loosely behind you at throng of people crowding around the check out counter. “Is taken care of.”

Sanemi folds his arms across his chest, mimicking your stance. “And do what, exactly?”

“I don’t care!” You hiss. “Just keep out of the way!”

He stares at you for a moment longer, and if you weren’t so up to your ears in retail bullshit, you’d almost think he looked cute. There’s an adorable scrunch in his nose matched only by his very obvious pout.

Sanemi clicks his tongue. “Fine,” he says petulantly. “I’ll just fuck off somewhere else ‘til you decide to remember me —“

“Good! Thank you!”

You don’t spare him another moment, not as you snatch up the books once more and make a beeline for the crush of customers. Once, your cool dismissiveness had been a turn-on; a baited hook he couldn’t help latching onto. He’s still a little turned on by the sharp way you’d spoken to him — he can’t help but be a slave to someone capable of bossing him around — but he’s also a little bruised.

Near the back corner of the store, tucked between the shelves for biographies and self-help manuals is a small reading area. A plush corner of seat cushions and lumpy beanbags, a tiny plastic table sandwiched between them. Cozy, but not so comfortable as to encourage loitering — as per the owner’s desires.

It’s in one of these beanbags where Sanemi plops his grumpy ass, arms still folded stubbornly across his chest while he sulks. The reading area is within perfect view of the clerk’s counter, though that was more to allow you to keep an eye on any customers who might try and take advantage of the store’s hospitality.

Instead, it gives Sanemi a direct line to glare at your stupidly perfect back.

smh go get a real job

[seeker-ophelia]

Hallelujah

(There are no Veilguard spoilers in this content, it was all created in early September, I’m only posting it now).

So I found this old Bioware article from 2014…

Its about what the writers listened to when they wrote their characters.

I was immediately struck by Weekes’ (writer of Bull, Cole, & Solas) comment that he wrote whole swaths of Solas dialogue listening to K.D. Langs cover of Hallelujah.

Because when I was playing Origins, way back in 2009, as soon as I heard the words “The Chant of Andraste” I thought of Hallelujah.

No better parallel could exist for me. Hallelujah, if you listen to the lyrics, is not really church related, yet it got absorbed into the church as a hymn. Its fucking sad, and yet we’re praising god or some shit?

Kinda like how I feel The Chantry has changed their religion, their original purpose, Andraste and the Maker and all that, into something horrible (subjugation/lobotomization of mages, feeding templars crack, you know, nOrMal StUfF).

I love the parallels there. And I love that Weekes used this sad-ass fucking dirge for our sad-ass fucking egg, especially considering what KD Lang said about it:

Canadian singer k.d. lang said in an interview shortly after Cohen's death that she considered the song to be about "the struggle between having human desire and searching for spiritual wisdom. It's being caught between those two places."       (Be still, my heart.)

And I thought about how Legends Shouldn’t Be Given The Weight of History, and how The Chantry’s purpose has been twisted, and how Hallelujah’s purpose has been twisted, and at the time, I was completing The Temple of the Emerald Knights in DA:I. I was thinking about how the Elvhen temple is littered with statues of Andraste and Mythal (dragon), how there’s a Knight, Andale (which is so obviously Andraste, prob Flemythal reincarnate of some sort).

The blending and melding and mushing of cultures and religions as time drags on, how originally good or pure purposes are changed or shifted, or corrupted.

And I thought of Andraste again.

I have been unhealthily obsessed with this artist named Aly, who is a Bard in Thedas and sings at The Dread Halla Tavern (you can find them on spotify here);  

(for clarification, this human is not me, I am not a singer, she is very good, you should go listen to all her songs-after you read this).

Anyways, I got to thinking…

What would Andraste’s Hallelujah sound like?

I had to write it.

Its sad and beautiful and tells the story of a woman flighting against forces she has no hope of defeating (But we still have to try).

[Andraste’s Lament]

And I got immediately transported to a smoky, dimly lit tavern in Southern Thedas. Aly has just sung Andraste’s Lament, and is approached by Neria, a lone Dalish Elf who clutches a scrap of paper tightly in her hand.

Aly listens to this elf tell her a story of a sad song her mother used to sing her when she was young, before she got killed by bandits. And could she sing this song for her, please, she even has a few coppers.

And Aly sits down, scans the paper, and realizes it’s a different version of Andraste’s Hallelujah.

Written in small looping script at the top, in Common, is Dirge of the Dread Wolf.

And she sings it softly to Neria, a strange story of mothers and gods and tricksters and wolves, and Neria’s eyes well.

[Dirge of the Dread Wolf]

She ends the song, the last beautiful Hallelujah trembling through the thickness of the tavern air.

Neria sniffs once, and then begins a new story. Aly listens to this Elf speak of a crumbling Dalish temple deep in the middle of nowhere, where she found a piece of paper beside a four legged statue that has since eroded to expressionless guardianship, of words crossed out and changed and smudged.

Then she shakily hands Aly a different piece of paper.

This velumm is significantly older than the first, thicker, almost crumbling around the edges.

And its Hallelujah again, but its spelled wrong, and some strange name with too many n’s in it is written at the top.

And Neria asks Aly if she can sing this.

But it’s written in Elvhen, and Aly shakes her head, she doesn’t think she can stumble through all the strange Dalish a’s and ash’s and am’s (there's so many damn vowels in Dalish…).

But, Aly halts the elfs falling face, she is more than willing to sing this in Common, if Neria will stay to act as translator.

So the two bend their heads close over the bar, and Aly pulls out her small precious notebook where she writes down the lyrics to her own tunes, and they quickly make work of the Elvhen words, Aly humming and hawing as she changes some words to better match the pattern of the song.

And soon they have a brand-new Hallelujah, and Aly asks Neria to pronounce the name at the top.

Ghil-an’nain, Neria says, and make sure you spell the hallelujah right.

H, a, l, l, a, l, i, e, u, y, a.

What does that mean in Dalish? Aly asks the elf.

And Neria shrugs. Halla is like a halla, she assumes. But this word lieu, she doesn’t know.

Aly assumes in the context of this song it must mean birth, but Neria shakes her head. Shena is the verb for born.

Well, what about victory? But Neria shakes her head again. Ena’sal’in is the word for victory, or triumph.

Aly blows out a breath. She’s a lyricist. What would make this poetic.

What about truth?

The elf thinks, and a small smile grows on her lips.

She can’t think of a Dalish word for truth.

Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla?

Aly’s beautiful soprano soon fills the room, and her eyes widen when a soft Alto joins her, singing along in the original Elvhen.

[Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla]   

A haunting melody, completely changed by the understanding of the root of halla lieu’ya, not a praise to The Maker, or the curse of a trickster, but the story of a young god, beaten and battered and blinded, and her creations, and her destruction of them.

[Ghilan’nan’es Halla’lieu’ya]

The tavern erupts when they finish, and poor Neria blushes furiously as her back is slapped, and her hair is tousled, by the patrons of the establishment.

Aly and her new friend make their way to the bar, where foaming tankards await them.

They cheers, and as they tip the beer back, a city elf approaches them, dressed like a Dalish, but he has no vallaslin. He pushes his cowl down to reveal a bald head and shocking purple eyes. His voice is quiet, with a deep, romantic lilt.

“Where did you find that song?”

…

Please be gentle with any constructive criticism on my voice, I am absolutely NOT a singer, I know I don’t have a superstar voice but I’m also not tone deaf, so just… don’t be shitty to me, internet. Listen to the lyrics, not the delivery.

If anyone’s actually interested, I'll message you the lyrics. I also did record all four songs (Andraste, Dread Wolf, Ghilly (English), and Ghilly (Elvhen),) but can only put one video per post. Maybe I'll link them later if people are interested.

*It did not even occur to me until after writing Andraste’s Hallalujah that someone might have had this idea already. I did a little googling afterwards, and someone has put solas’ dialogue to the tune of Hallalujah, but no ones “re-written” it yet in this context (that I could find). My query to you is, why would Solas speak in Leonard Cohen's hallelujah/iambic pentameter if he had never heard it before?

---

Obviously, this can never be turned into a real song, because Sony owns the rights to the OG Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. But the romanticism of this song, changing through the ages, was too good to pass up. I hope you enjoy it, sincerely, and if you are a better singer than I, by all means, use my lyrics and record it, and please send me the link so that I can listen to it!  

Thanks to Weekes, Leonard Cohen, & The Dread Halla Tavern for inspiring this.

Bare your blade, and raise it high.

[wcters]

𝟮𝟰 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 + 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗥𝗬 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗥𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗘

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k+

summary: your view of the behind the scenes and video of “i ate and trained like lando norris for 24 hours”

warnings: swearing, some pda, sexual innuendos, flirting | here’s some redemption for lando, this may suck because i need to get better at writing transitions, please watch the video titled in the summary for context 😚

You were awoken by the feeling of a finger grazing your hip. You mumbled something incoherent and went to go back to sleep when you felt a kiss on your cheek. “Time to get up.” You heard your boyfriend whisper from behind you. “Go away.” You mumbled, still not fully awake and angry that you had been woken up. “Unless you want to be caught walking around in just a shirt and underwear in front of a camera, you need to get up.”

You let out a groan and rubbed your eyes as you remembered what day it was. Lando was filming a Quadrant video with Ethan and the man who rivalled you in how much you love your boyfriend, Morgan ━━ otherwise known as “Angry Ginge”. You and him had a rivalry, though it was just fun and games, and Lando and Morgan make it known a lot. “Fine, fine.” You shooed him away with a movement of your hand and moved to lay on your back as you finally opened your eyes.

When you looked around, you were blessed with the sight of your boyfriends bare back as he changed into a basic hoodie and pants. You let out a wolf whistle and he turned around to face you with a look on his face. “What? Can’t appreciate my wonderful boyfriend?” He laughed and turned around to continue. “As long as I can do the same to my girlfriend.”

The two of you fell into a quiet conversation of how the day was going to go as you willed yourself to get up from your extremely comfy bed to get ready. “What time is it anyway?” You had a habit of keeping your phone plugged in in the living room because even though your boyfriend was a multimillionaire, the plug in on your side of the bed was shitty and both of you don’t bother to get it fixed. You didn’t mind it too much though. When Lando wasn’t away at races, he was here with you and he’d let you know the time. When he wasn’t, you’d use the plug in on his side because you sleep on his side when he’s away anyway.

“Around 7:15. Wanted to give you time to shower and put makeup on if you needed to.” He replied, heading out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. You hummed in acknowledgment even though he couldn’t hear you and you finished getting dressed before heading to the bathroom to do your skincare and put makeup on. By the time you were done doing that and made your way into the kitchen it was 7:45. As Lando got prepared for filming, you spent the rest of the time cleaning up things around the house. It wasn’t messy, per se, but you wanted the house to look good for the guests and the boys. You know both Morgan and Ethan wouldn’t care about some coffee mugs left on the table or some blanket strewn about, but you didn’t care.

As you unplugged your phone to check the time and see if you had any missed messages the doorbell rang. You put your phone down as to not be rude. You had met Ethan before, but you’d never met Ginge in person before. You heard the door open and greetings being said before there are footsteps and the four figures come into view. You hug Ethan while telling him you missed him and hoped he’s doing good before making your way over to Ginge. “Y/n.” He said as if a brawl is about to start. You play along, “Morgan.” There’s silence as the camera films the encounter before you hug and greet each other. “It’s nice to meet you in person.” You tell him as you pull away. “You two, I guess.” He joked. You roll your eyes.

“Well, welcome in.” Lando interrupted as he gestures to the apartment. You lead the boys through a tour of the house as you point out different rooms ━━ and you add on embarrassing stories about Lando that make him blush.

“He takes up more space with his trophy’s than with you,” Ginge teased as he looked at the trophies on the side table in the living room. Lando opened his mouth to respond but you do it first. “At least we have trophies to put out? What do you have? The award for most annoying person ever?” Morgan started to rant and you laugh as you lean into Lando’s body. “We hang photos elsewhere.” You answer seriously this time. “All the embarrassing ones stay in the camera roll though. I wear a bonnet to bed and Lando thinks it’s hilarious and takes pictures every time. I’ve tried to get him to wear one as it’s good at protecting your hair, but he claimed he couldn’t sleep with it.” “I couldn’t!” “I’d pay to see that.”

Morgan played with the box and ended up breaking it ━━ you know how to fix it, you’re prepared, and you all make conversations as they set up the “interview” spot in the living room and film them. After that, you all make your way to the kitchen. “That better not be what we’re eatin’.” Ginge exclaimed as Lando opened the door to the fridge. “This is your breakfast, my friend.” Lando smiled and pointed to the containers. Morgan turned to you, “are you eating that?” You shook your head and let out a ‘no’. “That’s for him and you guys, I get my own food.” You tell them. “I want whatever that is because it has to be better than this.”

“This might be one of the best breakfasts you’ll ever have.” Lando told them. “Mate, that looks like you ate reakfast and then threw it up.” Ethan joked. “It’s actually not bad,” you interrupted as you started to make your breakfast, “I’ve had it before. It’s quite good, although I’m not a fan of cinnamon.” “It has cinnamon in it?” Ginge asked. “Apple, cinnamon, and pecan.” Lando answered. They chat about the texture and make fun of it as you finish making your breakfast.

“You normally up at this time?” Morgan questioned Lando. “Yeah.” “What about you y/n?” “Depends on the day,” you reply, “I’m normally not up this early but with travelling and work it changes.” “What time do you go to bed?” Morgan continued. “Depends.” “On what?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. “If they’re going at it, dirty bastards.” You laugh and Lando blushes at that. “It’s not always nighttime.” You winked at them before heading into the dining room and turning on your computer. You worked from home which made it easier to visit Lando at races. Most of them you went to, but sometimes you had to stay home as you had an important meeting or had to head into your works headquarters. You wanted to take the time you had right now to finish sending some emails and editing work before the day officially started.

There was some more conversation before Lando kissed your head and let you know that they were going to go do some training. A couple minutes passed before you were done replying to emails and things. “Y/n?” Lando called out to you from the workout room. “What?” You called back as you got up and closed your laptop. “Where are the workout bands?” “I think they’re in the bedroom.” You crossed your arms as you made your way into the hallway facing the room. “How have the workout bands made it to the bedroom?” Ethan asked out loud. “I do yoga in there because I like to watch my show while I do it,” you answered, “always so dirty minded Ethan.” You shake your head with a smile on your face.

Lando comes back with them and they continue with what they were doing before, obviously with some jokes ━━ especially about the mirror you have in there ━━ and Ginge “flirting” with your boyfriend. You joined in on some things like the planking and the stretches, but you opted out of most of it. Who could blame you? You preferred to ogle your boyfriend. You did the same when they moved on to the cryotherapy. “You not joinin’ us? Coward.” Morgan teased you as you stood behind the camera. “Mate, I do not need to be in -110 degrees. I didn’t do that full workout.” As they went in, you could hear the jokes and the laughing that was happening in there.

You turned to the camera to speak. “I’ve done that before, and let’s just say I never want to do it again. I felt like my tits were going to fall off. Their reactions are valid.” You told the camera as you knew their footage from inside was going in. When the three minutes were up, you let the boys know and they came rushing out as soon as the door was opened. “Mate, that was freezing.” Ethan said as he came out. “I felt the cold when the door was opened, I can’t imagine how you guys feel,” You laughed, “If you’re still cold when we get back to the house I’ll give you some blankets.”

The boys and you came home around one pm after the cryotherapy and they sat around the dining table as they get introduced to their lunch. You had leftovers from when you went out for dinner a couple days ago so you were eating that. Since this morning, you could tell that the boys were probably going to hate the menu today. You felt a little bad, but also thought it was funny. It was their video idea. You could hear Morgan’s complaining in the kitchen.

“What’s this though?” You hear Ginge ask as you enter the dining room. “Radish.” You answer as you take a peice of chicken from Lando’s bowl and put in your mouth. “Oh, that’s disgusting.” Ginge exclaimed once he puts the radish in his mouth. “I’ll just eat the mango, I’m not having anything else.” Ginge said with a furrow in his brow. “No, eat all of it.” “You can’t force it down my throat. “Here,” you started as you swallowed your bite, “eat what you can and you can have this. It’s still quite healthy but I assume it’s things you like.” You traded your meal with his. “I like those so I’ll eat them.” The camera panned to Lando and his face of disbelief. “I don’t know how you can like that.” Morgan glanced between you and the plate with disgust. You shrugged, “his nutritionist makes good food.” Ethan made a face that obviously says he disagrees and Lando laughs. “How often do you have this?” Morgan asked him as he takes a bit of your food. “About five times a week.” Lando answered, “though sometimes I’ll have leftovers like y/n was.”

“Do you ever get bored of this and think ‘fuck it, I’ll have a pizza’?” Lando laughs and then nods. “All the time.” You revealed to them, “though he’s usually good at sticking with that.” You point to the bowl in front of him. “Does y/n eating regular food make you jealous?” Ethan questioned and you laugh at the choice of words. “Sometimes, but she eats healthy as well so it’s the same level of nutrition and tastes quite similarly.” Lando explained. “Sometimes I’ll sneak him a pizza though.” You reveal as you smirk. “Hey, I do that to myself all the time.” Morgan joked.

There was some quiet conversation as the boys started their game of Jenga before Ginge spoke up. “How’d you two meet?” He asked as Ethan was trying carefully to get a brick out. “I was actually doing a media internship with McLaren in 2021. I have to be honest, I had no idea who Lando was. I had heard of Lewis a couple times but I wasn’t a big F1 fan. McLaren was just an opportunity that popped up and I took it.” You explained to everyone. “So, officially ending the rumours, you’re not a gold digger?” Morgan asked as a joke. You hummed, “I can’t say that.” You laugh. “I’m just kidding, no, I’m not. We made a deal that we half most things but he just gets to the bill before me most of the time. I need to work on being quicker.” The camera panned to Lando as he ate. “I like to spoil her.” “I’d let you spoil me Lando.” Ginge winked as the brunette. You jokingly glare at him. “I’m sorry, he just loves me too much.” He continued to say, “he’s just afraid to admit it.” “Oh yeah, I’m sure.” You nod slowly.

“How did you ask her out?” Ethan asked Lando. He put a finger to his lips, “it’s a secret.” Because he wouldn’t tell everyone looked at you. “He doesn’t want to tell because it’s embarrassing. I’m not allowed to tell.” You told them the truth. It was. If he just felt it was embarrassing you would’ve told but it really was embarrassing. He had a whole plan of what he was going to do but when I happened he got nervous and fucked it. The boys begged to hear the story. “The only thing I’ll say is I’m surprised I said yes.”

“It was that bad?” Morgan asked in disbelief. “I mean, I knew you were bad at flirting but I didn’t think it was that bad.” Lando blushed and tried it come up with a response. “Even if I knew before he asked me out he was rich, that probably wouldn’t change my chances of saying no.” Both Ethan and Ginge grimaced. “Does Max know?” Ethan then asked. “Nope. No one knows except for me and Lando ━━ and maybe Daniel who might’ve witnessed it.” Lando then jokingly hit you on the back of the head and you knew it was time to stop. You laughed and stuck your tongue out at him.

The next thing that Lando had planned for them was sim racing. He explained how it works and what circuit it was set on before he got on it to set up a baseline for what time they needed to get. “Who do you thinks going to be the best?” Ethan asked you as Lando was in the chair. “I mean . . . Ethan doesn’t even have his license but in that one quadrant video where they tested everyone’s driving skills he did alright,” you answered, “it’s also happening on a screen. I’ve never seen you drive,” you pointed to Morgan, “but I don’t know if I’d trust you.” Ethan gave you a fist bump as the ginger put a hand over his heart. “That wounds me, y/n.” “Just being honest.” You shrugged. “Too honest in my opinion.”

After setting a time and letting Ethan have a practice go, he let the boys know they had to be within 4.5 seconds of his time - having changed it from 10 and then having a mini fight with Ginge. It was Ethan’s turn first at the simulator. He did pretty well in your eyes ━━ besides hitting a cone and sliding off the track. Compared to Ginge, he was excellent. You didn’t know what was happening with Morgan and what he was doing, but you did know it was incredibly funny . . . And you definitely took videos of him freaking out that totally weren’t for blackmail.

After he crashed for the millionth time and you laughing again, he turned his face to you. “Do you want to give it a go then?” He challenge you. “Sure.” You replied, sliding into the seat as he got up. You’d done the sim a few times. Mostly Lando trying to teach you and you not getting it, but other times you’d be bored at the house and try to give it a try. You think you did well with the two times you tried it. You only crashed once and went off a few times, and were only a little better than Ethan. Morgan kept yelling and saying it was clearly rigged and that the software was dogshit.

The day in Monaco ended with going out for dinner and Lando taking the boys out for a helicopter ride. You didn’t know this, but in the final video cut there’d be clips but together of you and Morgan bickering all throughout the video and whenever this would happen, the camera would show either Lando and Ethan with a look on their face. Even though you pretended to not like Morgan, he was a pretty good guy. You had a good time with him and Ethan ━━ especially singing karaoke in the car.

And for anyone’s information, you were definitely forced to get Lightning McQueen crocs against your will.

+ moment featured in morgan’s vlog

You stood at the passenger side of the car with your arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “What?” Morgan asked you. “Why you starin’ at me like that?” “That’s my seat.” You tell him as you make a movement with your head. He makes a face, “you don’t claim seats. And I got here first. In the back you go.” That’s when Lando made his war to the car and into the drivers seat. “That’s her seat, mate.” He told the ginger. He makes the same face as he did before. He shakes his head and gets up, pulling his phone out of his pocket and begins to film. “This is discrimination against the poor. I’m suing you.” You smile at him. “Too bad, I’m his girlfriend, I get the passenger seat.” “You just wait until he dumps you for me, babe. Then you’ll be sorry.” “When that day happens, you can get the story of how he asked me out.”

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

-----------------------

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he waited in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

----------------------------

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

-----------------------------

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[kimoralov3]

a/n: it's never too early for christmas

“baby, what the fuck are you doing?” rafe asks as he drops his bag on the floor. the sound of his voice startles you, causing you to hold onto the ladder tightly. 

“oh my goodness, you scared me!” you say with a laugh as you regain your balance. rafe looks less than impressed as he takes a look around the room.

“are you— are you decorating for christmas already? it’s early november.” he says with a scoff as he looks up at you, his arms crossed over his chest. you give him a sheepish smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“it’s never too early to decorate for christmas.” you say as you grab a handful of the fake snow you had been placing on the tree and throw it in his direction. it misses— terribly so, athletics had never been your strong suit.

“people still have their pumpkins on their porches, baby.” he says as he comes to stand at the bottom of the ladder. 

“must you rain on my parade?” you say with a roll of your eyes, rafe smirking up at you.

“sometimes. it’s fun.” he says as he places his hands on your waist, making sure you get down from the ladder safely. “next time you want to do some spur of the moment decorating in high places, wait for me to get home, hm? can’t have my baby getting hurt when i’m not here to come save her.” his hands have found their way to your cheeks, rubbing them gently.

your cheeks warm at his words, you smacking his chest as you turn away from him. “yeah yeah, whatever. since you’re here now, you can go hang all the garlands from the balcony.” you say as you hand him the box of christmas decorations. 

he groans, tucking the box under one arm. “can’t i get a kiss before you put me to work?” 

you sigh dramatically, grabbing rafe by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a kiss. he smiles into the kiss, his free arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to him. you give him one final peck as you pull away before shooing him off to decorate the balcony.

“you owe me more than a simple kiss when i’m done with all this!” he calls out as he makes his way upstairs.

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ having a pregnancy scare wasn’t on rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader’s to do list anytime soon.. but alas, here they are waiting to see if two pink lines will change the trajectory of their lives forever.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of a breeding kink lol, super sweet fluff, slight humor, lots of crying

a/n: this is my not-so-subtle way of introducing babydaddy!rafe to my blog (i’ve been reading a lot of babydaddy!rafe lately.. yum) also just a reminder: pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this fic alone. meaning any other works i create with her are not correlated with this one UNLESS stated so <3 you could keep up with this little universe under the second tag of this post: ‘₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader & babydaddy!rafe’

“a-are you sure you’re late?” rafe was pacing back and forth, tears pricking your eyes as you flipped through your little calendar book. “yes! i look at my calendar everyday rafe, it’s been three weeks!” you sniffled, checking for the millionth time. rafe joined you on your bed, realizing he probably wasn’t making you feel any better if he was freaking out too. “hey..” he cupped your chin, “it’s gonna be okay, baby. what do you need me to do? ‘want me to go get some tests from the store?” you cried even more, the whole thing becoming too real all at once. “i don’t know! i don’t know what to do, ray!”

he sighed, holding you as you wept in his arms. “oh, baby,” rafe rubbed your back, “you know i’m going to take care of us, of you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. he wiped the tears from your eyes, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i know.. it’s just— this is so new, and even though we don’t have a for sure answer yet, i feel like i really am. you know.. pregnant?” saying it out loud made rafe’s heart drop to his stomach. you saw the way his expression softened, his eyes flickering down to where you two held hands.

while it shouldn’t be too surprising, considering you two never use protection.. it’s still a delicate matter that rafe took very seriously. “am i gonna sound crazy if i say i hope that you are?” you took a breath, stroking the side of rafe’s face. “no. i want it too.” letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he pulled you against his chest, embracing you once again. “why don’t we find out? ‘go to the pharmacy and get some tests?” you nodded, the anticipation already feeling unbearable. “okay.” you pulled away, getting under your knitted blanket.

“you’re not going with me?” rafe laughed. “are you joking? the owner has known me forever. if he see’s us buying a pregnancy test, he’ll—” you lowered your voice down to a whisper, “he’ll know what we’ve been doing..” your cheeks heated at the thought of the sweet old man who’s known you for all of your life checking you out for a test that indicates you’ve been doing a lot more than just baking cookies. “baby, if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, and far away from any kind of civilization, everyone on this island would know what we’ve been doing.” he winked.

at his words, you shooed him out of your camper as a giggle escaped your lips. he wasn’t wrong. rafe knew all the ways to make you scream and tremble in pure bliss. it felt like forever since rafe had been out, but one glance at the heart shaped clock on your wall, and it had only been ten minutes. you laid on your back, fingertips skimming your tummy. imagining a baby, half of you, and half of rafe, a result of two worlds, both full of so much love, colliding into one and making the most beautiful creation you were sure to ever see, made a smile grace your pretty face.

now you were thinking about a nursery, wondering if you’d be painting it baby pink or powder blue. either color was fine with you. sitting up, you looked around your camper, really seeing just how small it was. you and rafe barely fit in here together, let alone with a little baby that’ll eventually grow and want to run around. now you felt sad at the indication that you might have to move out of the only place you’ve ever known. this would change your life, but with rafe by your side you felt more ready than ever. just as you were going to call rafe and politely tell him to hurry up, he walked through the door.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so i just grabbed one of each.” rafe gave you the bag, plopping down next to you. there was about ten different tests in there, including a lot of the snacks you’d been craving over the last week. sour gummy bears, chocolate, and spicy chips mostly. taking out a pink box, you read the instructions before looking back at rafe who already had his full attention on you. “can you come with me?” without hesitation, rafe helped you up and guided you to the bathroom. “alright..” he leaned against the doorframe, watching as you unwrapped the test.

“i can’t really pee if you’re looking..” rafe had zoned out, thinking about house hunting already and wondering what kind of car seat would be the safest for a baby. “right, i’m sorry.” he turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. rafe needed the confirmation just as much as you did, his stomach doing somersaults as he nervously bit his lip. “you okay?” he asked. you hummed, peeing on the stick before setting it down on a piece of toilet paper. washing your hands shortly after, you and rafe left the test in the bathroom as you waited in silence.

“my heart is beating so fast right now.” you laughed, on the verge of tears as rafe rubbed circles into the flesh of your thigh. “i want you to know something..” rafe whispered, “whatever those test results come out to; negative or positive, we’re going to be okay. i don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright?” your chin wobbled as you nodded, your head falling in the curve of his neck. you stayed quiet for the rest of the time, the timer on rafe’s phone going off. “oh, god..” you whimpered, motioning for rafe to grab the test. “don’t look at it, just bring it over!” you called out.

rafe walked back with his eyes closed, nearly bumping into the wall as his hands trembled with excitement. “where are you?” he kept his eyes screwed shut, in which you followed suit. “i’m right here.” you squeaked out, holding onto his wrists. “on three we’re gonna look down.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “okay, i’m ready.” both of you smiled. “one, two, three—” both of you looked down, rafe jumping and running out of your camper as you stared down at the sight of two, very prominent, pink lines. rafe was shouting outside, the sound making you laugh as you took a seat on the couch.

“oh my god.” rafe poked his head in, your teary eyes meeting his. thankfully, he was able to read the room and calmed down a bit. “oh my god.” he repeated, kneeling down in front of you. “are you okay? are you happy?” rafe rubbed the side of your thighs, his touch providing a comfort like no other. “yes! i just can’t believe it..” you hugged him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “we have a lot of planning to do.” you sniffled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. rafe could already see it. the white house, the white picket fence, both of you were already two steps closer to your dreams becoming a reality.

“yeah, we do,” he agreed, “let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah?” you smiled, cupping his face. “i love you so much, this is crazy.” he kissed your lips before taking the test in his hands again. “a whole baby..” you were in utter disbelief. “maybe i should take the rest of the tests?” you stood up, taking the plastic bag with you to the bathroom. by the time you finished, the sun was already setting, both you and rafe staring at the approximately ten tests in front of you. all positive. “looks like we took the breeding kink a little too seriously, huh?” you looked up at rafe through his reflection in the mirror. “that was a good one.”

[suiana]

(yandere! zombie x gn! survivor reader) (im such a youtube shorts kid bruh this idea came to me because of a video i watched)

did you know that zombies retain their habits from when they were humans?

well you sure as hell do now, because why is your annoying neighbour still following you around?? he's literally fucking rotting???

"shoo! go away!"

you hiss at him, shooting a rubber band at him before quickly climbing up a tree. phew, you wouldn't be bothered by him from here. it's been like this for a few days now, your undead neighbour following you around as you did your best to survive in this ruined world.

you never really liked him, your neighbour that is. he's always been that one weird guy that keeps annoying you ever since he moved in. constantly knocking on your door and asking to have meals together, to getting to and from work at the same times as you... you're so sure that he was stalking you. how could it ever be a coincidence that he just somehow knew when you were going out and coming back from work?

but now you wouldn't ever know and it's not like you wanted to know anyway. ignorance is bliss after all. oh! he's also very stubborn and it's quite apparent in his zombie form.

"bweh."

"go away!"

the zombie hits at the tree you were sitting down on as he looks up at you with what seemed to be puppydog eyes. you could only grimace at the sight before checking through your supplies. shit, you're running out of stuff.

"ugh... i'll need to scavenge for food-"

"guh!"

you raise an eyebrow at your undead admirer before humming. right, you suppose it isn't that bad that you have him around... he gives you stuff that's useful and scares away other mobs (you think he eats them if they get too close to you). you would've actually coddled him like a dog if he wasn't trying to get into your pants or kiss you every second.

"thanks."

you lean forward and snatch the bad of chips from his rotting hands before stuffing it into your bag. mn, you could probably have that for your lunch and dinner tomorrow.

"let's see... i need to find a good place to sleep tonight."

"bwa! buh beh!"

your zombie immediately starts scratching at the tree bark before jutting his lower lip. huh...

"no, i'm not sleeping in your apartment."

"gah!"

you think you're starting to understand zombie language because why are you holding full on conversations with him??

"don't give me that face. you know our apartment complex is riddled with zombies. i don't want to be turned."

"kh... gur! rh..."

"you think i'm trusting you? i swear i saw our old neighbour lurking around there and he was an olympic sprinter."

you shake your finger at the zombie before sighing softly. why did this apocalypse have to happen? things were going great for you before this. you just had a raise and you were so close to landing a date with your hot boss!

if you didn't know any better you'd have thought that your little zombie admirer was the one who kickstarted this zombie apocalypse because of his jealousy. what did he work as before he turned? a scientist?

"tn... jhn... ngh..."

"don't act all sassy with me right now. it's not like i want to sleep in your place to begin with. you'd probably lock me in there with you and i'd be trapped."

"bah!"

rolling your eyes at the sassy undead man, you rest against the trunk of the tree and shut your eyes. might as well get some rest before setting off again.

"i'm going to rest now. help me keep an eye out."

"kah kah. jah?"

"no, i won't kiss you. and no, i most certainly won't reward you with myself. you're rotting, damnit! how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"ui..."

what in the sassy zombie apocalypse have you gotten yourself into?

[softspiderling]

can i go (where you go?) | j.v

summary:

“Hey, it’s me.”

After a short beat, you opened the door to look at him, your hair wet around your shoulders, water droplets wetting his shirt you were wearing. Despite the early morning hours, Jace felt a some rush of excitement running through him seeing you standing in his shirt in his bathroom.

“You good?”

“I think I just met your brother,” you said lightly, your cheeks pink.

OR; 5 times Jace’s family meets you (and the one time you meet them)

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: just incredibly tooth rotting fluff. i’m actually in love with them. in this modern universe, Alicent is married to Rhaenyra’s younger brother Baelon, Rhaenys and Viserys aren’t related, and Addam and Alyn aren’t Corlys’ sons. I think I solved the inbreeding, lol. Also, Harwin and Rhaenyra are happily married <3 (there will probably be more fics in this universe🤭)

word count: 7,2k (HOW)

author’s note: everyone knows i love a good 5 + 1 fic. this was born out of @eldrith and me just coming up with modern au headcanons and modern!jace consuming my thoughts at work. happy happy reading, I hope you're obsessed! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I Luke

“Jace… Hey, Jace.”

Jace let out a groan, burowing deeper into the cushions, hoping to drown out the voice.

“Jace!”

Someone grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him violently and Jace groaned, his eyes fluttering open just to see his brother peer down at him, his damp hair plastered against his forehead. Jace knew it was entirely too early for him to be awake with the way his body still felt too heavy. He glared at Luke, his annoyance clear as day.

“Luke, what the fuck.”

“Hey, I’ve just come from the gym, the showers in my dorm were blocked off because a pipe burst, can I shower here?”

Jace whined, turning his head to face the pillow, hoping it would smother him. Anything to be unconscious again.

“Couldn’t you just have showered at the gym?”

“I have a class at 10,” Luke replied, as if that answered the question.

It didn’t.

Jace didnt react, hoping that Luke would just leave if he feigned falling back asleep, but Luke grabbed him by the shoulders again.

“Jace.”

“Oh my god, just go use the shower, you’re here already!”

“Thanks, you’re the best!”

The mattress dipped again and footsteps receded before Jace was finally alone again, falling back into a slumber.

Wait, had he been alone?

He could distinctly remember you coming home with him the night before but the bed was empty when Jace reached his hand out looking for you. You must have snuck out in the early hours of the day. Jace would definitely confront you about that as soon as he was awake enough to do it.

Just as he was about to drift back to dream land, a high pitched squeal woke him right up, and he shot up in bed, wide awake.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry!”

A door slammed, hurried footsteps came towards his bedroom before Luke barged through the door with wild eyes; shutting it behind him.

“There’s a girl in your bathroom!” He said, his voice accusatory as he glared at Jace, with his back against the door. Luke’s cheeks were red, and Jace wasn’t sure if it was the remaining flush from the gym or because he was embarrassed.

Jace only blinked at him, before wiping his palm over his face.

“Fuck.”

Luke frowned at him. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

“She’s not-“ Jace broke off, sighing. “It’s not important.”

He got out of the bed, shooing Luke away from the door and padded towards his bathroom, trying to make sure his younger brother hadn’t completely scared you off. The bathroom was locked and Jace leaned against the doorframe, rapping his knuckles against the door.

“Hey, it’s me.”

After a short beat, you opened the door to look at him, your hair wet around your shoulders, water droplets wetting his shirt you were wearing. Despite the early morning hours, Jace felt a some rush of excitement running through him seeing you standing in his shirt in his bathroom.

“You good?”

“I think I just met your brother,” you said lightly, your cheeks pink.

The corner of Jace’s mouth tugged up and he flexed his hand around your waist, pulling you closer. Luke was lucky he met you so early in the day, your temper still subdued from sleep. Had it happened in the afternoon? Luke would’ve gotten an earful.

“Are you okay? I can make him leave if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No it’s fine,” you huffed, hiding your face in his shoulders. “I was not prepared to meet him.”

Jace wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning his chin on your head with a grin. “You don’t have to be prepared to meet Luke. You just meet him and go “what a dork”, there’s not much else after that.”

“Yo!” Luke crowed outside. “I heard that!”

“You were supposed to!”

“Can I just take a shower please!!!”

Jace rolled his eyes, his hand dropping down to lace his fingers with yours. “Come on, I’ll make you a coffee.”

He pulled you into the kitchen, turning his coffee machine on, meanwhile hearing Luke flee into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. By the time his younger brother emerged again, his hair towel damp, you and Jace were sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal in hand, your feet in Jace’s lap.

Luke stood in the door way like a deer in headlights as you and Jace looked at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you said lightly; Jace only snorted into his bowl.

“Sorry again… About earlier. I’m Luke,” Luke said, rubbing the back of his neck, but you only waved it off as you introduced yourself. Luke glanced between the two of you, the wheels in his head must be turning a mile a minute. Jace did not look forward to whatever he was going to say.

“So… Are you guys like going steady?”

You pulled a face and Jace only sighed. Of course he chose to be a dick.

“Get out.”

Luke grinned, having expected the reaction. “Kay. Thanks for letting me use your shower,” he called over his shoulder, “Bye Jace, bye shower girl!”

The door fell shut in its hinges and Jace welcomed the silence that followed.

“I should’ve never given him the spare key,” he muttered, but you only pressed your heel into his leg.

“Stop it, he’s sweet.”

“He’s a menace.”

“He’s your little brother,” you laughed, pushing your empty bowl on the coffee table. “He’s supposed to get on your nerves, it’s literally in the job description.”

His bowl soon joined yours on the table as Jace wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you into his lap. You grinned at him, tucking his hair behind his ear, as he played with the hem of his shirt you were wearing.

“I like that you feel comfortable enough at my place to take a shower,” he mumbled, nosing along your neck.

“Shut up.”

II Rhaena

“Man, that was way too close,” Addam groaned as they walked into the locker room. Their game against the Stags of Stormlands University had ended with 2:1, which was criminal. It should’ve been at least 3:1 and Jace wasn’t even being arrogant. That one goal they scored against them was pure luck.

“Coach is gonna be on our asses during the next practice,” Alyn said as he tugged off his jersey.

“As if he needs a reason to make us run suicides,” Cregan pointed out and Jace shrugged.

“It wasn’t entirely our fault, though. The audience was crazy today. What happened after half time? There was some commotion in the stands.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” Alyn snickered. “Apparently some girl punched Criston square in the face after he made some of his usual comments.”

“What?” Addam asked, his eyebrows risen as Jace only laughed.

“No way. That girl’s my hero.”

“I’m buying her a drink,” Cregan declared. “Do we know who it was?”

Alyn shook his head in no. “Nah, I just overheard some guys talking about it…” he then turned to Jace. “You coming to the bar with us?” Alyn asked. “My treat.”

“I can’t,” Jace replied, but before he could elaborate, Cregan wrapped his arm around his shoulder, squeezing him.

“Lover boy is meeting his girlfriend, he told me all about it.”

Jace’s cheeks tinged pink and he shoved Cregan off, huffing.

“Fuck off.”

“Leave him alone,” Addam said lightly from the bench, untying his shoes. “If I had another choice, I wouldn’t go to the bar with you either.”

“Thank you Addam,” Jace said, giving Alyn and Cregan, who were snickering to themselves, a pointed look. He grabbed a towel and his shower caddy from the locker, turning back to his friends.

“Have fun at the bar. I’ll see you guys around.”

Jace ignored how they made kissy sounds after him, rolling his eyes at them fondly. After taking a quick shower, and getting dressed, he made his way to the spot you had agreed to meet him. He passed a few familiar faces who congratulated him on the win, but he made no attempt to stay in a conversation too long, not wanting to keep you waiting. When he got to the gates of the football field, you were nowhere to be found though. Maybe you were held up by your friends. Jace shot you a text, telling you where he was, then pulling up his family group chat. His parents and Joffrey had gone hiking over the weekend, but his dad had received updates on the game via the uni’s newsletter, both of them sending him well done’s. Luke had watched the game with his friends, and Jace had no doubt he was now at the same bar his team mates were headed to. Jace then pulled up the text chain with you, but his texts to you went unanswered. With a sigh, he opened Find my..? frowning when he saw your icon float over the building that held the student med center.

“What the hell?” he muttered to himself, shoving his phone into his pocket, walking to the student med center in quick strides. The building was dark when he arrived, but the door was unlocked when he pulled on it. Jace stood in the dark for a while, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, when he heard voices coming from somewhere. Following the sound, he reached the examination room, the voices becoming more distinctive.

“-never punched someone, why has no one ever told me that it hurts so much? He’s the one who should be hurt, not me!”

“You’d be surprised. You can actually break something while punching someone.”

Jace paused in the doorway, watching as you sat on the bed, ice pack in your hand, while another girl was rummaging in the cupboards with her back to him. You looked up when he called your name, and the smile on your face nearly made him forget how worried he was.

“Hey,” you said, “Rhaena, this is my-“

“Jace?”

Of course it was Rhaena. Out of all the student meds, it had to be his cousin tending to you. You glanced between them your eyebrows high.

“You guys know each other?”

“Rhaena is my cousin,” Jace explained, distracted, his focus on your hand. “What happened?”

“Supergirl over here punched Cole in the face.”

“Criston Cole?”

“The one and only.”

Jace sighed, sitting down next to you to lift the ice back from your knuckles, frowning when he found them bloody.

“She’s bleeding!”

Rhaena rolled her eyes, holding up some gauze and disinfectant spray. “Yes, I was looking for the gauze, thanks for reminding me.”

Jace frowned as Rhaena sat on your other side.

“This is probably gonna sting,” she warned you, before spraying disinfectant on your wounds, but you winced anyway. Jace watched as Rhaena patched you up, the frown on his forehead not easing.

“Alright, we’re all done,” Rhaena said, balling up the wrapper. “I want you to keep that ice pack on for twenty minutes, it can reduce the swelling. And maybe try to keep it elevated, and lots of resting!”

“Okay,” Jace said, matter of factly.

Both you and Rhaena looked at him - you looking amused, while Rhaena looked exasperated - and he only shrugged.

“What? You know damn well you’re not gonna do anything she just said,” he argued and you grinned, turning to Rhaena.

“Duly noted, thanks Rhaena.”

“Alright, let’s get out of here,” Rhaena said, throwing the wrappers in the trash before shooeing you and Jace out of the building. As you walked outside, you and Rhaena seemed to be get along like a house on fire as Jace held your purse, and by the time you were standing out front, you had exchanged numbers.

“Hey, so really come by when I’m working, and I’ll treat you for a coffee,” you said while Rhaena locked up.

“Sure, that’ll be nice,” Rhaena replied, packing her keys away. “It was really nice to meet you.”

You beamed at her. “You too!”

His cousin smiled at you before turning to Jace. “I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Yep. Thanks Rhae.”

Jace gave her a hug, and she quickly hugged you as well, before waving in good bye.

“Bye, see you guys!”

“Bye Rhaena!”

Jace pulled you close as you walked, his forehead still creased. You were supposed to go out for dinner, but by now your reservation had probably fallen through, so Jace might as well just cook you dinner at home. He couldn’t help but glance at your hand, which you noticed immediately.

“Jace, I’m fine,” you insisted with a laugh, grabbing his hand to reassure him, but no dice.

“I know Cole is a pain in the ass, but why did you punch him?” he asked, his forehead creased. “You could get in trouble. And on top of that, you got hurt!”

“It’s just bruised knuckles and a little blood, it’ll be healed before you know it,” you promised him. “Besides, Cole had it coming. He was sprouting bullshit about how he should’ve made the team instead of you and was just being a dick.”

Jace froze mid step, and you were dragged back by him, not having expected the sudden stop.

“You were defending my honor?”

You glanced at him, lips quirking in a smile.

“I’ll always defend your honor.”

In that moment, Jace was so overcome with emotion, he thought he might do something stupid like tell you that he loved you, so he just pulled you into a deep kiss. You sighed softly against his lips, before you pulled back, looking at him in surprise.

“What was that for?”

“Can’t a guy thank his knight in shining armor?”

You snickered, lacing your hands with his.

“You can thank me by getting some food in me, I am starving.”

III Joffrey

“It’s nice here.”

The sun was shining, reflecting its rays over the surface of the water. It was rather still today, a stark contrast to the strong waves that usually lapped at the shore of Driftmark. The small coast town was only an half an hour drive from uni and since you had never been here before, Jace had decided to take you for an impromptu trip, armed with a blanket and some snacks, but not much else. The two of you were sat on said blanket, you sitting between his legs, head resting on his chest. Jace wished it could be like this forever.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to Driftmark,” he said, amused. “My parents used to take us every weekend when we were younger. Luke and I used to fly kites, but his always fell nose first into the sand.”

You laughed, pressing yourself closer into Jace.

“That’s sweet,” you mumbled softly, your voice trailing off. “So how many girls have you taken here?”

Jace rolled his eyes fondly, his finger tracing your arm. If only you knew. He hummed, as if in thought.

“Let’s see, there was that one girl from Lambda Psi, then Jessica from my International Relations class…”

You laughed, squirming in his arms as you smacked his hand away.

“You’re an ass.”

He tightened his hold on you, a grin on his face. “You started it!”

Giggling, you settled back into him and Jace let out a happy sigh, but the moment was quickly interrupted by his phone ringing. He had half a mind to decline the call, but he paused when he saw the caller ID.

“Why is my mum calling me?” Jace said, frowning at his phone before picking up the call. “Hey mum, is everything okay?”

“Jace, thank god,” his mother sighed in relief. The background was noisy, if Jace had to guess, she must be at work. “My meeting is running longer than expected and I won’t be able to make it in time to pick up Joffrey from school, is there any way you could make the drive down here to pick him up?”

Jace glanced at his watch. It was almost 3 in the afternoon and on a good day, it took 25 minutes to get from Driftmark to Joffrey’s school in King’s Landing. But that meant, you’d have to tag along, because there was no way he’d make it in time for Joffrey’s school’s out if he dropped you off beforehand.

“… Mum, can you give me a second?”

His mother paused. “… Sure.”

He muted the call from his side and you had already turned around to face him, your eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s going on?”

“My mum is stuck at work and she asked me to go pick up my brother from school,” Jace started. “I’m not going to make it in time if we’ll make the drive back to Oldtown-”

“Jace, oh my god, it’s fine, let’s go,” you exclaimed, already standing up and collecting all the things you had brought.

Jace stared at you for a second, slack-jawed, before he dipped his head, smiling to himself. He quickly unmuted the phone call while he got to his feet.

“I’ll pick him up mum, it’s not a problem,” he said, while helping you put away the blanket with one hand.

“Thank you, Jace,” his mother said, her tone hesitant, like she was holding back a question, but before she could ask it, another voice called for her. “I’ll call the school and let them know you’re coming,” she said distractedly.

“Okay mum, thanks. Have fun at the meeting!”

Slipping his phone into his pocket, he turned to see you with everything packed.

“Come on, let’s go!” you hurried him, taking his hand to drag him to his car, missing the blinding smile Jace had on his face.

The drive to King’s Landing was quicker than expected, with the streets being free and Jace made it to Joffrey’s school right around 3:30, the cars from several other parents already lined up to enter the pick up zone.

“Are you okay waiting in the car?” Jace asked, turning to you, “I’ll be in and out in no time.”

“Yeah, of course,” you assured him, patting his knee.

Jace couldn’t help but lean over to press a kiss on your cheek, nearly missing his turn to find a temporary parking spot, but the security guard waved him along.

“Keep it moving, son.”

“Isn’t this the pick up zone for school?” Jace asked, unbuckling. “I can park here, right?”

The security guard eyed his license plate, before checking his clipboard. “Don’t see your license plate on my list, you gotta keep it moving.”

“You’re joking.”

The man blinked at him, clearly not joking.

“I only need to go in and grab my brother, it won’t even take five minutes,” Jace argued but the security guard shook his head, unrelenting.

“Can’t make an exception, rules are rules.”

Jace opened his mouth to try to make another argument, but behind him, the cars started to honk their horns at him, parents impatient to pick up their kids. Jace’s ears grew hot but before he could lash out at the security guard, you laid your hand on his arm.

“Jace, I can go get your brother.”

“Are you sure?” Jace asked, frowning. He felt bad for making you go along, ruining the day he had planned. You didn’t sign up for this and he didn’t want to make you go into a school full of kids to pick up his brother.

“Yes, I promise,” you said, a smile on your face as you squeezed his hand and he sighed, nodding.

“Okay.”

He gave you a rough description of the way inside the school and Joffrey’s classroom number, before you got out of the car, as Jace exited the pick up zone, but not without giving the security guard a dirty look. He drove around the block, parking his car next to the curb when his phone rang announcing a facetime from you.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Jace asked as he picked up. The screen was blurry, and you were barely visibly as you stared at something behind the camera

“Hey, no, Joffrey just wanted to make sure I wasn’t lying,” you said, distractedly. “Alright Joffrey.”

The camera panned away from you until Joffrey came into view. His baby brother looked sceptical, clutching the straps of his red backpack, but his frown eased when he saw Jace.

“Hi Jace.”

“Hi Joff,” Jace said, his voice soft. “I know mum was supposed to pick you up, but her meeting ran long so she asked me to get you. I’m waiting in the car, alright? Are you going to be okay walking with my friend?”

Joffrey looked off camera, assumedly at you before turning back to Jace, scrunching his nose. “Mummy said I shouldn’t go with strangers.”

“And she’s right!” Jace quickly interjected, knowing his mother would kill him if he unraveled all the things she had been teaching Joffrey ever since he was old enough to talk. “But this is my friend, right? Not a stranger.”

With a purse on his lips, Joffrey seemed to think his words over before nodding.

“Okay.”

Joffrey waved at him through the camera before looking up.

“Can we go now?”

Jace heard you suppress a laughter as the phone shook. Joffrey didn’t look phased.

“Yes,” you said. “Come on, let’s go.”

You offered your hand to him, before you quickly panned the camera on yourself again. “See you in a bit, Jace.”

The call ended and Jace quietly laughed to himself as he tossed his phone on the passenger seat, driving back towards the school. He didn’t wait long in front of the curb when you and Joffrey came walking out, you carrying his backpack and Joffrey carrying a booster seat.

“Alright, now let’s get your backpack in here-” you said, opening the door to put Joffrey’s backpack on the backseat, then scooching it over to put the booster seat on as well. “And then you go into the booster-”

“Hi Jace!”

Jace turned around, smiling as he watched Joffrey settle into his booster seat comfortably while you fussed over him.

“Hi Joff.”

“Okay, now the seatbelt… Is this too tight?” you asked as you buckled Joffrey in, but he shook his head. You gave him a thumbs up, before shutting the door behind him, climbing back into the passenger’s seat so Jace could pull away from the curb.

“How was school?” Jace asked Joffrey with a quick glance at him through the mirror.

“Good,” Joffrey replied, “We learned about shapes.”

He then fully launched into a retelling of how his classmates thought circles and triangles are the same and Jace meant to give you an apologetic look, but to his surprise, you seemed to be listening intently.

“No way! I bet his mind was blown when you told him about rectangles!”

“He thought I was lying!”

Jace quietly snickered to himself and you grinned at him, as Joffrey continued to babble on in the backseat. Without thinking much, Jace had started the drive back to Oldtown.

“Is it okay if I drop you off at home?” Jace asked, his voice quiet, even though Joffrey was humming a song that sounded vaguely familiar to Jace as he looked out of the window, content after telling you about his school day. “I think I’ll drive back to King’s Landing and spend the night at home.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” you said, smiling at him and Jace’s heart did a stupid flip in his chest. He reached over to squeeze your hand, forgetting about his brother in his backseat for a split second.

“What kind of friends are you?”

His neck grew hot and he almost reflexively pulled his hand back, but you tightened your hold.

“The bestest friends,” you said, turning around to look at him with the most serious expression you could muster. Joffrey pressed his lips together in an attempt to bite back a smile, but a giggle escaped his lips.

“Bestest is not even a word.”

“Well, I made it up because Jace and I are bestest friends.”

“You’re silly,” Joffrey laughed and you gasped, faking affront.

The rest of the drive continued about the same until Jace pulled up in front of your building. Your hand was on the door handle, but you threw a look to the back at Joffrey, clearly reluctant to go.

“Bye Joffrey, it was really nice to meet you,” you told him with a smile.

“Bye!”

Your eyes turned to Jace, who desperately wanted to kiss you, but he wouldn’t, not in front of Joffrey, so he only inclined his head at you, hoping you knew.

“Bye,” you said softly, cheeks pink as you got out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

“Bye!” Joffrey called, waving at you through the window until you disappeared inside your apartment building. His baby brother then turned to him, a smile on his face.

“I like her.”

Pleased, Jace settled back into his seat, putting the car back in drive, his eye on his brother through the mirror.

“Me too, buddy.”

IV Aegon

“I don’t get why you won’t just make it official when you’re obviously so into her.”

“Can we not talk about this?”

The music coming from inside was loud, but Jace wished it was louder so he didn’t have to talk about this. Of course he’d rather officially call you his girlfriend than… Whatever it was he was calling you right now. But it was complicated, the both of you starting out casually, no labels.

That was almost four months ago and things had changed. For him at least.

Cregan kicked his foot, forcing Jace to look at him.

“I’m serious, Jace. You’re insanely into her and she obviously likes you too.”

Jace pretended like hearing that didn’t make him happy, looking around for you.

“Where is she anyway?” Jace asked and Cregan only sighed at the obvious attempt of changing the topic.

“Last I saw, she and her foxy friend were trying to get drinks.”

Jace rolled his eyes, pushed himself up from the chair.

“I’ll go look for her,” he said, taking a few steps before turning back to his friend. “And don’t call Alysanne foxy.”

Cregan’s bellowing laughter made Jace grin, and he only shook his head, opening the patio door to head inside. The air was stuffy and smelt of alcohol, but he was used to it as he squeezed past a kissing couple, craning his head over the crowd to try to spot you somewhere in the crowded house. He usually didn’t like splitting up with you at parties because it was a pain finding each other again. You also had an habit to make so many friends in a short amount of time.

When Jace finally made it to the kitchen, he saw the back of your head and he let out a sigh of relief. His face blanched however, when he saw who you were talking to. Calling out your name, you turned around with a cup in your hand as he walked up to you.

“Jacey!”

His cousin grinned widely at him as Jace joined you and Aegon by the kitchen island, as you slotted yourself against his side. You seemed content, like you were enjoying yourself. Jace took that as a good sign.

“Hi Aegon,” Jace greeted him lightly, before turning to you. “I see you’ve met my cousin.”

“Rhaena‘s brother?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

“You met Rhaena?”

Aegon’s brows were even higher than yours as his eyes flitted between Jace and you curiously, sipping on his drink. Jace already knew this would make it into the cousins’ group chat in a matter of minutes.

“Aegon’s from the other side. Kind of,” Jace answered, pulling a face. “It’s complicated.”

You smiled at him and Aegon’s grin only widened. Jace wished he would disappear the way he always did when their grandpa asked for help in the garage.

“So how did you guys meet?” he asked, voice nonchalant. “You don’t look like a PoliSci student to me.”

“I’m not,” you replied, laughing. “Jace always gets coffee at the coffee shop I work at.”

“Oh, which one do you work at?”

“Blackwood’s, the one on 50th?”

Aegon’s eyes widened and he nodded his head quickly. “Yes, I know that one. Do you think you could give me the recipe for the almond croissants? I’ve tried recreating them so many times and they never turn out like the one’s at the coffee shop.”

“I can ask my friend, if you want me to,” you offered. “It’s her uncle’s coffee shop, he’s gotta have the recipe.”

“Oh and what about the syrups, are those-”

“Alright, this isn’t 20 questions,” Jace interjected, knowing there was no stopping Aegon if he started talking syrups. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Aegon?”

Aegon pressed his lips together in a grin, shaking his head. “Fine, Jace, I’ll leave you guys alone. But only because I know I’ll have other opportunities to ask for recipes.”

Jace narrowed his eyes at his cousin, but he had turned his attention to you.

“Nice talking to you,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you at one of our family events, yeah?”

“Bye Aegon.”

Jace could hear Aegon cackling to himself as he lead you away, his hand on your lower back. He was mortified. Out of everyone at this party, you just had to run into Aegon. To Jace’s luck however, you seemed mostly amused by his erratic cousin.

“I like him,” you said and Jace huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You don’t have to lie. I don’t like him either.”

You snorted, shoving him playfully. “I’m not lying. He’s very outgoing, but I like him.”

Jace pressed closer to you as you made your way out of the pation and you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing at him.

“So is your entire family just enrolled here?”

“Basically, yeah,” Jace sighed, “The only cousin of mine who’s not at this uni is Daeron but apparently he’s transferring next term.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet all of them.”

Jace let out a laugh, wrapping his arm around you when you finally made it out of the house, Cregan still sitting on the sun chairs, Alysanne next to him as they talked. Jace had wondered where you had left her.

TARGTOWERS 2.0

Aegon [01:21 am]: have y’all met jace’s new gf yet??

Jace left the chat.

Aegon added Jace to the chat.

Jace [02:04 am]: I hate you

Aegon [02:05 am]: <3

V Harwin

“If my husband doesn’t look like that like 25 years down the line, I definitely did something wrong.”

Jace only caught the tail end of the conversation, but knowing you and Alysanne, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what you were talking about. The two of you found the most bizarre things to talk about, it was astounding.

“What are we talking about?” he asked nevertheless, pulling out a chair next to you.

“There was this hot guy at the coffee shop earlier today, trying to find a good restaurant for dinner with his son,” Alysanne explained and you nodded.

“Super hot.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel special.”

You quirked a grin at him, leaning over to kiss him, your hand on his leg. Eagerly, Jace returned the kiss, deepening it which might be a tad inappropriate for the library, but he didn’t care. He never did when it came to you.

“Eurgh,” Alysanne said, rolling her eyes. Jace paid her no mind, already used to her antics, but you pulled away before it could any less PG13.

“Hi,” you mumbled, licking over over lips and Jace resisted the urge to kiss you again. “Am I seeing you tonight?”

“I might come over a little later than usual,” he said with a sigh, playing with the straps of your top. “Luke said he wanted to meet me for dinner.”

“Can you guys please go to Jace’s?” Alysanne interjected “I’d really love to have one night without hearing you guys have sex.”

“Oh come off it, Aly,” you laughed, swatting at your friend and she snickered. “You’re literally on the other side of the apartment and we barely hang out at our place.”

Alysanne stuck her tongue out at you and you only flipped her off before turning back to Jace.

“So eleven?”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” he said, nodding. “But I’ll text you, yeah?”

You hummed, and Jace pulled your chair closer to his, almost forgetting he had come to the library to study for a test. Next to you, Alysanne was rolling her eyes but he could tell that she was pleased by the way she let her hair fall over the side to give you privacy.

Well, as much privacy there was in a university library.

“How did you find out about this place anyway, dad?” Jace asked, reaching for his beer.

Turned out, Luke didn’t want to get dinner. Their father did. He had a work thing in Driftmark and decided to make it to Oldtown for a quick visit, surprising Jace. His dad felt bad for missing Jace’s first game of the season; he had always made it to Jace’s first game of the season ever since he started playing football when he was 7 years old. It was like an unspoken tradition.

Harwin Strong was a man of tradition and loyalty, and even though Jace had promised him it wasn’t that much of a deal, he had felt guilty either way.

“This nice girl at the coffee shop recommended it to me,” his father said, and Jace nearly spat out his beer all over the table. So it must have been his father you and Alysanne had been talking about earlier in the library. God really loved to play games with him.

“What coffee shop?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible. Maybe it was just a coincidence, right? There were lots of coffee shops in Oldtown.

“Blackwood’s I think? She said this was her boyfriend’s favorite restaurant,” his father explained, glancing over the menu. Jace’s heart stuttered in his chest at the word boyfriend before his father grimaced. “Well, she paused between boy and friend. It seemed like there was more to the story but I didn’t want to pry.”

“How funny,” Luke said, peering over his menu. “This is Jace’s favorite restaurant, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Jace pressed out, glaring at his brother while kicking him in the shins.

“Ow!”

“Boys, please.”

Jace and Luke exchanged dirty looks, before turning their attention back on their menus.

“You know what I don’t understand?” his father started, but Jace interrupted him before he could continue.

“The steak sizes are their thing, no one actually orders the 14 oz steak.”

His father furrowed his eyes at him, confused.

“What? No, I’m going to order the fish,” he said, shaking his head. “What I was trying to say is, what is it with your generation and casual dating?”

Jace’s ears grew hot and Luke howled in laughter, nearly falling off the chair. His father glanced between them.

“Did I miss something?”

“No,” Jace said pointedly in Luke’s direction before turning back to his father. “I’m not saying that casual dating is good, or whatever, but sometimes it’s… Complicated.”

“Complicated?” his father echoed. “Either you love someone or you don’t. When I first met your mother, I knew immediately that she was the one for me. I wasn’t going to waste my time on casually dating her.”

“That sounds really smart,” Luke said, nodding earnestly, but Jace only rolled his eyes. What an idiot. “Sounds like something a lot of people our age should do.”

“How was Econ 101, Luke?” Jace asked, his voice low and Luke narrowed his eyes at him.

“Wimp!”

“Narc!”

“So!” their father said, clearly ignoring their exchange, laying his menu down as he looked at his two eldest sons. “Are there any people in your life I should meet, Jace?”

Jace only sighed, leaning back in his chair while Luke burst out in laughter again.

“Dad, come on.”

+ I

You had been quiet for the most of the drive, which made Jace nervous. You hadn’t been his girlfriend long before his grandpa’s birthday rolled around. Actually, Jace had finally broke down and asked, begged, you to finally go out with him for real the night he got home from dinner with his father and Luke. Something about the way his father spoke about him and his mother just made Jace realize he hated this unlabeled, uncertain situationship he had with you. He wanted something real.

He was scared shitless when it took you a good minute to reply God, it took you long enough!

About a month later, his mother had texted him about the plans for his grandpa’s birthday and he had decided it was about time you met his family. You had met most of them already anyway.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” you suddenly said, eyes darting outside the window.

“What? Why?” Jace said, glancing over at you. He had half a mind to stop the car, but it was less than 2 minutes before he’d be home.

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Babe.”

“What if they don’t like me?”

Despite being one turn away from his house, Jace pulled up to the curb, turning off his car. Uttering your name softly, he reached over to grasp your hand.

“You don’t need to worry, I promise,” he assured you. Your hands were clammy, you must be so much more nervous than he had initially thought, which was endearing, really. “You’ve already met most of them, remember? And they all love you.”

“So far,” you corrected him and he sighed in exasperation, giving you a fond smile.

“You’ve already met the worst person in my family and Aegon still spams our groupchat with pictures from the pastries he’s baking with the recipes you gave him. The rest of my family is harmless compared to him.”

You quirked a smile at him, letting out a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Jace hummed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He squeezed your hand, not letting go as he started his car again. Even when you walked up to the front porch, past all the cars in the drive way, you were still holding onto his hand, like a lifeline in a storm.

It didn’t take long until the heavy wooden door opened, and Luke stood before them, grinning.

“I was wondering when you guys would get here,” he said, turning to his side. “Mum, it’s Jace and his girlfriend!”

“Thanks for that, dummy,” Jace hissed, punching Luke’s arm as he passed him. Luke winced in pain, glowering at his older brother, waving at you with a smile. Jace lead you through the entry hall into the living room when Joffrey came running around the corner, latching himself to your legs as he called out your name.

“Hi Joffrey,” you laughed, ruffling the young boy’s hair. “How are you?”

“So good!”

Your nerves seemed to calm as you chattered away with Joffrey, having dropped Jace’s hand for his brother’s, but Jace didn’t mind. Your feet came to a slow stop however, when you reached the living room.

His mother was fixing up the flowers on the table, beaming when she saw you come in.

“Jace!”

“Hi mum.”

Jace hugged his mother in greeting, before taking your hand. “Mum, this is-”

“Oh, welcome to the family,” his mother said, pulling you into a hug as well, surprising you as you let out a laugh.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” you said shyly, smiling at his mother when she pulled away to look at you.

“And you! I have been waiting for the day Jace finally introduced us! I just knew that he was with a girl when I asked him to pick up Joffrey,” she said, shaking her head fondly. “He was so defensive when I tried to ask for details.”

“Mum,” Jace protested and his mother only waved him off.

“Your father must be wrangling with your cousins in the kitchen… Honey, Jace and his girlfriend are here!”

“I’m coming!”

His father walked into the living room with a strawberry cake in his hand, a smile on his face when his eyes laid on you, before turning to Jace, then back to you, realization dawning on him.

“That’s the boyfriend?”

You flushed, nodding with a laugh.

“Yes.”

His father only shook his head, giving you a brief hug before glancing at his son.

“I taught you better, son.”

“I know dad,” Jace sighed, ducking his head when his father reached out to ruffle his hair.

His mother seemed confused, though it didn’t help when his cousins and Luke tumbled out of the kitchen, bickering. As usual.

“- stop it! You’ll ruin the cake!” Aegon lifted the cake out of Baela’s grasp, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Oh, hey! Told you we’d see each other at one point!”

“Supergirl, how’s the hand doing?”

“Supergirl? She’s obviously shower girl.”

“… Do I even want to know?”

His mother glanced around the room, starting to connect the dots.

“Am I the only one who hasn’t met you yet?”

“I haven’t met her yet!”

The rest of his cousins rushed forward to introduce themselves and you nearly sank into a wave of white hair with Joffrey still hanging off your arm. You seemed to be doing well, though, Baela and Helaena laughing as Rhaena recounted the story of how you met and Aemond and Daeron trying to give you tips on how to punch someone without getting injured.

“I like her,” his mother said as she bumped his shoulder.

Jace’s chest warmed, though he shrugged. “You barely know her yet.” Even though he knew his family would like you no matter what, it felt good to hear it spoken.

“She seems to be handling herself well around your cousins and it looks like to me she already won half of them over,” his mother pointed out. “Most importantly, she makes you happy.”

“Wait, you punched Criston Cole? But I like him.”

“Of course you like him, Aegon.”

Your laughter rang out between the bickering, and you turned to catch Jace’s eyes, beaming at him. He smiled, ducking his head. God, he was so in love.

“Yeah.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: what are we thinking???

[rinhaler]

DEATH IS NO MORE !

you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k

As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.

You shouldn’t be here.

The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.

Is there a dress code?

That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.

The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.

You just couldn’t resist, this.

Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.

With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.

You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.

$100 for a ticket.

“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.

You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.

There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.

You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.

Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.

“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”

“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.

More like a warning.

“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.

You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.

The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.

There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.

Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.

And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.

A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.

The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.

As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.

But you scream.

Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.

Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.

Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.

There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.

He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.

“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.

“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.

It’s suffocating.

He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.

“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.

If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.

A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.

“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”

He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.

A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.

He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.

As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.

But you can’t.

Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.

“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.

“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.

“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.

“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.

He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.

You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.

He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.

“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”

“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.

“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.

He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.

Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.

“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”

“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”

“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”

“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.

“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”

“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.

But—

“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.

“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”

“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.

He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.

It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.

But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.

“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”

“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”

“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”

“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”

“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”

And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.

You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.

His arms almost cage you in.

Almost.

He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.

But you aren’t trying.

You’re just staring into his eye.

And he likes that.

“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”

“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.

“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.

He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.

You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.

Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.

“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.

Decide?

You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.

“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.

“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.

“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”

“You said you’ll win.”

He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.

“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”

“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”

“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”

“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”

“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.

You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.

But he does.

The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.

“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”

And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.

He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.

You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.

“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.

“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”

He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.

“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.

You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.

A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.

It’s art, here.

Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.

It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.

You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.

But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.

Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.

And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.

You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.

He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.

This fight… it was on a whim.

Was it just to impress you?

He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.

And why…

Why are you loving this?

You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.

If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.

Watch him forever.

You’re sick.

This is sick.

“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.

Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”

“D… Don—”

“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.

Oh, he’s been paid.

He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.

It’s his height, you realise.

It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.

“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”

“No.”

“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”

“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.

His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?

“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”

“N-No.”

“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”

You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.

“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.

“That’s none of your—”

“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”

“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.

Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.

Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.

He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.

“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”

“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.

“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”

The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.

A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.

“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”

“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.

He doesn’t respect you, though.

Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.

“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.

“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.

He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.

“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.

“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.

No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.

They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.

And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.

He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.

“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.

And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.

“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”

“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.

He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.

“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”

“Wha—?”

“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”

You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.

“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.

But he doesn’t pull anything out.

Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.

Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.

His money.

And it’s everywhere.

You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.

“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.

And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.

The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.

“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.

He's yours.

“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.

But you don’t care.

You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.

“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”

“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.

“Yes what?” he repeats.

“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”

“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”

“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.

“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”

Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.

But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.

“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”

Fuck, Megumi.

You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.

“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”

“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”

You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.

“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”

“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.

He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.

He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.

“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.

He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.

“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.

“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.

“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”

You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”

“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.

You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.

Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.

You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.

“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.

He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.

The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.

“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.

“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.

Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.

You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.

“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.

“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.

“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.

You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.

So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.

“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”

“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.

“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”

“Obviously not, Megumi.”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”

“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”

“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.

“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”

“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.

Just like the fighting.

And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.

“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.

“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”

“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.

You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.

“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.

“… love you too… bitch.”

© 2023 rinhaler

m.list | chapter two

[brunchable]

The Marriage Bet - Part Two

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Pregnant f!Reader

Themes/Warnings: Y/N in labor. Childbirth but NOT detailed, more focused on Bucky's presence and what he's doing.

Summary: How has a small bet lead to this? Y/N goes into labor and Bucky does everything he can to be as supportive as he could.

A/N: For those who asked for Part Two, this is for you ^_^ I hope it lived up to the expectations. . . I took inspiration from my own experience so yeah.

taggies: @rcarbo1 @ozwriterchick @mrsnikstan @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss

You roll your eyes as Bucky keeps a skeptical gaze on you, watching you step up and down on the curb for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Doll, you’ve been at this for days. I’m starting to think this kid’s staging a sit-in,” he teases, leaning against the lamppost, arms crossed.

“Well, she’s not paying rent, so she doesn’t get to stay. Curb walking is happening whether she likes it or not,” you snap back, determination lacing your tone as you continue stepping. But deep down, you’re tired, exhausted from trying to nudge your body into labor.

Bucky grins, but he still offers you a hand as you make your way back toward the house. “I’m just saying, if I see you out here tomorrow morning, I’m calling the National Guard.”

You elbow him lightly. “Very funny, Buck. This baby’s coming today. I can feel it.”

When you both step inside the house, Alpine is on you immediately, practically glued to your legs, rubbing her soft, fluffy body against your ankles more persistently than usual. You frown, looking down at her.

“What’s with you today, girl?” you ask, gently shooing her away with your foot. But instead of backing off like she normally does, Alpine meows loudly and circles you again, her tail brushing against your legs.

“Hey, come on. What’s going on with you?” you murmur, reaching down to pet her. But Alpine’s not interested in affection—at least, not her usual kind. She rubs harder against you, weaving in and out between your legs, forcing you to shuffle to avoid tripping.

“Bucky, I think Alpine’s lost it,” you call out, trying to step away from her. But she follows, her constant meowing beginning to sound like scolding. You can’t help but feel like she’s trying to tell you something.

Bucky, in the kitchen, is half-hidden in the fridge, rummaging around for something. “Maybe she’s just mad you’re about to replace her as the center of attention,” he quips, not looking up from his snack hunt.

“Yeah, well, she can wait her turn,” you mutter, trying to step around Alpine. But the cat is relentless. She rubs against your legs even harder, circling you tighter, her meows getting louder. You try to move, but she darts in front of you, making you stumble.

“Seriously, Alpine, what is going on?” you huff, trying to sidestep her again, but it’s no use. She’s practically glued to you, brushing her entire body against you, her eyes wide and focused as she continues her odd dance around your feet. You glance at Bucky, now distracted by Alpine’s odd behavior.

Bucky looks up, finally noticing how insistent the cat is. “You think she knows something we don’t?” he asks, his tone shifting from playful to curious. “Animals have instincts about this kind of stuff, right?”

Before you can respond, Alpine meows again, louder this time, and you feel a sudden, sharp tightening in your belly. You stop in your tracks, your hands immediately going to your abdomen as the pain intensifies.

“Ooo, ow!” you gasp, bending over slightly as the contraction tightens your entire stomach. “Bucky!”

Bucky’s head shoots up from the fridge like a missile, his eyes wide. “What?! What happened? Are you okay?!” he blurts, slamming the fridge door shut. He’s by your side in seconds, almost slipping in his haste. “Is it time? It’s time, isn’t it?! Oh god, okay, okay, breathe. Just breathe.”

You clutch the edge of the counter, nodding through the pain. “I think… I think it’s happening.”

Alpine, still rubbing against you, lets out another loud meow, as if confirming your suspicion. You glance down at her, and for a moment, it’s as if the cat knows exactly what’s going on. She gives a final rub against your legs before darting out of the way, clearing the space for Bucky to swoop in.

Bucky’s eyes go even wider. 

“Okay, okay, uh—hospital. We need to call the hospital.” He pulls out his phone, hands trembling slightly as he fumbles with the screen. He stabs at the screen with his thumb, almost dropping it in the process. “Where’s the number? Why don’t I have the number saved?!” he mutters to himself, glancing at you for reassurance as the line finally connects.

He paces as he talks to the hospital, his free hand anxiously running through his hair. “Yeah, hi, it’s… Y/N? Y/N Barnes? um, it’s happening. She’s in labor. What do we—what do I do? No, we’re at home, but we’re coming in—should we come in now? Or…? Okay. Okay, got it, yeah, we’ll head there in… five minutes? Yeah, five. Thanks.”

He hangs up, looking like he’s just run a marathon. “They said we can wait a bit until it gets stronger, but we can go now if you want. What do you wanna do?”

Before you can answer, another wave of pain washes over you, and you double over again, gripping the counter tighter. Alpine meows and brushes against your legs again as if trying to comfort you, her tail swishing with determination.

Bucky glances at Alpine, then back at you. 

“Okay, bath! I’ll run you a warm bath. That’s what they said, right? Warm bath to relax? Just—stay right here, doll. I’ll handle this.” He bolts off toward the bathroom, slipping slightly but catching himself at the last second.

You hear him turning on the water, his voice slightly frantic. “Warm bath, warm bath. I can do this. Where are the towels? Of course, we have towels. Focus, Bucky. Towels, water, perfect.”

You chuckle softly, despite the growing discomfort, glancing down at Alpine, who is now sitting by your feet, watching you intently with those big, bright eyes. 

“You knew, didn’t you?” you mutter, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. She purrs loudly, as if proud of herself.

A moment later, Bucky’s back, nearly tripping over Alpine as he rushes to your side. “Okay, bath’s ready. Nice and warm. Let’s get you in there before another one hits,” he says, gently taking your arm and guiding you toward the bathroom.

Alpine follows behind, meowing in approval as Bucky helps you into the tub. The warm water does wonders to ease the tension, but the contractions are still coming, and you know it won’t be long.

Bucky kneels beside the tub, his eyes wide with a mix of excitement and panic. “You okay? Should I call someone? Maybe I should recheck the bags. Oh, and snacks—I need to grab snacks.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You and your snacks, Bucky. We’ll be fine.”

Alpine, still close by, gives one final approving meow before curling up on the bathroom mat, keeping a watchful eye on both of you.

× × × × 

The car ride to the hospital was a blur—Bucky, in full mission mode, had one hand on the wheel and the other gripping yours as you breathed through each contraction. Every time you winced, his brow furrowed deeper, a mix of panic and determination on his face. Even as you swatted him away, insisting you didn’t need him hovering, he stayed glued to your side.

By the time you arrived at the hospital, Bucky had already called ahead, barking orders like he was leading a rescue mission. He parked the car, rushed around to your side, and had you in his arms before you could argue. 

“No hero moves, Buck, I can walk,” you huffed, trying to push through another contraction, but Bucky wasn’t hearing any of it.

“Not a chance. Just let me handle this, doll. I got you,” he said softly, the tenderness in his voice cutting through the pain.

Inside the hospital, Bucky was glued to you—holding your hand, rubbing your back, scratching your head soothingly, offering water. Every contraction, every wince, he was there, wide-eyed, on alert. He spoke to the doctors, double-checked every word they said, like he was memorising their instructions for later. He wouldn’t even blink unless he was sure you were okay.

“Bucky, I’m fine. You need to relax,” you grumbled between deep breaths, squeezing his hand through another wave of pain.

“I’m relaxed! This is me, relaxed!” he responded, his voice a little too high to be convincing. He had one hand on your back, rubbing gentle circles as if he could somehow ease the pain just by being there.

When another particularly strong contraction hit, making you groan in agony, Bucky’s face crumpled. He looked like he was ready to jump in and fight the pain for you only if he could. 

"You're sure you don't want the epidural?" he asked, glancing at you as another contraction hit, his face creased with concern. You could see the tension in his jaw, his helplessness in not being able to take the pain from you. “I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

“No. I am doing this my way, okay?!” You shook your head, gripping his hand as the pain intensified, your voice coming out in a growl. 

He let out a shaky laugh. "Okay, no epidural. Got it. But if you change your mind, I can threaten someone. I can be very convincing."

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but smile through gritted teeth. “Pretty sure the nurses don’t need to see the Winter Soldier just because I’m in labor.”

Bucky chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “Oh, come on. It’d make for a great story. I could throw my arm around, scare a few people… you know, just your typical Tuesday.”

Hours passed, and Bucky hadn’t moved from your side. He wouldn’t sit, wouldn’t close his eyes, despite you insisting—between contractions—that he at least take a nap. 

“You’re gonna fall over if you don’t get some rest,” you grumbled, squeezing his hand through another wave.

“Fall over? Pfft, I don’t need sleep. I’m like a machine.” He smiled, though his eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion. But every time you winced, his whole body tensed, as if he could feel the pain with you. “You, on the other hand, are doing amazing. I mean, you’re practically doing this like a walk in the park. The park of… childbirth.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-groan, resting your head back against the pillow. “That was terrible, Buck.”

He smiled wider. 

“Was it? C’mon, don’t lie to me. You were laughing inside.” He leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss against your temple. “I’m not leaving you.”

He looks at you with such fierce determination that you know there’s no convincing him otherwise. 

“Besides, I couldn’t sleep if I tried. What if you need something? Or what if you crack and ask for that epidural?” He smirks, trying to lighten the mood.

You roll your eyes at him, wincing as another contraction comes. Bucky’s immediately there, squeezing your hand, pressing his forehead to yours as you breathe together.

“I’m serious,” you mutter when the pain subsides, “you need sleep.”

Bucky grins, though his eyes are soft with affection. “Sleep? Who needs sleep? I’m living on love right now, doll. And adrenaline.” He winks at you, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “Who’s gonna be here to remind you how much of a badass you are?”

Despite the pain, you can’t help but laugh a little, which makes him smile even wider. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. 

“You know, this is probably a good time to tell you that you’re way stronger than me. I’d probably be begging for the epidural by now. And ice cream. Definitely ice cream.”

You snort, trying not to laugh too hard as another contraction builds. “Yeah, and I’d let you have the epidural just to shut you up.”

Bucky chuckles, but his smile fades as he watches you breathe through the pain again, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. 

He’s quiet for a moment, then softly whispers, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You look up at him through heavy breaths, your heart swelling at the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only person in the world. His thumb traces lazy circles on your hand, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You’re doing so good, doll. I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

When the contraction finally passed, you slumped back, exhausted. Bucky’s fingers brushed a stray piece of hair from your forehead, his touch light as a feather. 

“You want some ice chips? You want me to grab the doc again? Steal you another pillow? You name it, babe, and I’ll make it happen.”

Another contraction hit, and you groaned in pain, squeezing his hand hard enough to make him wince. But instead of complaining, he leaned down close, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial, “you’ve got the strength of ten supersoldiers right now. You could probably take me down with just one hand. Kinda sexy, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t help but snort through the pain, the corners of your mouth lifting despite the overwhelming sensation. “That’s… your idea of sexy?” you panted, trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Hey, I’ve always had a thing for strong women,” he teased, winking at you in that playful Bucky way, trying to distract you from the pain. “And you, sweetheart, are the strongest woman I know.”

Even though the pain was still there, the tension in your shoulders eased just a little.

“See, that’s what I’m here for,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the back of your hand as another contraction started building. “You focus on bringing our kid into the world, and I’ll keep trying to distract you with terrible jokes and my rugged good looks.”

“You’re lucky… I love you…” you muttered through the next wave of pain.

By the time the contractions were coming faster and more intense, Bucky was still right there, leaning close, murmuring encouragements. His fingers intertwined with yours, his other hand brushing through your hair as you worked through the pain. 

“You’re doing amazing, doll. We’re almost there. I’m right here.”

He didn’t sleep, didn’t sit, not even when you begged him to rest. His only focus was you, and every time your face twisted in pain, his own features mirrored it. But somehow, even in the toughest moments, he kept trying to make you smile, whispering about baby names, promising to make up for every second of pain with the biggest, most elaborate breakfast you could dream of. 

“We’ll get pancakes. Or waffles. Or pancakes and waffles. With ice cream. I’ll even eat kale if it’ll make you happy.”

When the doctor told you it was time, Bucky’s grip on your hand tightened, and for a moment, you expected to see that familiar flicker of panic in his eyes. But it never came. Somehow, in the face of what was about to happen, Bucky remained steady, his expression calm and resolute. He didn’t waver. His focus was entirely on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing strokes as you gathered the last of your strength.

The room bustled around you—nurses preparing, the doctor giving instructions—but it all seemed distant. The only thing grounding you was Bucky. His eyes never left yours, a silent strength radiating from him, as though he were willing to carry you through the final stretch. Every time the pressure built, every time the exhaustion weighed on you, Bucky was there, his presence unfazed, holding you steady as the moment grew closer.

Even as the intensity of labor reached its peak, he didn’t flinch. Not once. His grip remained firm but gentle, anchoring you in the chaos, his face composed, his breathing in sync with yours. He was there, unwavering, a rock against the storm. The room could’ve been crumbling around you, and Bucky wouldn’t have noticed.

His whole world was you.

Then, when the cry filled the room—the unmistakable sound of your baby’s first breath—it hit him like a tidal wave.

They placed her on your chest, and for a second, Bucky was still. He was looking at her—his daughter—for the very first time. His mouth opened slightly, and you saw his eyes widen in awe. His tough exterior began to crack, the strong front he had maintained throughout crumbling under the sheer weight of the moment.

Suddenly, Bucky turned away, almost abruptly, his shoulders shaking. He was crying. Ugly crying. His hand left yours for the first time as he tried to rub the tears away, his back to you as he choked on his emotions. But he wasn’t fooling anyone. You could hear the soft sniffles as he struggled to pull himself together.

It only lasted a moment before he spun back around, tears still streaming down his face, though he tried—so hard—to stop them. The sight of him, attempting to be tough through the tears, was endearing and, in its own way, a little bit funny. His face was red, his eyes puffy, and there was no mistaking the way his breath hitched as he looked at the baby resting on your chest.

He tried to smile through the sobs, wiping his face with the back of his hand, but every time he looked at her—tiny, perfect, and so much a part of both of you—the tears came again, harder this time. He was completely undone, staring at his daughter with a mixture of awe, joy, and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that she was here, real, and his.

And though Bucky was crying harder than ever, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his tears mingling with yours, both of you laughing at the raw, overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

He was a mess, but a happy mess—ugly crying through the most beautiful moment of your lives. And, despite it all, he never let go of your hand.

× × × × 

When you and Bucky finally stepped through the door of your home, the familiar scent of your place welcomed you back. It was strange being home with Julianna now, like the world had shifted but stayed the same. You glanced at Bucky, who was carrying the capsule carefully, his expression softer than usual.

Alpine was the first to greet you. As soon as the door opened, she trotted over, her tail swishing with curiosity. She stopped at your feet, looking up at both of you expectantly, as if asking, “So, what did you bring back?”

Bucky set the capsule down gently on the floor, his movements slow and careful.

“Look who’s here, Alpine,” he said, glancing down at the cat with a smile tugging at his lips. “We brought someone new.”

Alpine inched closer, her nose twitching as she inspected the carrier with cautious curiosity. Bucky crouched beside the capsule, lifting the cover slightly so the cat could get a closer look. Julianna stirred inside, her tiny face peaceful, nestled in blankets.

Alpine took a few tentative steps forward, her nose brushing against the edge of the blanket. She sniffed softly, clearly curious but cautious, still unsure about what exactly this new little human was.

Bucky smiled, watching Alpine for a moment before reaching down and gently lifting Julianna out of the capsule. He cradled her carefully in his arms, glancing at you for reassurance before holding her closer to Alpine.

“Come on, girl, get a good sniff. She’s your new sister.”

Alpine paused, her eyes wide as she leaned in to sniff Julianna’s soft, downy head. The cat's whiskers twitched, her nose brushing against the baby’s tiny forehead as she took in the new scent. Julianna stirred slightly, but her eyes stayed closed, her peaceful expression unchanged.

After a long, curious sniff, Alpine let out a soft, sweet meow as if giving her approval. Then, to your surprise, she rubbed herself affectionately against Bucky’s legs, purring gently, as if acknowledging that her place in the family was safe.

You watched the whole interaction, a warmth spreading through your chest. There was something sweetly funny about seeing this big, tough Bucky Barnes gingerly presenting his newborn daughter to a cat, as if it were some kind of sacred introduction.

Bucky chuckled, glancing down at Alpine as she rubbed against him again, her purring growing louder. “Looks like she approves of you too, kid,” he murmured to Julianna.

Satisfied with her inspection, Alpine backed up a few steps, her tail swishing lazily. She sat down nearby, watching with half-lidded eyes as if content that all was well in her world.

Bucky stood up carefully, cradling Julianna in his arms and grinning at you. “Looks like she passed the test,” he said, his voice soft, but with that usual Bucky charm. He glanced down at the baby, his eyes softening even more.

“Welcome home, Jules.”

× × × ×

Bonus scene: Flashback - A few months earlier…

You were lounging on the couch, feet propped up on Bucky’s lap as he absentmindedly massaged your ankles. A notebook was open on the coffee table in front of you, filled with scribbles of baby names. None of them felt right so far, and you were both at your wits’ end.

“Alright,” Bucky said, tapping his fingers on your leg, “we gotta figure this out. This kid’s gonna be here soon, and we can’t just call them ‘Hey, you.’” He gave you a crooked smile, but you could tell he was dead serious about the baby name situation.

You sighed, flipping through the pages of the notebook. “I know, but nothing seems to fit. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Bucky looked up thoughtfully, then suddenly grinned. “How about... Buck Jr.?”

You stared at him for a solid second, deadpan. “Buck Jr.? Really? What if it’s a girl?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Then... Buckletta.”

You burst out laughing, nearly kicking him in the stomach with the way your feet jerked. “Buckletta? Are you serious?”

Bucky shrugged with a smug grin. “Hey, it’s versatile. Buck Jr. for a boy, Buckletta for a girl. Easy.”

“I am not naming our child Buckletta!” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes from laughing so hard. “That sounds like a medieval torture device.”

Bucky smirked, leaning back on the couch. “Fine, fine. What about something... strong? Like, you know, a name that’s got some weight to it.”

“Okay, hit me with it,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

“Rock,” he said with confidence.

“Rock?” You blinked, wondering if he was messing with you, "Already with the Dad jokes?"

“Yeah! Think about it. No one’s gonna mess with a kid named Rock Barnes,” Bucky explained, grinning as if he had just come up with the best name in history. “It’s tough. It’s solid.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “We are not naming our baby after an inanimate object!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Really? But you like Ruby.”

“Ruby’s a gemstone, Bucky. It’s different,” you argued, trying to hold back a laugh.

He finally laughed along with you, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright! I'll stop. But we still need a real one, so...” He grabbed his phone back from you, scrolling through the list with a suspiciously mischievous look on his face. “Okay, let’s see... Princess Consuela Bananahammock?”

You smacked his arm, laughing again. “Are you picking names from Friends now?”

Shaking your head, you leaned over and grabbed the notebook, flipping to a clean page. “Okay, how about something more traditional? Like... Hazel for a girl?”

Bucky paused, his teasing smirk fading into something softer. “Hazel? I like that. It’s... nice.” He nodded thoughtfully, clearly warming to the idea.

“Yeah?” you smiled, glad that you’d finally stumbled onto something that wasn’t completely ridiculous.

“Yeah, Hazel’s good. But what about a boy’s name?” Bucky asked, shifting to a more serious tone.

You thought for a moment.

“What about James?” you suggested, giving him a knowing look.

He immediately shook his head. “No way. Too many bad memories tied to that name.”

You frowned, understanding. “Alright, then something classic but strong... like Julian?”

Bucky tilted his head, considering it. “Julian’s not bad. Strong, but not too over the top. I could see that.”

“And it works for a girl, too. Julianna,” you added with a smile.

Bucky’s face lit up. “Julianna Hazel Barnes.” He let the name roll off his tongue, testing it out. “That actually sounds really nice.”

You grinned, feeling like you were getting somewhere. “Right? It’s got a good flow.”

He nodded, then leaned back against the couch, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But seriously, you’re sure we’re ruling out Buckletta?”

You threw a pillow at his head, laughing. “Absolutely. 100% no to Buckletta.”

Bucky caught the pillow and chuckled. “Okay, okay, no Buckletta. But just so you know, if we ever get another cat, I’m naming her Buckletta.”

[r4spb3rr13s]

holds out my hands

greeting my mcbling angel

maybe i pretty please ask for shoto, iida and denki meeting their own mcbling hottie 🙏🙏🙏

- 🍥 anon

pro heroes meeting their mcbling gf

♱ todoroki, iida, kaminari

♱ pt.1 here pt.3 here

notes : ur too cute anon 🥰🥰

Shoto has been stood staring at his options for soba for the past ten minutes. He’s deep in decision, hand on chin, in the middle of the store just before closing.

So deep in thought, he’s completely oblivious to you strutting round the corner to the aisle he stood in.

You’re on your phone, moving by muscle memory. Your favourite noodles are always in the same spot, so your uggs lead you to where the soba is-

But you look up.

Shoto- your favourite pro hero, for reference- is stood like the motherfucking Thinker. In your presence.

You backpedal, but it’s too late- he’s seen you!

Shoto turns you to and his eyes widen. You’re in a neon pink graphic cami, big hoops hiding from beneath (locs/braids/curls/strands) and as his eyes trail down…

His cheeks go as pink as the thong peeking out your pants’ waistband. I mean, Shoto didn’t really have time to register your slack jaw.

There’s so much running through your head at the minute- who wears a black compression shirt to the store? How are his muscles bigger in real life than on billboards? Why does his hair look so soft?

He coughs and it breaks the moment.

“Oh- sorry, can I just-”

“Yeah, I apologise,” He replies. When you lean over to grab your noodles, a waft of sugary, almost sickly, perfume hits his nose. It was intoxicating- not in a bad way.

You’re trying to steady your breathing- he’s just another guy, Y/n, chill! Boys fall left and right for you, just breathe.

Breathe.

“You’re Shoto right?”

Ohmygodidiotidiotofcoursehe’sshotowhaythefuckyo-

“Yes, that’s me.” He smiles slightly, corners of his lips lifting. Every nerve in your body is screaming to swoon - maybe he’d catch your fainting body?

You could look into his gorgeous eyes, and he’d brush the hair from your face-

“Is everything alright?”

You snap out of your daydream and smile awkwardly. “Uh… I’m just a big fan, is all.”

He nods and smiles down at you, softly. You clear your throat and hoist your bag further up your shoulder.

“I like your clothes.”

Your world stops for a minute. How do you breath again? It’s not hard, Y/n, come on-

“Where did you get the inspiration?” He says. Shoto makes no move to leave - you’re not an annoying fan, begging for his autograph.

Plus, you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen.

You blink owlishly at him - his heart skips a beat, of course - and you just nod dumbly for a second. Then, it registers that he’s actually interested in you?

“Umm… 2000s stuff, American celebrities mainly. What about you?”

Shoto huffs a chuckle, “I don’t really have style.” He glances at his watch, and his smile morphs into a… pout? It’s subtle, but his brows furrow ever-so-slightly, and his bottom lip just out a little bit.

“Oh God, don’t let me keep you,” You hurry. Good lord, your face is burning up aggressively.

He shakes his head, but bites his lip still looking at his watch. “No, I’m on shift soon… it was nice meeting you…?”

“Oh, Y/n!”

Shoto smiles again, glances at his watch with an internal frustrated groan. He needed more time to talk to you, to understand you, to get to the bottom of the neon pink and leopard print-

Oh, right.

“Could I get your number, Y/n?”

:::

Tenya spent his nights going on walks. Why? Because he liked to meet his neighbours’ dogs… did he know that’s why he liked them, however? No. He just thought walking around gave him immense joy for no reason.

And they call him ‘smart’.

His favourite dogs were the least of worries when he walked past the park and heard shouting.

Tenya’s head snapped to, and he was marching through the park gates.

You, a grown woman, were stood on a table, wafting away… chihuahuas. You, in a tiny denim skirt and a babydoll top, were using your small purse to shoo away a trio of stray chihuahuas.

In all fairness, Tenya disliked chihuahuas the most of all the dogs he’d met, but he’s never seen someone in platform sneakers clamber onto a picnic bench to get away from them. Or scream at the top of their lungs at the tiny puppies.

He could not help but let out a laugh at the sight, making you look up at him. You straightened up a bit and stopped screaming, but still sounded shaky.

“You’re that hero right?”

“My name is Ingenium, yes,” he replied. One of the rat-dogs had turned to growl at him now, but Tenya paid no mind to it.

You pointed at the dogs. “Could you… y’know, be a hero and save me?”

He raised a brow without meaning to. He shouldn’t be judging you for your fears - he’s a hero! Here to help everyone!

But still… three tiny dogs?

He sighed and nodded. Suddenly, all three dogs were in his arms, and being carried towards the kid’s sandbox. He paid no mind to them nipping and jumping up- not like they could escape his large forearms.

Large firearms that you were looking at with much interest…

He returned, ignoring the yapping puppies trying to escape the gates, but not being tall enough to get out. “I’ll call animal control, Miss…”

“Oh, just call me Y/n. What should I call you?” You asked, taking his hand and stepping down.

Tenya tried to ignore how small your hand was in his, or how your skirt hitched up your thighs when you stepped down. Instead, he helped you stand upright on your wobbly legs, and pushed down his blush when you thanked him.

“Iida. Tenya Iida.”

You looked him up and down. Tenya Iida was tall, broader than a fridge and had glasses you desperately wanted to push up his nose for him.

“Well, Tenya Iida… can I take you out for a drink to thank you?”

Tenya froze and he couldn’t stop the red that stretched across his face at your question. But he nodded. But it was so unprofessional! A true hero would never use a victim’s position to their advantage, the power imbalance was-

“I’ll need your number then!” You sang out.

Tenya’s internal protests were lost as he passed you his phone, and you type in your digits with your long, zebra print nails.

:::

Now, Denki has met a few of Mina’s friends. They were all… nice. He flirted casually, maybe exchanging numbers with them, but they never ended up getting a call.

So when Mina announced she was bringing ‘fresh meat’ to their group’s monthly reunion, he didn’t really prepare himself for much.

Then, you walked in.

All giggles, sparkly black eyeshadow and lipgloss. Mina was whispering in your ear before strutting you through the doorway, but Denki was more focused on your shiny lips curling up into a grin.

A black tube top held you in, pink bikini straps wrapping around the back of your neck. His eyes travelled down- shamelessly, might I add- to the leggings hugging your curves. ‘PINK’ written on your ass caught his attention like a siren, and your matching hot pink toes from your sandals didn’t help either.

“This is Y/n!”

Katsuki and Eijiro barely looked up, immersed in an aggressive game of … cards, or something - Denki was not paying attention to them. He was, however, paying keen attention to the once-over Hanta gave you.

Mina grabbed your bangled-wrist and tugged you to sit with her between the two boys.

The unmistakeable scent of sugar and apples wafted over his face when you sat down. You shot him a big, toothy grin and Denki thought he was going to short-circuit right there-

He didn’t realise he actually was letting off electricity until he watched your hair stand on end.

“What the…” You tried to pat your hair down, while Mina cackled behind you. The pink woman draped an arm around your shoulder.

“Aww, Denki’s all nervous! Look at him!”

You stopped focusing on your hair and looked at the man next to you. Lean, tan and blushing furiously. He was, in truth, letting sparks fly off him like a faulty wire.

You chuckled, “You alright?”

Denki did not know what to do. You were staring at him with a cheeky smile, eyes wide and soft, and his friends were laughing and pointing at him behind you.

“Yes.” It was the only word the poor boy could get out. You snorted at him and rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone.

He watched with wide eyes as you grabbed his hand but you pulled back for a minute when he shocked you.

“Shit- sorry-”

“Just put your number in my phone, okay?”

You held out the device in your hand with a cocky grin.

Mina had to usher him to another room to calm down before he blew your phone up in his hand by accident….

note: pls shoto is so OOC IDFK HOW TO WRITE HIM 😭

[princessbrunette]

basketball!rafe knew he needed you the moment he set eyes on you once more in that hotel bar.

personally, you thought he might’ve been a nobody on first glance. a really handsome nobody, so he couldn’t have actually been a nobody — but it was the intrigue that drew you in regardless. to set the scene, you didn’t have to go far to find him, no — this was the fanciest hotel in your hometown and you were there alone. something about getting all dressed up and then your friends cancelling last minute, it didn’t matter — it felt like so long ago that you’d forgotten all about it. all you remember was seeing the handsome nobody in a t-shirt and a cap strolling up to the bar.

it was only after doing a double take, you realised the nobody was rafe cameron.

now you’d already known rafe from the obx. distantly, of course — a couple of parties here and there, some lingering glances when you were convinced he was a fuck boy. he was apparently a little unhinged back in the day, but after his dad died he fixed his shit and went pro with basketball, making it big. like mentioned, you weren’t friends, merely acquaintances with the boy a couple of years your senior— but he’d always been someone you saw get their shit together and think, you know what? good for him i guess.

now rafe remembers his history with you differently. apparently, he used to shoot hoops with your older brother in your backyard with a few other friends back when they were younger. still a casual hobby for rafe, and playing it anywhere else but a kook’s backyard might’ve looked too poguey for him to be caught partaking in. at the end of the day, golf was meant to be his sport. it was fitting and low maintenance. basketball took the cake everytime however— helping him mentally in more ways than anyone could imagine.

anyway, he remembers you — a lot younger than you are now, flip flops slapping along the patio as you arrive on destination — mouthing off to your big brother about bouncing the ball too loudly off your wall or spending all the money your mother had left for pizza on the counter. you were this tiny mouthy weapon, even having the infamous rafe cameron snickering down at his shoes as your brother whined back at you, trying to shoo you back inside. he recalls even catching a couple of strays, your shrill youthful voice referring to the eldest cameron as a ‘lanky meathead’.

“jesus, you gotta keep your sisters mouth in check dude. gonna grow up n’get her in trouble n’shit.” he’d shake his head as you’d waddle back inside, bouncing the ball and shooting. after that it was just parties as you grew up, seeing a familiar pretty face through a coked out haze and thinking ‘who’s that again?’ in passing or overhearing you talking to your friends, still carrying that same slick mouth that you only got away with because you were so hot.

only now, he’s staring across this dimly lit hotel bar, the first time in a while that he’d been back in his hometown and there you are — staring back at him, a face he’d never forget except you’re all grown up now— practically spilling out that slinky little dress and acting as a magnet, his feet dragging him over to you before his drink had even arrived from the bartender.

not even five minutes into conversation and it’s abundantly clear that you’re still that spoiled little cheerleader he knew once upon a time, only this time you’re tilting your head to the side with your brows furrowed in confusion that bordered on disinterest when he tried to explain what happened in his most recent game. you weren’t here to talk about that and it showed, leaning over your margarita to adjust his expensive looking chain, pulling it to sit above his tshirt instead of tucked beneath, cutting him off to question “so you knew my brother, right?” he liked that directness about you. the fact you kinda seemed like a bitch. it was a challenge, the urge to tame and rough someone up still very much sat at the surface of his wants and desires.

once a spoiled brat — always a spoiled brat, only now you’re his spoiled brat six months later, clinging to his arm and digging your manicure into his bicep with a whine as a silent command for him to magically vanish any of the surrounding paparazzi outside the airport.

“get rid of them.” you eventually mewl, in a demanding way that represented the physical embodiment of you stomping your pedicured foot.

“you think i fuckin’ want them here?” he sighs, no stranger to your ridiculous requests. that’s what was so intoxicating about your relationship — yes you were a little bitch sometimes, but he learnt how was best to put you in your place. most of the time you were happy, fucked and fed with racks upon racks sat in your expensive handbag, clinging to him and tottering along at his side in heels that cost an arm and a leg— but the times you were snarking up at him, telling him to ‘shut the fuck up’ he was more than happy to grab your throat and ask “the fuck are you talking to like that, huh?” which oddly would cause a smile to emerge on your face and the attitude to melt off you for an hour or so.

that being said, you kept him in check too. now rafe wasn’t like he always was — unhinged, explosive and overall angry at the world. no, he had an access to therapy now and basketball worked for a good outlet of his frustrations, all whilst opening up a new world for him to get his fresh start away from all that family bullshit he had to put up with a while back (cut them all off, minus wheezie who he sends money to every month and facetimes to talk shit.) that being said — he would be the one to catch an attitude out of the blue sometimes, which was often remedied by a sharp eyebrow raise from you, a dramatic head swivel and a “you better fucking talk to me nice, rafe cameron. not one of your fucking fan girls.”

with a tongue in his cheek, he’ll shake his head and drop the whole thing — but not without saying “y’know you run your mouth like you’re six foot four with two pistols tucked sometimes. shit.”

life outside of your relationship with rafe became a dream all because of him. quickly, as rafe skyrockets to success in the basketball world, you’re skyrocketing to being the top pinterest muse— starring in every girls ‘future manifestation’ moodboard with snaps of you courtside in your pretty little outfits cheering on your boyfriend. you were glammed to the nines at every game, because you knew you’d end up on that big screen one way or another.

when travelling with rafe for his tournaments, you’d get the princess treatment you deserved and that was a promise. designer shoes, designer bags, steak meals that cost the same as your house back home and you were not poor by any stretch of the word. he liked to flaunt you, flaunt his success. he was the man now, like he’d always wanted to be — and effortlessly so, not the charade he was putting on back at tanny hill throwing those parties whilst suffering on the sly. no, he had everything now— and was happy to share that with you. you didn’t have to do much to gain this treatment, no. holding him down was enough, but he’d be happy to accept your payment of gratitude in having his cock wedged down your throat in the limo back to the hotel, ending the night on your back with your ankles on his shoulders and that same chain you fiddled with when you first reunited swinging in your face.

it was no secret that the two of you fucked. it made up a good 60% of your free time together, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. rafe could still get very frustrated — with his manager, with his teammates, with people from his past cropping up, even with the general public who had opinions on his playing — and with that, what better way to pound out some frustrations then by bending you over a balcony in a foreign country? rafe had a good team behind him, and luckily so — because it wouldn’t be the first time a hotel had attempted to get the two of you blacklisted for causing too much of a noise disturbance, notes pinned to your door found in the morning reading ‘Dear guests, whilst we are thrilled that you are enjoying our hotel, we please ask that you keep it down for the sake of the other guests. To remind you, other guests do not need to hear your lovemaking through the night! If this continues throughout your stay you will be asked to leave.’

your basketball player boyfriend would pluck the note off the door the next morning when you’re leaving together for the day, your sleepy self tucked under the arm of his hoodie covering his jersey as he scoffs, handing it your way carelessly. “pussies. they can’t do shit about it.”

unstoppably so, despite your hate for gossip past being in high school the notes would turn to blind items as rafe truly came into the public eye. you couldn’t scroll three videos on tiktok without hearing ‘this north carolina basketball player and hometown it girl may have come into hot water again at this famous vegas hotel after making sure their wall neighbours heard the ins and outs of their passion — april 27th, crazy days and nights.’ that, or the blogosphere getting ahold of the blurry and ambiguous paparazzi shots taken of you supposedly ‘getting it on’ on the beach.

unfortunately, this public knowledge that the two of you were real fuckers was not enough for twitter, which resulted in your first leaked video.

rafe should have known to be careful when the two of you in a lustful haze filmed an amateur tape the day before you had to fly home for a little while, the basketball player knowing he’d miss being in it and needed some material to work off whilst you were gone.

the video was 1 minute and 49 seconds of pure glory. filmed on landscape with an outstretched arm rafe captures you, whining and mewling as you roll your hips on his lap, bouncing on his cock as he watches the two of you through the screen, swollen lips parting and tongue flattening to catch your nipple as you do so. he grips your ass hungrily, aiding you on fucking down on him before delivering a firm smack to your ass that makes you jolt, only unlatching his mouth from your tit to grumble out “s’what i’m fuckin’ talking about baby. who’s your daddy, huh?” looking up at you from your needy spread out position.

you still recall the way your heart dropped into your ass seeing your name along side rafes in the trending tab, following by the words ‘leaked video’.

your legal teams were all over it instantly, working hard to get it shut down off every site it had been reuploaded and desperately attempting to track down whoever had managed to get into your boyfriends cloud to expose it— a couple weeks of watching paparazzi shots of rafe taking calls outside buildings, yelling down the phone and flipping off the cameras in moments of frustration and stress — for him to then be on the phone to you from a hotel room later that night, talking you down as you cry like a baby and complain.

“i know, i know alright i’m workin’ on it. gonna get that shit wiped from the net i can promise you that now, i got the guy who can make it happen for me. but for now, look y’know there’s — there’s nothin’ i can do alright, i can’t make people fuckin’… unsee that shit unfortunately just be glad you look so sexy in the video cause — okay, shit, the hell are you yelling for? m’just tryna help—”

after a while it does infact die down, and the video can no longer be found — yes, even on the shitty pop up porn sites that had reposted it with twelve watermarks in the worst quality. however, it didn’t stop jaded basketball fans from bringing it up any chance they got — getting in heated debates online and using it as an insult to the cameron boys playing skills. god forbid a rafe fan would speak up for him after a particularly poor game, his mentions getting filled with nothing but a screenshot of your boyfriend with your titty in his mouth.

though it had faded, the two of you learned that there was no way around it than to humour it — your boyfriend barely addressing the tape by quoting it in his instagram caption after one of his big wins, the post of him grinning on the court with his trophy tilted ‘who’s your daddy, huh?’ which of course, sent twitter into a spiral.

[harunayuuka2060]

Lilia: Oh dear...

MC: *accidentally shot Idia's tablet while practicing their magic*

MC: ...

Lilia: *tries to lighten up the mood* I’m sure Idia has plenty of gadgets to use. This shouldn’t be a big issue.

MC: I should go apologize.

Lilia: How are you planning to do that? Idia dislikes being approached, so he'll just run away if you try.

MC: I'll just sneak up on him then.

Lilia: ...

Lilia: Pft- *laughs*

MC: Pépé?

Lilia: *amused smirk* Oh I would love to see that.

Idia: Seriously...

Idia: How can someone be so careless?

Ortho: Honestly, it was pretty amazing that they could shoot from that distance.

Idia: I liked them more when they were just an ordinary, magicless human. Now they break things like Malleus does.

Ortho: It was unintentional.

Idia: Yeah, I know.

Ortho: Hm?

Idia: What is it, Ortho?

Ortho: It's them. They've come to visit.

Idia: Huh?! No, no! Shoo them away!

Ortho: ...

MC: *who's already standing behind Idia*

Idia: Ortho! What are you still waiting for?!

Ortho: ...

Ortho: *smiles* Welcome, MC!

MC: *smiles back* Thank you.

Idia: !!!

Idia: *fainted from shock*

Ortho: Are you here to return my brother's tablet?

MC: Oh, yes. I’m sorry for breaking it.

Ortho: *giggles* It's fine. Anyway, I’m impressed by how you avoided our alarms.

MC: Lilia mentioned that he would run away if I made my presence known.

Ortho: That’s true, but I’d recommend ambushing him next time.

MC: ...

MC: Wouldn't that be mean?

Ortho: Yes, but he needs to learn to interact with his peers.

MC: I see.

Ortho: Oh! Did you know? My brother loves your SDC performance!

Ortho: He said you looked like you came straight out of an otome game!

MC: *smiles* That's quite nice of him.

Idia: *has regained consciousness but chose to pretend to be asleep*

Idia: Ortho...

Lilia: What did Idia say?

MC: He pretended to be asleep the whole time, so I ended up just talking to Ortho. He told me not to worry about the tablet.

Lilia: Ooh! That's great!

MC: ...

MC: Pépé, something's been bothering me since I met Ortho.

Lilia: Hm? What is it, dear?

MC: Has technology in Twisted Wonderland advanced so much that an android humanoid could contain a human soul?

Lilia: ...

Lilia: Pardon?

[hazelfoureyes]

Someone nice, Somewhere safe

Angel x Virgin Female Reader

જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*

*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 

You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.

.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>

listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  

minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)

You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.

Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”

 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”

“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”

All of the blood rushed to your face.

“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 

What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?

He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”

His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.

“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.

“Does that happen often?”

“Never.”

“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.

Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.

“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.

“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.

“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”

His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”

You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.

“Do you wanna?”

You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”

Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”

“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.

“It’s perfect, Angel.”

“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.

Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.

“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.

You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.

“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”

“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.

With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”

Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?

You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.

“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.

You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.

With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.

He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.

“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”

“Not really. Not like, there.”

“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.

“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.

Ah, the towel. That made sense now.

“Should I do something?”

“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”

You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”

“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.

You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”

Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.

His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.

At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.

His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”

“Atleast??” You shook your head.

“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.

It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.

Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?

“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.

You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”

Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.

You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.

“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.

He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.

“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.

You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 

“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.

“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.

You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.

Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.

You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.

“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again. 

One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.

He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”

“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.

His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.

“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”

Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 

“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.

“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”

A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.

“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”

“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.

He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.

You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”

“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.

He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 

You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.

“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.

You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.

He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 

“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach. 

Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.

Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm. 

“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.

"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.

He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.

“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.

“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.

He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.

Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”

You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”

“Right answer, toots,”  One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”

You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.

༻Masterlist༺

[coldfanbou]

Waking Up To Something

A little Dubu for you all. She's very sweet here. Also you have no idea how hard it was to go against the slutty student Dubu thoughts that kept creeping in.

Length 2.6K

Dahyun X Mreader

“Wake up! What are you doing? Hurry!” Groggily opening your eyes, you look to the side, and Dahyun shakes you. “We have school! Wake up!”  You try to wave Dahyun off, but she refuses to let you return to your peaceful slumber. Dahyun huffs, seeing that you won’t get up. She straddles you and grabs your shoulders as she shakes you back and forth. “We don’t have time for this!” She whines.

“Mmm, fine.” You grumble, finally sitting up. You shut your eyes for a moment, still sleepy. You feel Dahyun’s weight move off you, and when you open your eyes again, she grabs your clothes from your closet. You look her up and down, seeing her in her school uniform. That’s when you remember that today was the first day of school. With a burst of energy, you get up and shoo Dahyun out of the room, pushing her out while grabbing your pants from her hands.

“Hey!”

“No time; we have school,” you tell her as you rush to put on your uniform. 

Dahyun pounds on the door, “That’s what I tried to tell you!” The door stops shaking, and you hear Dahyun walk away. You finish getting dressed and grab your things before rushing to the front. Dahyun is anxiously tapping her feet, staring at the clock hanging on the far wall. Noticing that you finally came down, she jumps to her feet and grabs your hand, rushing you both out the door and to school. “We’re going to be so late because of you!” She shouts, running as fast as she can. “It’s our first day back, and we’re going to be late!” She says, looking over her shoulder at you, her frustration evident in her voice.

“You could have gone without me!” You shout back, picking up speed and running past her. You grab Dahyun’s hand; it’s her turn to be dragged around. 

“You wouldn’t even know today was the first day if I hadn’t come!” Dahyun tries to keep pace with you, her backpack swinging from side to side. 

“You’re going to slow!” You slow down, waiting for Dahyun to pass you. You pick her up as soon as she does, carrying her bridal style as you continue your mad dash to school. Dahyun smacks you before covering her eyes, embarrassed to be carried around like this. You make it to school and run to your classroom with Dahyun, the bell ringing just before you enter. Both you and Dahyun hang your heads in defeat as the teacher calls you out for being late, but there's also a sense of relief that you made it. Taking your seat next to Dahyun, she quietly scolds you for not waking up earlier. 

During lunch, Dahyun continues, “You do this every year. You don’t realize it's the first day, and we end up coming in late.”

“I told you. You don’t have to wake me up.”

“I do; that’s what a friend does.” Dahyun retorts. “We’ve been friends for years, and you just don’t learn. What do I have to do live with you?” There’s frustration in her voice. You know what you have to do to calm her down. You pull a small piece of chocolate from your pocket and hand it to her. “That’s not enough. I need more,” Dahyun says, staring at you.

“Seriously?” By the look in her eye, she is more than serious. You grab another piece and hand it to her. Dahyun smirks as she unwraps one of the chocolate pieces, munching on it with a big smile. 

“You know what? I’ve decided. I’m going to live with you now. Our parents will be completely fine with it. We’ve known each other for years, after all.” 

“I really don’t want that.” 

“Too bad,” Dahyun says, eating the second chocolate. As the bell rings for the end of lunch, the two of you head back to class. 

At the end of the day, you return home together. You walk into your home, and Dahyun into hers. A few hours go by before you hear the sound of something rolling into the house. As you come downstairs, you see Dahyun with her parents and a couple of suitcases. “You can’t be serious,” you say to her.

“I told you,” she replies. You all sit down and have a conversation, and your parents agree to let Dahyun sleep in the spare room. Dahyun nudges your leg. “I’ll make lots of noise in the morning, so you have to wake up,” she whispers. You don’t feel happy about having Dahyun live with you, thinking of it as unnecessary. 

The first week of living with Dahyun went well enough. It felt odd, but you thought you would get used to it. One morning, you woke up early.  You head to the bathroom, still tired and barely aware of the world around you. Dahyun was on the other side of the bathroom door. You both stood there for a moment, not moving. Your eyes are glued to her body for those few seconds. They move up her body, her pale skin still dripping with the water from her shower. You pass over her pink cunt; with her pale skin, it stands out. As do her nipples that stood at attention, stiff from the room’s cold air. You were getting hard, and Dahyun noticed. The few seconds you had to look at her body ran out. Dahyun covered her body with a towel, and you shut the door, staying on the outside. You told Dahyun how sorry you were before heading to your room.

The rest of the day was awkward between you. When you returned home, Dahyun went straight to her room, not saying a word to you. That night, though, she came to your room, knocking quietly on the door. “Come in,” she said. 

Dahyun opened the door slowly, walking inside without a word and sitting on your bed. Silence reigns over you both. Neither of you wants to say the first word. Then you both speak at once, and you give Dahyun the chance to speak. “I want to talk about this morning.” You nod along, knowing it was a conversation you needed to have. You apologize to Dahyun again and let her continue. “I…noticed that…” Dahyun mulls over her thoughts, clasping her hands together as she figures out what to say. “This isn’t how I wanted to do it, but I feel like I have to.” Dahyun turns to face you. “I like you… romantically.” You’re stunned and confused because you thought Dahyun would never be interested in you like that. Dahyun taps her hands along her leg, taking a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for a long time now, to be honest. It’s the reason I put up with you.” Dahyun says, a nervous smile growing on her. “ I-look, I forgive you for walking in on me this morning. I just want to get even, so you should show me your cock.” She said in a half-joking tone. You could tell Dahyun was trying to avoid the real conversation.

You stand up, stripping naked in front of Dahyun without a word before sitting back down. You notice Dahyun’s body tense up. It’s odd being nude in front of Dahyun, unnatural, but you chose to do it so you could continue without her holding anything against you. As ridiculous as that may sound, it made sense to you, considering you know Dahyun would try to keep the conversation going at that point. “You love me, Dahyun?”

She stumbles over her words; Dahyun is in complete shock that you are naked in front of her. She couldn’t help but look at your cock. Her eyes wander back to it no matter how many times she pries her eyes away. She gives you a nod, gulping as she tries to focus on something else. “I, um, please put your clothes back on. I can’t talk to you otherwise.” Dahyun blurts out, turning her head. You cloth yourself, telling Dahyun she can look. Seeing you fully clothed, Dahyun takes a deep breath. “Okay, now I can talk. I do love you, and I don’t know; after you saw me naked, I sort of felt like I had to confess. I noticed that you got hard, d-did you like my body?” You nod, feeling the heat rush to your face and getting too embarrassed to speak. “I thought so, but it’s not the only reason you like me, right?”

“Dahyun, this is the first time I’ve seen it.” You smack the top of her head lightly. “Of course not. I like you for you, you goofball. Honestly, I never thought you liked me like that. I don’t know where to go from here. What should we do?” 

Dahyun scoots closer, taking your hand in hers. She stares into your eyes, gathering her courage. Silently, she leans in and presses her lips against yours. It feels right, and you both fill it with passion. You push forward, knocking Dahyun onto her back as your kiss continues. She hesitantly wraps her hands around your neck, holding you close as your hands wander to her waist. When you run out of breath, you break the kiss. Your room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. Dahyun gulps, bringing herself up for another kiss. “We can go all the way if you want. I trust you.” 

“Are you sure?”

Dahyun nods, a soft smile on her face, “I want you. I want to be with you.” Dahyun moves her hand to her shirt, unbuttoning her pajamas slowly as you remain over her. As the last button slips away, she pulls her shirt apart to reveal her upper body. Seeing your eyes stick to her chest, Dahyun smiles and feels more confident. You lean down, getting closer to her chest. You plant tiny kisses on her mounds; they make Dahyun shudder. She turns her head to the side, making her gasps known before shutting her eyes. Dahyun focuses on the sensations, ingraining in her memory the feel of your hands on her breasts, the way you’re circling her nipple with your thumb. She bites her lip, enjoying the pleasure. 

You stop in your tracks, staring at Dahyun until she opens her eyes. “Why did you stop.”

“I want to know if you really want this.”

Dahyun feels her heart about to beat out of her chest. She wishes you hadn’t asked that question; putting her on the spot scared her as if she was about to make a leap of faith. “I’m sure,” she says softly. Dahyun reaches down, lifting her hips off the bed as beginning to pull off her pajama pants. You help Dahyun, pulling them completely off her. 

The sight of a beautiful woman, much less Dahyun, in your bed, was something you wouldn’t have thought would happen at the beginning of the day, but here she was. She’s left solely in her panties, a pink pair that suited her well. There was a wet spot on them. Dahyun covers her face as you pull her panties down, her heart racing as she bares her body to you again. 

You strip down before climbing over Dahyun. The soft fragrance of her perfume hits you as you stare at her body. You take in every detail, leaving nothing amiss as you grab her thighs and move them further apart. Hesitantly, you rub your between her wet folds, coating it in her nectar. Dahyun grabs one of your pillows, moaning into it. You take the pillow from her, tossing it to the side before cupping her cheeks and kissing her again. Her eyes flutter, and she mutters, “I love you.” You prepare yourself taking a deep breath as you press your cock against her entrance. You look into her eyes as you push in. You take her hands, holding them as you slowly move in; her walls squeeze your cock. You grunt and groan as you bury yourself inside Dahyun. She gasps, feeling you inside her. Dahyun wraps her legs around your waist. “I don’t want you pulling out,” she moans. 

Dahyun wraps her arms around you, holding you against her as you begin moving. Dahyun feels you move; your cock hits deep, making her cry out. Your thrusts begin slow, allowing her to adjust before gaining speed. Soon, you were pistoning in and out of Dahyun, chasing your orgasm. Dahyun bites her lips, trying to stay quiet. “Kiss me, please,” she whines. 

You give her as much, pressing your lips against hers and letting her moan into it. Her walls squeezed you, and you felt her nipples grow hard as they rubbed against your chest. You squeeze her soft thighs, feeling the plump flesh rebound as you move your hands to her breasts. You’re both quickly approaching your climax; your constant thrusts make Dahyun whimper, and her nails dig into your back. You hold the kiss, keeping her cry muffled as your walls clamp down on your cock. The pleasure becomes unbearable, and you find yourself cumming inside Dahyun as she pushes you in deeper with her legs. 

Her walls milk you, coaxing your cum out and funneling it into her womb. When Dahyun’s voice grows quiet, you break the kiss. “You came inside me,” she says with a smile. Dahyun caresses your cheek, a tired look on her face. Too tired to continue, you lay your head on her chest, drifting off to sleep along while still inside her. 

You wake the following morning to the sounds of someone slurping. As you look down at your body, you see Dahyun between her legs, bobbing her head. You let out a moan, signaling to her that you were awake. She pulls back, stroking your shaft with her soft hand, “Good morning, sleepyhead. We have school soon, so you better hurry up.”

“What are you doing?” You ask, enjoying how her hand moves along your shaft.

Dahyun looks down, shy and embarrassed. “I thought you would want me to wake you up like this instead. It’s what a girlfriend would do, right?” Dahyun is looking for approval and a way to mask her desires. 

You play along, nodding. “Yeah, thanks, Dahyun. This is a lot better than shaking me awake.” Dahyun smiles at you and bends over, wrapping her lips around your cock, her tongue clumsily swirling around the tip. She bobs her head slightly, unable to take much in without gagging. Still, it feels good; her warm mouth and tongue bring you to your climax, and you cum. The first few shots hit her tongue and take Dahyun by surprise. She recoils, allowing the last few to spurt onto her face and chest. The sight of Dahyun soiled with your cum arouses you and gets you hard again. 

Dahyun looks down, noticing your cock is still hard. She sighs, but as her eyes meet yours, she smiles. “Be quick, okay?” She says, turning around and raising her ass to you.  When you don’t immediately take her, Dahyun looks over her shoulder.“I want to try this position, okay?” She says hurriedly before burying her face into the bed. You don’t question it, smacking her ass before taking her. When you finished, there was barely time to make it to school, and you ended up coming in late again. At lunch, Dahyun criticizes you much like the first day, but she comes around at the end. “You’re lucky I really enjoy it too, or I would threaten to not have sex with you anymore. Let’s just start earlier.” She says quietly, grabbing onto your hand and holding it tightly. 

“That’s fine by me, but you need to be quiet unless you want our parents to find out.” Dahyun smacks your chest.

“Don’t say that!” She shouts. After a minute, Dahyun grumbles, “We’ll have to tell them we’re dating soon anyway. Dating…” Dahyun contemplates the word for a second, a smile growing on her face as she turns to face you. She kisses your cheek softly, “Still, it’s really nice. The sound of it, I mean.”