#jealous-ish five

[songmingisthighs]

My, My, Mine

group : ateez

pairing : jealous, dom!san × reader

genre : smut, pwp, requested

wc : 3.6 k

warning : mdni, possessive!san, mentions of patriarchal upbringing, san trying to exert his dominance in the relationship, san calling mc basically slutty or a hoe but not in those words, drunken sex (so maybe kinda dubcon-ish ??? is it ??), explicit sex (bondage, denied orgasm, sadism ?? idk man, san being a meanie, mc being whiny despite g0rl power, slight dacryphilia ?? big man likes whiny crybabies, multiple orgasm, degradation, filming while having sex (you've been warned), creampie, and more idk i can't list all of them but if you think i should list more as like warning, please lmk !)

a/n : idt i've written any san smut (other than the debauchery that was ignominy) so I'm excited for this request ! i had this in my wip for quite a while and I'm FINALLY finishing it !!!

a/a/n : sorry this took a while, I had to get in the right mood for this lmaooooo hope you enjoy it !

a/a/a/n : ALSO HAPPY SANI DAY !!!

buy me coffee ?

It hadn't been that long since you and San started dating and it was quite the adjustment.

On one hand, you loved him dearly, he and all of his adorable quirks. But San, as he was raised quite conservatively by a strong, patriarchal figure, had managed to show some of the traits. Sure, you could get used to having things paid for you despite it making you feel like a burden, but having to argue with San in public when he insisted that he should be the one carrying all of your things or even waiting for you at your office's lobby when he's available so he'd be able to accompany you home was not something you like. So you both adjusted. Or tried to.

You didn't realize the extent of his views until you went to a girls' night.

During the whole time, San kept texting you about your whereabouts, reminding you not to drink too much. You'd answer once or twice but for every answer you gave, he sent five more texts and it was getting rather annoying. You realized he meant well but the way he was doing it was making it seem like he thought you were an incapable idiot who was going to need him, your knight in shining armour, to rescue you from the bad bad men of this world. You had gone through life just fine without him before and you were not some dumbass.

The realization that the alcohol in your system was stirring your emotions should have been enough to get you to sober up especially knowing that San was staying over to take care of you (a compromise you begrudgingly accepted). But your friends were egging you on and you knew that you didn't want to face San without some liquid courage. It was high time you took him down a peg. Or peg him down. Whichever comes first.

"Honey, I'm home," you slurred, giggling when you got through your front door and started taking off your shoes.

There were shuffles and soon San's voice rang through your ears. "Baby! I missed you! Where-" the words died in San's mouth when he saw the state you were in, or more specifically, the clothes you were wearing. "What the hell?" he asked, standing at a distance looking at you with disbelief in his eyes that you couldn't notice because you were too intoxicated to be aware of your surroundings. "Sannie," You giggled, stumbling to your boyfriend after you shrugged off your coat to the floor to ask for a hug. San still accepted your hug but he was oddly quiet, his eyes hard, and his fists were balled around your waist.

"I'm home now, Sannie!" you were still giggling as you started peppering San's face with kisses. It was then that San smelled the heavy alcohol in your breath which made him cringe and push you back slightly, "What in God's name have you been doing?" Then his eyes travelled down to your clothes, "And what is with this outfit?"

You immediately recognized the tone that he was using on you and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, "I told you I was going to a girls' night at the club and obviously this outfit is amazing because the bartender gave me 2 free shots!" you excitedly said. San reeled back and crossed his arms on his chest, "You mean to tell me you flirted for free drinks?" it took you a moment to answer but you shook your head, "Didn't have to flirt, he saw me in this outfit and he just showed his appreciation. It was no big deal," you shrugged and you tried pushing past him but he easily stopped you by blocking your path. "(y/n), I have to tell you I'm not comfortable with this. It kind of seems like you were selling your dignity so cheaply. As your boyfriend-" "Whoah, go back to you accusing me of being a hoe," you cut him off. San's eyebrows furrowed and he immediately defended himself, "I didn't call you a hoe, I'm just stating that I am not okay with my girlfriend wearing something so short, skimpy, and revealing just so she wouldn't have to pay for her drinks!" he stated.

Truthfully, San didn't have much problem with how you dress. He actually thought that you looked absolutely hot. Hell, he bought you the damn dress when he thought that you were going to wear it when you go out with him. He trusted you completely but what he couldn't trust were the rest 99% of the population who might do something bad to you when you're intoxicated in clothes that for lack of a better word, provided a lot of access. Something bad like what he wanted to do to you when he first saw that dress which was to rip your panties in two, fuck you in the dressing room, stuff you full of cum, and make you keep them safe until you both went home so he can eat the cum out of you.

Had you been sober, you could've agreed with the part about your dress being short, skimpy, and revealing because you had spent the better part of the night trying to not bend down and making sure that when you were dancing, you were shielded by your girlfriends. But the implication still didn't sit right with you and the fact that San was using the boyfriend card ticked you off.

"You're my boyfriend San, not my owner or my master. I'm still my own person and had I flashed a tit or two to get free shit, I should be able to! I get to decide what I get and what I don't get," you huffed and tried pushing past him.

Your steps halted when San shot his hand out and placed it on your chest, his fingers rigid on your collarbones and when you looked into his eyes, there was a glint of darkness and lust that made you shudder.

"Is that how it is, little Miss Independent? You really think you're in charge of whatever you get, big girl?" he smirked, voice lowering down and it was then did you realize, even through your drunken haze, that you were fucked. Or going to be. Hard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All hopes of your friend borrowing your dress were shattered and you had to break the news to her because right now, that dress was being used to tie your hands together behind your back while San had you on top of him, connecting his face with your pussy as he did his best to draw your third orgasm.

"Aww look at you," San chuckled darkly against your pussy, "Big girl can't handle two orgasms in a row?" The spank he delivered on your ass made your knees slip and allowed your whole weight to fall on San who happily accepted being suffocated by your sweet cunt. "S-San," you whimpered, trying to relieve the overstimulation by lifting your hips only to receive a guttural growl from below as his strong arms snaked around your thighs to ensure that you wouldn't be able to escape him. "San, please stop, it's too much" you whimpered while still trying to get out of his grip. Your senses had returned after the first orgasm when San managed to flush the alcohol out of you somehow only for it to be thrown back into a haze when he was working on your second.

Tired of your whining, San flipped you both over and allowed you a moment to breathe. Although it was hard what with the way your cunt was still throbbing and your heart still beating wildly in your chest. Despite his annoyance, San found your sprawled figure to be very delectable what with your flushed and warm skin, rising chest, and pussy glistening with sweat, spit, and arousal, making it seem like it was inviting him in again.

San grabbed your legs and pried them open, allowing him to glare at your pulsing entrance with eyes clouded in desire. "I thought big, independent girls wouldn't have to whine and beg like needy little bitches? Where's the confidence you used to get free drinks from cheap losers?" you somehow managed to lift your head to look at San who had his eyes now locked on yours as he leaned down close to your aching core, "Where's the confidence you used to allow people to think you're not spoken for?" Your back was arched and your jaw unhinged when San licked a fat, long stripe from your peritoneum up to your clit at an agonizingly slow speed. It was as if he wanted you to feel every single bit of movement he made that effectively drove your mind into overdrive. You felt your legs start to shake when he plunged three fingers into your leaking hole after spitting on your cunt, hitting your sensitive clit that he used as a bullseye.

The smug look on his face as he watch you writhe from overstimulation shouldn't turn you on so much but the way you physically reacted betrayed you completely as it chased for more of San, whatever he was willing to give you.

"You're a jerk," you whimpered through teary eyes. Though your voice was getting hoarse from the night out which was followed by him overstimulating you to high heavens, San could hear you loud and clear. "I thought you like getting attention?" San scoffed, pausing to him slapping you harshly on your cunt which caused your body to jolt at the impact, "That's why you were dressed like that, right? I'm just being a supportive boyfriend and helping you practice." The insinuation pissed you off and despite your struggling, you tried to get yourself up and away from him (and failing rather miserably), "I dressed like that for myself you possessive jerk," "Oh, so the lack of panties was what, for health?" When you couldn't answer him, he knew he got you dead on and being proud of himself, he smirked and pulled himself off of you and the bed. The sudden void he left caused you to almost whine out loud, brain forgetting that you were somewhat mad at him.

San came back to the bed completely naked and holding your phone. Immediately, he positioned you flat on your back and his thick thighs pushed onto your own firmly so you were basically folded. Your breath hitched when you felt his cock resting against your sensitive cunt a bit too casually. The skin-on-skin contact allowed you to feel how hot it felt and the way it pleasured you when it rubbed against you every time San made even the slightest movement. "You can say whatever you want and I'll do whatever I want. Seems fair, doesn't it?" Your heart beat quicker and harder in your chest simply from the way he hinted at his plan. "What are you going to do?" You asked, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. San only raised a cocky eyebrow, not even bothering to answer you properly and just simply tapping away on your phone. You had even considered that he might have contacted one of your friends or worse, call them before he fucked you.

But San didn't give you enough time to overthink because, in a moment's time, San flipped your phone sideways, pressed a button, and started pushing inside you. Your eyes watered again from the stretch and even though you were well-lubricated thanks to San's torture on your cunt earlier and also his spit, his size didn't make things easier for you. His cock glided smoothly but your muscles tensed up from the sudden intrusion, slowing his pace a bit and restricting him from being too rough. "Look at Miss Independence breaking down over her boyfriend's cock like a common whore," he chuckled darkly, relishing in the way you whimpered his name and your body arching in pleasure at the feeling of him, "Come on baby, show the camera how you're in charge of everything you get or don't get," he mocked. You were sure that your tears were not just from being overstimulated but also from the humiliation. You were a proud woman who could confidently say that you have never let a man use you even if he tried. But there you were on your back, hands tied, and mind fuzzy, hyper-aware of the way your body just submitted to San's every whim, betraying your better judgment that was still screaming for you to push him off and make him get a taste of his own medicine. But of course, your body was as stubborn as your mind as it refused to go against San.

"San, put away the camera," you whined, turning away from the camera only to have San grab your cheeks in one free hand and force you to look back at him. "Why should I? If you want me to stop, then do it yourself. Take the camera away from me," he smirked as he adjusted his knees so he could start rolling his hips into yours, creating a steady rhythm.

From the screen, he could see the way you glared at him as his words, knowing full well that although he had challenged you to do something you could absolutely not do anything due to the fact that your hands were bound behind your back. Had it been any other circumstance, San would tell you how turned on he was with you at that moment. The way tears made your eyes seem like they were glittering, the way your cheeks were puffed and flushed from frustration, and the way your body was opened up for him to use. The fire between you two was one of the things that San loved.

"Come on, (y/n), show the camera what you can do," he egged, thrusting harshly into you which elicited a high-pitched squeal from your lips. "Fuck you," you whimpered but you did as he told as you began fucking yourself back and instead of matching his pace, you fucked yourself on his cock quicker, convincing yourself that it was, in a way, you taking charge over him. Though, the satisfied look on San's face, paired with the way he licked his bottom lip as he pointed the camera to where you two were connected, proved you otherwise. "I can get fucked if I want to, I control what I get," you stated albeit slightly unconvincingly as your quivering bottom lip served as a dead giveaway. "Of course you do," San cooed mockingly before his free hand dropped to between your legs to spread your pussy lips apart, allowing the camera to capture the way your cunt was swallowing him so greedily.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he saw your cunt pulsing and his head was running wild with filthy ideas. "Baby, I wanna breed you so bad so people would know who you belong to," Your breath hitched when his handsome face contorted into a chesire-like grin and your so-called control was stolen as quickly as you got it. "You're not gonna do shit to me San, I mean it," at this point, your defiance was more like a facade because you wanted what he was offering but your pride wanted to twist it around. San moved his hips quickly, greedily taking all of the pleasure he could get out of you. "Fuck, my big girl is gonna get creamed," he chuckled darkly, fucking you as he tried to keep the camera still to capture everything, particularly the way your cunt leaked so much arousal that his own crotch was wet with the transferred slick.

Your body was being used so well that your limbs (the free ones at least, which were your legs) were flailing about slightly. "Stupid little baby wants to have control when she can't even control her legs, she's fucked so stupid," he teased as you whined in protest, wanting to prove him wrong. So despite the weakness in your legs from the ministrations, you shifted your body around so that you were on your side and your legs were crossed over the other. The new position trapped San's cock inside you and the sensation of his cock being trapped halted his movements mid-way and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as a guttural groan echoed in your ears. You took his response as a mini triumph. "Fuck, you got tighter," he shuddered, body shaking as he took a shaky breath, "Were you trying to snap my dick off?" You feigned innocence as you began rocking your hips again, "Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe if I snap your dick off it'll become mine," you smirked. "You conniving slut."

No longer caring about the camera, San tossed your phone to the side and started pounding into you in a pace that was animalistic. "F-fuck- Aah! San!" you squealed when he planted his left foot firmly on the bed and pounded harder as if he was trying to destroy your insides.

"Say you won't go out dressed like that again," he demanded, face planted on your chest as his abuse of your cunt continued. He began nipping, kissing, biting, and licking all over the skin of your breast and it almost succeeded in clouding your mind into absolute submission due to pleasure. But you managed to firmly shook your head, "I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, I'll do whatever I want!" you answered between harsh pants and heavy breathing.

You heard San click his tongue before he ripped himself off of you in a flash, leaving you on the edge of orgasm and cold. "What the fuck!?" you whined, instinctively trying to get up to chase after San but your bound hands prevented you from moving easily.

San tilted his head and mockingly pouted, "If you can do whatever you want then so can I, baby." Your eyes zeroed in on his hand that jacked his hard, leaking cock and you knew well enough that it wouldn't take him much to cum at that point. Despite his treatment towards you, you wanted his cum, you wanted his cum inside you. "San, you get back here and fuck me!" you scream-whined, desperate to find release.

Hearing your demand, San went back onto the bed and got closer to you. For a moment, you thought San was going back to fucking you but he simply slapped his cock on your face, taunting you. "You want me to fuck you now? I thought you were in charge of yourself," he smirked, rubbing the tip of his cock on your skin, leaving a trail of precum mixed with what was left of your arousal. You held yourself back from using your mouth to chase his cock but your sexual frustration was at its peak and it was at that moment that your resolve broke and you whined. "Sannie, please fuck me, make me cum and then breed me so other guys won't even get close to me, please, please."

That seemed to satisfy San because his next move was to finally release your hands from the hold of the makeshift handcuffs and flip you over so you were on top of him. The pooling slick allowed him to slip inside you rather easily and once he was buried inside, you let out a gasp. "Ride me," San demanded, eyes fixated on you and hands on your hips firmly. San's words barely concluded before you started fucking yourself on his cock, letting out all the frustration both sexual and emotional from the whole bullshit. You anchored yourself on San's broad chest and used him to chase your own release.

"Yeah baby, do it, fuck yourself on me. Use my cock like the big girl that you are," San goaded, smirking and panting from the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock so tightly. "T-told you I'm i-in charge," you panted, throwing your head back as the pleasure ran through your body like electric shocks, making you tingly all over. "Sure you are, baby," San groaned when he felt his release coming.

With one swift swivel of your hips, your body tensed, legs clamped and your orgasm broke like a wave crashing. "Fuck!" you squealed, a couple of tears fell down your face as your body fell backwards without detaching your core from San. Seeing you in your own state of ecstasy, San sat up and shuffled around so he could have his chance chasing his high with you. You were in such a state of blissful release and satisfaction that when San started to overstimulate you once again with his cock, all you could do was groan and turn, trying to get away from him half-heartedly. "I'm cumming inside you, okay? I'm gonna paint you with my seed," San panted into your ear as his lips nipped at the skin, causing the area to tingle and you to whimper as you nodded weakly.

It didn't take long for San to cum inside you, fulfilling his previous promise. He let out a low, breathy moan that got your cunt clenching as he rode his release, making sure that his cum was not wasted and was kept inside you.

Neither of you spoke as you tried catching your breaths, still trying to cool down from the rigorous activity and for you specifically, your mind too far gone to recover so quickly. San momentarily peeked at the edge of the bed, particularly at your ruined dress and couldn't help but smirk, thinking that at least he had one problem done.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread

[luvsupa]

001 | WORK OF ART

tags: sugardaddy!nanami x fem!reader, smut, public sex-ish, toys used, age gap (nanamis late 30s and readers early/ mid 20s), petnames, nanami is in love with reader and her art, mdni.

w.c: 2.6k

a/n: UHMM GUYS THANK U SOSO MUCH FOR 600 FOLLOWERS?! EEKKK ILY GUYSSS 🤍🤍

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated!

the convention center quickly fills up at eight o’clock as hundreds and hundreds of rich people eagerly gather to see and purchase the artworks displayed by you and your fellow artists.

you’re already over the fact that it’s art display season, as obnoxious rich patrons approach your work only to mock it and its price. your coordinator has repeatedly stated that your specific artwork isn’t as eye-catching as the others in your group.

“your art can only sell for one thousand, and that’s pushing it,” your coordinator once said.

one thousand is quite a lot of money, but everyone else’s pieces are selling for five thousand and more! their bland artwork compared to yours shouldn’t be sold for that much—now i’m just sounding jealous.

all the artists stand at their assigned sections in front of their artwork as the paid guests slowly walk in, drawn to whatever catches their attention. you glance at your friend beside you as she wishes you good luck.

the room is brightly lit with led lights, giving it a clean and modern feel. soft, instrumental music plays over the speakers, barely audible over the hum of conversations. waiters weave through the crowd, offering glasses of champagne that clink as guests accept them.

you stand awkwardly, already expecting the nasty glares at your canvas. this year, you went for an erotic art piece titled “a woman’s high.” the painting depicts a woman in an abstract way, in the moment of climax, as a blurred-out male figure gives her oral sex, with the focus solely on the female.

“don’t you think this is quite… inappropriate for an art exhibition?” the middle-aged woman clung to her husband’s arm, both looking disgusted at your erotic painting. she leaned in to read the card with your name, pricing, and title, her brows raising in amusement.

“hah! one thousand for this? oh dear, this is a mockery to all the other talented artists here,” she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. the snobby rich couple found it hilarious, unable to control their laughter. “even i wouldn’t keep it if it were free!” she said as they walked away, still laughing as they moved on to the next pieces.

you stood there, their words stinging more than any you’d heard before. nearly five months spent on your painting, and this is how they treated you. damn that couple.

“your talent for oil painting is incredible,” a deep, husky voice said. you looked up to see a tall, middle-aged man with golden blonde hair slicked back, a few strands hanging in front of his beautifully sculpted face. he was looking at you—and complimenting your art?

you rarely got this stunned at one of your exhibitions, but wow. you shamelessly scanned his figure, muscles bulging from his white button-up shirt, a few buttons undone to show his toned chest. his black dress pants hugged his muscled thighs, and you gulped hard, eyes moving back to his-

“nanami! how great it is to finally see you!” your main coordinator appeared, twirling her hair awhile bombarding him with questions.

“there’s something i want to show you, but it requires us being alone,” she giggled, rubbing his arm up and down. you stood there awkwardly, not wanting to listen to their flirtatious conversation.

“i’m afraid i’ll pass. i’m more intrigued by this beautiful art.” he turned to look at you, making your eyes widen. no one had ever been this persistent about wanting to see your artwork. it made you feel giddy inside.

“oh nanami, this artist needs a lot of practice. i mean, look at the painting!” she pointed out, trying to embarrass you in front of this fine man.

“i wasn’t referring to the painting.”

oh.

“s-sir?” she stammered, both of you shocked at his words. he thinks i’m beautiful? he was very slick with that.

“and her skills are beyond amazing. the way she captures the perfect moment of the woman’s orgasm and highlights her expression—there’s no need for more practice,” he said, silencing your coordinator as he praised the parts of your art that he loved. you were still in shock at what had just occurred.

“however, there is one flaw about this,” nanami stated, and your smile slightly dropped. you were ready for him to treat you the same way everyone else had. your coordinator found an opportunity to bully you and your art even more.

“pfft, finally. i’ve noticed a lot wrong with her art—”

“the price,” he cut her off, pulling out a chequebook from his pocket and beginning to write. “how much?” you both gasped at his boldness.

“i-i…” you stuttered, at a loss for words for the first time, while your coordinator fumed. he chuckled at your reaction as he continued writing, then ripped the paper to hand it to you.

“i’d like for you to come see me later, beautiful,” he said, his smooth words leaving you hypnotized. and with that, he walked away as your coordinator followed him, trying to get his attention.

you stared down at the paper, your jaw dropping at the amount he was giving you.

10,000 dollars

holy fuck.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as the art exhibition continued on all night, you left your painting unattended- searching everywhere throughout the museum to find the mysterious man, nanami. hell, you even had to beg your annoying coordinator for his whereabouts. finally, she gave in.

“he’s going to his car, something about a gift for me!” she exclaimed. you didn’t buy it for a second, but you headed towards the elevator, stepping in to pressing‘P’ as the button illuminated. the doors closed, and the elevator descended to the parking lot.

the button stopped glowing as the doors opened, revealing the eerie parking lot filled with cars on every level. you walked out, your heels clicking against the cold concrete as you quickly rushed to see where he could be.

“are you following me?”

you stopped where you were, hearing his deep voice. you turned around to see his beautiful smirk plastered on his lips, holding his black jacket on his shoulder. fuck, he’s so hot.

“i just wanted to thank you so much for purchasing my art,” you nervously said as he eyed you down. you squeezed your thighs tight as the tension thickened.

“come with me,” he said, smiling as he formed a sinful idea in his mind. he honestly couldn’t control himself, thinking about how delicious you looked in your black mini skirt and white button-up shirt similar to his own.

cute, he thinks.

you wasted no time, immediately picking up your steps as he strode down the long parking lot to his car. finally, his car came into view—a luxurious sports car you’d only seen in movies and tv shows. how rich is he?

he unlocks the driver's door as you stand in front of his car, listening to the muffled chatter and honks of the city coming to life at night. from the corner of your eye, you see him pull out a box as he shuts the door, catching your attention.

"i want you to put this on," he says, walking closer and towering over you as he hands you the box. you carefully read it, and your jaw drops for the second time that night.

bluetooth vibrator.

"i-i can't, i have to be talking to people this whole night," you stammer, attempting to hand the box back, but he doesn't take it.

"that's the whole point, sweetheart. live a little- have fun." he coos, bringing his hands to cup your face, caressing it. "you always seem so serious. let me show you how to enjoy yourself." for the first time your body betrays you as you start feeling aroused by him.

shamelessly, you bring one of your free hands to pull his neck lower to your level, smashing him into a heated kiss. he smirks into the kiss as you suck harshly on his lips, smudging your lipstick onto his. nanami places you against the hood of his luxurious sports car as the box slips from your hand, making a loud thud on the ground.

"eager, aren't we?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension and desire.

nanami parts your thighs with his knee, allowing you to grind on him. your hips move rhythmically as you whimper into the kiss, growing wetter by the second.

he snakes his hand down to your thighs, moving his knee, eliciting a needy whimper from you. wanting more. he replaces his knee with his thick fingers, easily reaching your clothed cunt through your short skirt. he rubs your leaky slit through your panties, and you moan into the kiss. he pulls away, chuckling at how quickly you became this wet.

"such a good girl," he teases, his tone both patronizing and seductive.

you look up at him with needy eyes, craving more of his touch—more of him. you need him.

“i’ll see you inside,” he says, pecking your lips and sliding his hand away from your heat. he walks away, wiping the smudged lipstick off his mouth, leaving you sprawled out on the hood of his car. how can he leave you like this? you’re contemplating on whether you should continue on or leave- oh fuck it.

“w-wait, i’ll put it on,” you say, rising from the hood of the car and wobbling towards him as you quickly pick up the box. he chuckles, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. 

“my sweet girl, i knew you’d give in,” he says, turning around to see you almost losing your balance. he holds you steady as you start unboxing the toy, wanting nothing more than a good release from him.

you stare at the oddly shaped vibrator, confused about how to put it on.

nanami grabs the pink toy from your hand as he kneels to the ground. “may i?” he asks, wanting to insert it for you. you eagerly nod as he bunches up your skirt to your waist, and you stare down at him, watching his every move like a hawk.

he places a soft kiss on your clothed clit, making you nearly fall over. nanami swiftly tugs down your panties, and you step out of them as he rises from the ground, standing tall as he shoves your wet panties into his pocket. how nasty he is.

“geez, you’re soaking,” he points out, swiping two of his fingers along your slit and watching your arousal coat his digits. he brings the toy to your hole, aligning it with the tip before slowly inserting it. you hiss at the stretch of the toy within your velvety walls, the girth painfully good as you bite your lip hard, clenching rapidly around the silicone toy.

you whimper as he positions the other half of the toy against your achy clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to ensure it’s perfectly aligned with your sensitive nub. he’s determined to see you crumble.

nanami smooths down your skirt, pulling it back into place so no one can see the lewd things happening between you two. he retrieves his phone from his pocket and connects to the app, pressing the power button. your knees buckle as the vibrator springs to life, the dual stimulation nearly making you roll your eyes back at the slow, teasing intensity.

“you did so good, baby,” he coos, his praise making you hum in pleasure as he steadies your balance, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head. he increases the intensity, and broken moans slip from your lips. he finds your reactions amusing as he guides you back to the elevator, pressing the button and standing behind you, holding you in place.

“y-you clicked the wrong f-floor,” you manage to gasp, breathless. he chuckles darkly behind you, making your skin crawl. your eyes shoot up in horror as you realize he’s selected the floor where all the guests enter to get to the museum.

“oh, did I? silly me,” he says, a smirk evident in his voice. as the elevator doors open, you’re met with a small group of guests, including the middle-aged couple who had mocked you earlier. you feel a fleeting sense of relief as he finally turns off the vibrator, but the situation remains unbearably tense.

the elevator is packed with guests, and you’re pressed intimately close to nanami. the heat of his body against yours only heightens your need, as you’re unconsciously grinding against his bulge, desperate for release.

“nanami, i didn’t realize you were with her,” the familiar woman says, clinging to her husband. the bitch who flat out insulted me..

“mhm, yes, i am,” nanami replies smoothly, his hand slipping lower to discreetly control the vibrator. “have you seen her work? i think everyone should join. she’s got a beautiful speech prepared, don’t you?” he adds, his gaze shifting to you with a knowing smile. heads turn in your direction, intrigued by the fact that nanami kento is involved.

“oh, yes, i suppose i’ll prepare something as well—mmf,” you try to stifle a moan as nanami cranks the vibrator to its fullest intensity. you squeeze your thighs tightly, fighting to keep your arousal from dripping down your thighs.

“and what will it be about?” a businessman in the elevator asks curiously. you can barely focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure of the vibrator thrusting in and out at a relentless pace, your poor clit being ruthlessly stimulated.

“haven’t—hahhh—i haven’t f-finished,” you stammer, casting a pleading look at nanami, desperate for the torture to end. he only smiles in response, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction.

ding!

you’ve never been so eager for the elevator’s arrival. the guests say their goodbyes, but just as nanami tries to guide you out, you stop him, hitting a random button.

“what happened to speaking to everyone the whole night, hmm?” he says, his voice dripping with mockery as he gazes down at your dazed expression.

“fuck them,” you mutter, reaching up to kiss him, but he pulls away, eliciting a pout from you.

“such a dirty mouth—do you expect me to kiss you?” he says, bringing a hand to your face. you melt into his touch as he slowly brings his thumb to your mouth, smudging your lipstick. he rests his thumb on your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, looking sultry into his hazel eyes.

you take his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and slightly bobbing your head as if giving a messy blowjob. nanami watches, his blood rushing to his growing bulge as he takes in your bratty attitude.

you release his thumb with a slight pop, leaving it glistening with your saliva. nanami, shocked by your filthy display, grabs your face and crashes his lips onto yours. this kiss is hungrier, more eager than the last.

ding!

the elevator’s arrival chimes, and the doors start to open. your coordinator, her face a mask of horror, sees you two and screams in shock. she’s so upset that storms off. the doors quickly close, leaving you and nanami in the privacy of the elevator.

you chuckle at her reaction. “i have to get back, nanami,” you say, your hands roaming his chest, a whimper escaping as you remember the toy still buried deep inside you.

“you’re really gonna leave me like this?” he growls, referring to his raging hard-on. you chuckle, feeling a thrill at his reaction. “hmm, you can still toy with me the entire night,” you purr.

nanami reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a business card, his name and phone number neatly printed. “call me when you’re ready to leave. i’m not done with you,” he promises, making you feel excited for what he has planned.

you give him a quick peck on the lips and press the ‘open’ button on the elevator. just as you’re about to step out, you feel a sharp sting on your ass cheek. you hear him hum behind you.

oh how he’s going to cause so much trouble.. 

[romanoffsbish]

Kissing Booth

Natasha Romanoff x F!R (College AU)

Tired of your girlfriends on and off kind of love, you set off to see just how invested she is in keeping you | WC: 2,848

Warnings: Toxic-Ish themes | Jealous Nat | Blood

Smut: Public | Jean-Riding (R) | Oral (R) | Degradation (Slut)

18+ | Minors DNI

"Y/N Y/L/N's pledge to the campuses first ever, Mental Wellness Festival is: a one woman booth meant to stimulate your joy receptors; a smooch of serotonin. Fellas, swing on by and steal a kiss, from the palm of my hand, and enjoy your sweet treat. Ladies and They's lean in closer love, if you set the right price, you can take the grand prize—a kiss of your choosing; my lips taste like artificial cherry and melted chocolate if that's of any interest to you. All proceeds go to a fund set in place to create better avenues for those suffering to cope with their hefty course loads as they manage heavy thoughts too." Natasha read the words over and over again in her traumatized mind until her pure feelings came to a boil as she huffed and ripped the paper off of the wall of every place she'd found it.

———

It didn't matter though. Because even though she took them down within the same hour they'd gone up, when she stepped onto the quad lit up by stadium lights she saw that your booths line had wrapped around the diamond twice in the five minutes that it was open.

Her fists clenched briefly as she saw Wanda and Carol, her sorority sisters, eagerly stood in line. Then she shook her head with a near manic laugh. The redhead truly felt bad for the other people here who thought that you'd actually kiss them on their mouths. Foolish to even dream of it really, because you knew better than to let them taint your sweet lips with their lust.

Theirs was carnal; vile another way to express that they wouldn't care for you like she would. Hers was soul crushing, but in the euphoric sense, because you knew no matter what happened between you two, that you were never alone. Natasha might be away, or distant, but she'd never leave you to become another's prey.

Far too perfect for her to lose to her traitorous sisters. They'd be dealt with later, but right now, your (ex) girlfriend had to focus on creeping in the shadows. Watching to see just how far you'd push her buttons.

All Natasha needed was your patience for a month, not even the full thirty days honestly. It was only meant to be a break so that she could focus on her studies, the way her A+'s, and full marks had dropped to A-'s had scared her into thinking that space would help fix it.

It didn't, but she pretended it did because she could not psych herself out of sticking to her desired path. You clearly lacked the patience and respect only your mommy could teach you. The exams are literally next week, you've been so good up until this final stretch. Not bothering her with physical ambushes, or even texting her, which she actually scolded you for, to which you re-shared your location with her just to limit the contact you'd have to make with her through text.

That hurt her feelings a bit, but she refused to wallow in the mess that she'd made. Your feelings were hurt first, and the aftermath treated hers no kinder, and lord knows this wasn't the first time she's done this.

That was in high school, junior year, and you were distraught by the decision. Then Summer came with apologies, and forgiveness. Now, in your fourth and final year of undergrad, you're just used to it. For some reason she just kept getting away with it unscathed...

Until now at least.

The woman you craved watched you with dilated eyes that caught everything. She's only hiding to see who you flirt with, genuinely, and consequently putting them on her list of people whose life she must now ruin in relation to you. Her mind raced when you let an older woman peck your cheek, she had only given you $500, and yet you let the corners of your lips brush.

Natasha growled in place of a whimper, she couldn't get the infuriating image out of her mind, her eyes burned with frustration as she pictured you and the football captain's girlfriend leaving the field together.

The redhead wouldn't let that happen. Darcy Lewis, the gifted scientist, and lover to a Mr. Sam Wilson, would leave here sooner in a body bag than with you.

Natasha pictured shoving the overzealous woman off of a cliff, then she'd return so she could approach you as she dug in her deep crossbody fanny pack, to then slam her wad of cash into the full jar, pull you up into a bruising kiss, and lift the bowl as she kicked the table over, helping flip to the red closed sign for good.

It was $4,000 in hard cash, money she'd just pulled out this morning to get a cashiers check for rent and to pay her other bills; Natasha was pissed, you sure felt that in the way that she harshly nibbled on your lips, cracking open the silky smooth skin; bright red blood smeared your coffee stained teeth. Everyone's whispers of fury and shock were drowned out as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. Natasha hungrily sought out this elevated moment where she took a chance and recklessly guided your body around the corner until she could slam you up against a random concrete wall.

.... It paid off.

"Oh fuck," you huffed as your exposed upper back brushed against prickly vines, the crisp chill in the air instantly solidifying your blood against your skin. You could hardly care about the pain though as Natasha's thigh brushed against the bare cunt you'd sported beneath your skirt the entire night. That shiny metal chair was dripping with your essence as you saw your soulmate (ex-girlfriend) watching you with fury.

You were drenched, painfully needy, and screaming: "Natasha please—god I'm so fucking wet right now!"

"I know you are slut," she growled as her sharp canines grazed over the throbbing veins of your jugular. "I can feel your sticky mess through my jeans." You mewled at the rough press of your slick cunt to her pants, it had you seeing staticky stars. If she kept up a steady pace you were certain to be discovering galaxies. "Mmm, I need to cum mommy, need to cum so bad, please!"

"Yeah?" She scoffed, and you nodded frantically. "Well I need my money back, but instead I've donated it to do with these lips as I please so how about you shut it."

You didn't heed her warning, "Please, I'm sorry..."

"So fucking greedy," she growled, the glare she held as she pulled away from your neck sparked a thrill of fear to run straight to your core, your pretty eyes plead for reprieve, and naturally, the redhead gave in. "Go ahead slut, but make sure to let them hear you." Natasha's arms flexed as she expertly guided your core against the rough material of her jeans, and so you moaned out into the world her outwardly embarrassing title, letting everyone know they never stood a chance, it was a beautiful symphony to your on and off again lover that ended on a high note when she heard a familiar gush.

While you heavily panted, desperately breathing in the crisp night air that chilled your lungs into a hitch, she reveled in how the delicate rumble felt against her lips that were spread against the thin skin of your throat. Her tongue darted out, licking up the salty layer atop of your tacky skin, her teeth brushed back down, going the opposite way her tongue just had. The redheads goal of an endgame was etched into your exposed skin.

Your collarbones now decorated with her marks; ones that spoke of jealousy, and paired with a fragile love. You whimpered softly, the way her wet lips suckled on the already marked skin of your thudding pulse point bled off into the more painful side of things. Her wet tongue slid over the same spot in apology, then her lips founds yours after she kissed up the side of your neck.

Natasha's lips pressed against yours much softer than before, but you could tell she was frustrated with you. Which was fair, and matched as you stewed yourself, a part of you did feel guilty, but mostly, you felt broken.

But you weren't about to cry, no, you'd rather get mad.

It was what the naive asshole had earned. Natasha was great, a caring girlfriend who looked to you to smother with all of her love, the last six years together were a dream come true. A dream that faded into a nightmare whenever she becomes stressed, becoming someone you hardly recognize. She'd become dismissive, cold and quick to call for a blip; a break in your sacred union. Each time she said the same thing, "Just a bit of space is all I need, we'll be okay, mommy promises."

It was what she needed—never you, but she made it seem as if you'd happily agreed to her conditional love. As if letting you feel like her life could only improve if you were to leave it was something you took positively.

You were young, and carefree but not dumb enough to not know this wasn't healthy and maybe for your own petty thrill, you wanted to test her very limits. To see if she might just see what she risks losing, but you feel like all she got from this was more frustration. It only took a moment for her to huff that angrily against your chapped lips. "All I asked of you was for time Y/N."

You leaned your head back and pouted, eyes soft like a wounded puppy's. "We're better together Tasha."

Natasha sighed, "I know detka," she conceded with ease, her guilty face falling into the crook of your neck as she took in a calming breath. "I've been miserable without you honey, but we had to know that this could work. I'm going to have to travel for work, and I don't want to have to worry about you entertaining others."

"I'd never cheat," you hissed, "You asked for a break, that means we're no longer in a relationship Natasha."

"That's not what I meant and you know it Y/N," her nails dug into your sides. "Never have we ever ran a kissing booth during one, now stop being so difficult."

"I'm not being difficult Natasha, I'm doing charity work, and having a bit of fun as I do it." You shrugged and she frowned. "So breaking my heart is fun?"

You sighed softly, unwilling to unpack the hypocrisy of her words, "The only way this works out is if only your body leaves me in those times, but if you're saying random bouts of silence is the final answer th—." Nat cut you off, "You stopped texting Y/N, not me."

"Yeah, because you just wanted a 'good morning' and 'night' or an 'I'm home' after my classes got out, and you'd simply like it. Not even a 'morning love' or a 'glad you made it home safe' or an 'I love you.' in response."

"I needed to focus on school," she tried to defend, it was a pathetic excuse, and you both knew it. "Then you can do that Natasha, but I won't be waiting for you anymore, these breaks in affection are killing me."

"What? I-." You pressed your hands to her shoulders and attempted to push her away but she fiercely stood her ground. "What are you saying Y/N? Because I—."

"Need to let me go," you tiredly replied, "If I, um, if our relationship is too much of a problem for you on your journey to success then it's best we end this now."

Natasha's heart froze in her chest, the idea made her ill. "No!" Natasha fell to her knees, lips brushing over your abdomen before her hands lifted your skirt, and then her nose was nudging the wet skin of your thigh beside your cunt. "I'll do better honey, I swear to it." Her lips trembled, "No more breaks," her voice cracked and your heart sank. Your hands fell to the outline of her head that was buried beneath your skirt, her erratic breaths fanned across the sticky mess between your thighs and your body shivered. "Natasha, get up."

You felt the godly crafted curve of her nose nudge your clit as she shook her head, your mind was reeling with desperation, the same as her words. "I'm insane Y/N, clearly, because my reckless hypocrisy nearly lost me you, but I'm not so crazy that I'd actually let you go."

"Nat..." your muttering of her name cut off in a shaky breath as you felt her shake her head again, the thin twigs snapped as you threw your head back. "No," she murmured against the slick curve of your labia, a wet kiss made your hip jolt off the wall and slip more of her face between your folds. "You are my home Y/N."

Your heart stuttered as you heard her sniffle, her warm tears cascaded over the slick of your thighs and soaked into the cracks of your kneecaps. Hurting her wasn't something you relished in, but it was also necessary.

You knew that up until now things had been toxic, but you also knew your threat of dissolution wouldn't be dismissed. Natasha wouldn't let you go, she'd fell for you way back in middle school, she had the diary's in a locked drawer outlining your future together, the stars were aligned well before you knew, and they officially clicked when she made her move sophomore year.

After puberty gave her a much needed confidence boost she'd asked you out, using homecoming as an excuse, and you didn't hesitate to say yes. She kissed you after walking you home, her mind shifted when her lips pressed into yours, giving her a taste, and from that moment forward she has held on possessively.

Which is why you knew the moment your flyers went up that she would be all over you. A minute part of you lived for these raw moments where the insecurities her distance had created are edged out of your wary mind. Natasha wasn't a fan of breaking your heart either, but with who her parents are you can show her some grace, her expression was clearly a byproduct of their neglect.

Especially when she worked your body so perfectly. "Mmm, fuck," you gasped abruptly, mind exceptionally fuzzy as her despair had turned into the sloppiest head you'd ever received in your life. The noises were lewd, not even the school's festival could drown her out the more her tongue lavished away at your oozing cunt.

Natasha forgot what it was like to breathe for a long moment, her nose and mouth too busy working together to keep your mind fuzzy from pleasure. It was also her way of relishing the time she spent with your intimacy, fear clawing at her heart that this could be it.

The final time she was able to make you cry out her name, to make you feel this good, to love you as she always should. Her mind ran wild with the thought that you might've been scoping out your next lover tonight—could Wanda or Carol be better suited for you? No! She shook her head again and you came, crying out for her—you needed her, and her alone.

Natasha's nails dug into your ass, spreading your cheeks so that she could delve even further into your core with her tongue. Intent solely on drinking you dry, not that she ever really could, no matter how much she lapped away you never failed to become wet again. It was a vicious cycle that she endured with glee.

Your essence was something she always savored, but in this exact moment she found herself rushing to clean it up, her body now plagued with a persistent urge to cry.

Tears and slick intermixed on your thighs, creating their own slippery consistency that led to the redhead falling further into you as she tried to push herself up. You chuckled slightly before reaching a hand down to help her to her feet, the humor dying as soon as her face was leveled with yours. It was hard to feel joy when the love of your life looked so damn despaired.

"Oh Tasha," you coo'd, hands gentle as they cupped her  wet cheeks. "Please, don't leave me detka," she sobbed, her slick hands laid over yours, attempting to keep the comfort of your touch on her, even if it was forced. Fortunately, your intent was only to bring her closer as you pulled her face forward and into a sloppy kiss. The way she whimpered at the affection solidified your choice to stay and fight for the love you knew existed.

"Take me home baby, these lips are yours to keep."

[daistea]

𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

gn!reader

word count: 3,000 :o !

Mild Spoilers! Sfw-ish

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

What Do The Canaries Think?

Before you can date Mithrun, you must first defeat his five evil exes. (The Canaries.)

Depending on your background, Pattadol may either be suspicious of you or happy that you’re with the Captain. If you have her trust, she’s generally quite supportive. She cares for Mithrun like how a fresh out of highschool over-achieving kid that just got a job at the local dumpy gas station cares for their chain-smoking 40 year old manager that handles all the rude customers. That is, not quite a big brother, but not quite simply a coworker. Pattadol is one of the first to recognize Mithrun’s feelings for you. She generally stays out of his business, though, and is your savior when it comes to dealing with the other Canaries. Defeat her with the power of kindness and sensibility. Or not. She’ll respect Mithrun’s decision no matter what. 

Cithis does not like you, not unless you do something to earn her respect. It’s not personal, she just sees you as a nuisance, a fly buzzing around the Captain's head; except he’s decided to keep the fly as a pet for some reason. She’s the first to notice Mithrun’s feelings and it honestly surprises her. On occasion, she’ll whisper horrible little things about you to Mithrun in an attempt to irritate him— things like “Oh look, they’re smiling so sweetly at someone else. Doesn’t that drive you mad?” Mithrun doesn’t react, simply casting her a glance. “No, it doesn’t,” he says. Cithis gives him a look and his good eye flickers away in thought. “A bit,” he corrects himself. She doesn’t push him too far, though. She will try to establish her dominance over you. Defeat her with the power of stubbornness and determination. 

Fleki doesn’t care. She will make fun of both you and Mithrun and ask a lot of invasive, embarrassing personal questions just for funsies. Mithrun doesn’t mind the questions at all, but if they make you uncomfortable then he’ll tell her to stop. She thinks it's funny to interrupt your alone time and be a third wheel. However, if anyone criticizes you or your relationship, she’s one of the first to defend you. Defeat her with the power of a sense of humor and maybe drugs or an interesting toy to distract her. 

Lycion does not like you. It is personal. He’s simply protective and jealous. It’ll take him a while to warm up to the idea of you and the Captain being together, no matter what you do. Just give him time. He won’t go so far as to try and break you up, but you’ll notice him sometimes watching you coolly, his face calm but his eyes analytical, observing your every move. Beneath that stare, you feel like a rabbit being stalked by a wolf. Once he warms up to you, he joins Fleki in asking invasive questions. You almost wish he still disliked you… Defeat him with the power of patience and a thick skin. 

Otta doesn’t care either. If you’re part of a short-lived race, she’ll have slight affection for you and be the most understanding about your relationship with Mithrun— if you die years before Mithrun, Otta is the one who supports and pities him, rather than just being confused as to why he falls apart afterwards like the others are. If you’re long-lived, she doesn’t care about your relationship as much, it isn’t nearly as interesting to her then. Otta does not need to be defeated.

 You’ve defeated the Canaries! What awaits you now?

Mithrun has been in relationships before, but not in the last forty-ish years. Not since The Incident. Before The Incident he was quite charming, a little careless, and kind of a bad boyfriend. He had so many red flags. He hid them well, though, and nobody really got close enough for him to feel comfortable dropping his facade, so the red flags generally stayed hidden. Toxic bf Mithrun was real. 

He’s been in relationships. He’s slept with people. He thinks he knows what to do and for the first time in forever, he considers doing those things again. With you. The feeling may be a bit dim and uncomfortable for him, something that must be cultivated, but post-ending Mithrun isn’t about to ignore it. 

Pre-ending Mithrun is a bit more stubborn, though. Most think he doesn’t feel anything, but he does. He feels empathy for dungeon lords, he can be surprised, he can be irritated, he can be desperate when it comes to his goals. Most emotions are dimmed, though, and it would take him a while to recognize what’s happening when he starts falling in love. And when he does recognize it, it kind of irritates him. It’s a distraction. It’s useless to him. But he doesn’t really do anything about it, if you want to cozy up to him then go ahead, just don’t get your hopes up. He will react physically, though, such as tensing when you touch him, grabbing you to pull you out of the way of danger, sometimes his stomach churns when you smile… He has no desire to question those things. 

Can you romance pre-ending Mithrun? Yes and no. Don’t expect much. Are your feelings requited? Yes and no. Don’t expect much. Can you get physical? Sometimes. Don’t expect much. 

Post-ending Mithrun is more willing to explore these feelings. The demon is dead, he’s… trying to live. He honestly planned to simply waste away once the demon was defeated— and that wouldn’t have even been satisfying, either, because killing the demon wasn’t his true desire. Now, he’s working on his view of himself and his existence. His desires aren’t going to just magically reappear in him, it will take a lot of work and patience. When a desire for you starts to grow, he closely examines it, curious. What is it about you that attracts him? It starts out in a cavalier manner, this new desire is simply there and he’s not going to do much about it. Then it starts to fester. Mithrun starts noticing more things about you, little stuff that he never would’ve bothered to see before. He starts taking note of how he physically reacts to your touch and presence. He may not have the desire to do things like eat or sleep, but he still experiences the physical repercussions of those things— collapsing from exhaustion, a growling stomach. It’s the same with your touch. A skip of his heart, heat in his stomach, his gaze lingering on you whenever you’re near.

The desire grows and becomes undeniable. That’s when Mithrun starts to get a bit more emotional, a bit more desperate, a bit possessive. When he develops a desire for something, he digs his claws in and refuses to let go. 

It gets to the point where he just inserts himself into your life. He does it subtly and casually, without any passion or performance or drama. He’s just… there one day. How did his clothes get in your drawer? Don’t worry about it.

Mithrun thinks he knows what to do in a relationship since he was in a few before the dungeon. Except, he was a selfish, emotionally-closed off boyfriend. Fortunately, he doesn’t really have the desire to take the steps he used to take in relationships. He knows he should probably take you on dates, flirt with you, do the whole confession thing… 

He does not do those things. 

Not normally, at least. Mithrun simply figures that if you wanted a typical relationship, you wouldn’t be interested in a person like him. So he’s going to just do what he wants. 

What does he want, though? He doesn’t really want much of anything but you and maybe a few other little desires he’s cultivated. But in order to have you, he has to do things. What things? It suddenly hits him that no matter how much experience he had with relationships before the dungeon, things are different now and he’s basically starting over in that area. 

Mithrun decides to just simply do what feels right. 

His method of flirtation? Staring at you. Subtly touching you. Grabbing your wrist or waist and suddenly teleporting you both somewhere more private even though he knows you hate it when he teleports you without warning. 

Dates with Mithrun? Doing errands together. Him inviting you to his house and listening to you talk. 

A confession? No. You can ask Mithrun what you are, if you want, and he’ll say, “We’re in a relationship. Did you not notice?” He doesn’t even flinch. How long have you been dating? Neither of you really know. 

If you never ask what you two are, he’s never going to say anything unless the situation calls for it. You might find out randomly one day when he’s talking to a merchant and says, “I’ll buy this for my partner.”

"Who's your partner?" You ask.

Mithrun simply looks at you. He's thinking something but you can't quite tell what yet. Finally, he raises a brow, "You. Obviously."

Obviously.

Imagine that you have no clue you’ve been dating for years and one day he just slips a ring on your finger and tells you that the wedding is next weekend. 

Mithrun doesn’t have as many red flags as he used to, but there’s still a few. He can be a bit unsupportive sometimes. He can be apathetic. And possessive. 

His possessiveness is subtle and only really kicks in once he’s deeply in love. You’re only in Melini temporarily and have to return home? Oops your boat was destroyed, there’s chairs stuck in walls and planks hanging from the ceiling. You got another boat? Oops that one’s been mysteriously destroyed too. Another boat? Oops—

“Are you destroying my boats?” You ask. Mithrun doesn’t even glance up from his book when he answers, “Yep.” 

“Stop doing that.”

He finally looks up, his face blank as he meets your eyes. “No.”

He’ll stop if you insist but he’s going to be grumpy about it.

Mithrun trusts you, his possessiveness doesn’t come from a place of insecurity. He’s just finally found a desire, another reason to keep living, and he’s not going to let go of that. 

Yet, he's never really outwardly jealous. He doesn't make a scene. He doesn't start fights. But the person flirting with you feels this presence... like eyes on the back of their neck... like danger lurking from the shadows... They turn around and Mithrun is just standing there with his arms crossed.

He likes to teleport people away from you. Pattadol has asked him to stop because it's scaring the people of Melini. He just does it more subtly then.

Generally, a relationship with Mithrun is understated. Your connection runs deep but is unspoken. He says I Love You through soft touches, through the way he opens the door for you, by the way he stares, how he lingers, how he starts taking better care of himself so as to not worry you, how he gives you his cloak when you’re cold, how he gets a bit unhinged if you're hurt in the dungeon. Little things.

Domestic Headcanons

Mithrun actually has bad depth perception due to being blind in one eye. He’s learned how to deal with it, but on occasion you’ll playfully toss something at him and he’ll miss catching it by a longshot. You apologize profusely, but he doesn’t really mind. It is what it is. 

His sense of direction is worse. But he carries himself with such confidence and authority that people often ask him for directions. You’re usually leading the way when you go out.

Mithrun post-canon actually cooks a bit more than one would realize. His food isn’t good at first, but Senshi teaches him a bit and he gets better! Cooking together with you, or cooking for you, is one of his preferred activities. 

He’s very clean and tends to keep his house spotless. This also surprises people since they assume he would have no desire to clean. They’re right, he doesn’t have that desire, but he’s been trained to keep his surroundings clean. It’s just a habit, something he does robotically, automatically. 

FUN FACT: HIS EARS TWITCH. What’s left of them is still quite soft and he will, on occasion, let you touch them. They tend to twitch when he’s annoyed, droop when he’s sad, and perk up when he’s interested or curious, like all elf ears. If you blow on them, they’ll flicker like a cat’s, but he’ll usually pull away and give you a Look if you do that. 

Mithrun sleeps like a burrito. You don’t share blankets in bed, you need your own. Even in hot weather, he’s still wrapped up. 

He also tends to wake up late in the morning. 

He likes it when you play with his hair. If you don’t brush it for him, it won't get done and will start to tangle. On hot days, it’s good to pull his hair back into a little stubby ponytail to keep it off his neck.

Mithrun is a cuddler, surprisingly. He doesn’t like anyone else touching him, but he chooses to touch you. He likes wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, tangling your fingers together, and pulling you into his lap or sitting on yours.

If you’re smaller and lighter than him, he will not hesitate to manhandle you in certain situations. He’ll throw you over his shoulder, pick you up and set you down elsewhere, and carry you if you ask. You’re in front of the kitchen drawer he needs into? You’re getting lifted up without warning and set down outside the perimeters of the kitchen. He’s quite strong for an elf! 

If you’re the bigger one, feel free to manhandle him! He’s used to it. 

He teleports around the house. And his steps are light. It’s not his intention to scare you, though, that’s just what he does. 

The Canaries are in your house often. Fleki likes to sleep on your couch. Lycion likes to eat your food. Mithrun kicks them out eventually.  

He doesn’t really care about introducing you to his family, but once his brother finds out that he’s in a relationship, he wants to meet you! He has many stories to tell you about Mithrun's childhood.

There’s a chance that Mithrun has never met his biological father. He actually doesn’t care about that and has no desire to meet him. I headcanon that he doesn’t have a good relationship with his mother or her husband. While he’s generally let go of the resentment over being sent to the Canaries, he still doesn’t really want to interact with them. 

Modern Au Headcanons

He uses three in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. He used to have a hair care routine before the Trauma, but now it's more efficient to use the three in one. 

He isn’t allowed to drive. He’s your passenger princess. 

Mithrun would play bass. This information was given to me through a prophetic dream, soooo...

He was probably raised playing something fancy like harp, violin, or piano. But he never kept up with it. 

Mithrun can ballroom dance! Does he enjoy it? Not at all. But he can and will if you ask. 

He prefers cats. 

Mithrun drinks seven Red Bulls a day. Fleki sometimes pours Nyquil into his can and Mithrun proceeds to see The Hat Man. 

On occasion, he’ll smoke a cigarette. But he doesn’t like how it makes his clothes smell, so it’s rare. 

Hoodies, baggy jackets, jeans, and slip on dad-shoes are all that’s in his closet. 

You’re invited to his apartment… You walk in, and the living room is empty save for one folding chair with a television in front of it. Still, it’s spotless, clean, and smells of Windex. 

His fridge is empty aside from energy drinks— they do not give him energy— and bowls of ramen he never finished eating. 

Once he starts recovering from the Trauma, his fridge looks better and he cooks more often. 

Mithrun’s preferred video game of choice is Fallout New Vegas. Don’t ask me why, I just know. 

He also likes Legend of Zelda! His consoles and devices are old and he’s never caught up on new releases. 

His phone screen is insanely cracked but he never gets around to fixing it. 

He doesn’t answer phone calls. Even from his brother or the Canaries. He just doesn’t feel like it. Text him if you want his attention. 

Zero social media presence. However, if he wants to stalk someone— you— he has Cithis use one of her many burner/catfish accounts so she can do it and tell him the tea. 

He goes to the gym at two in the morning because he can’t sleep. 

No therapist, no antidepressants, just raw dogging life. 

He is weirdly good at Jeopardy. 

The Canaries meet every Saturday at a dingy bar near his apartment! Mithrun’s tolerance is low, though, so he doesn’t drink much. (Before the Trauma, he would regularly get white girl wasted.)

If he does drink too much, he just falls asleep. 

They also have monthly game nights! Mithrun is an absolute menace at Catan. The rest of the table is screaming, making deals, arguing with each other, but Mithrun sits there quietly, strategizing… The Canaries don’t actually care who wins, they just want Mithrun to lose. 

The Canaries will sometimes drag him to concerts, parties, or music festivals. He brings ear plugs and his Kindle. (You’re on stage, singing your hit song. The crowd is going wild, girls are screaming your name, begging for your attention. But then you see him… He’s not paying attention, he’s not looking for your approval. He’s just reading Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice in the middle of the crowd, his hair in a messy bun, his converse black. This guy is different… This guy is deep… You invite him backstage afterward. He insults your music, thinking it's for preps. His friends forced him to come and he'd rather be in his room, listening to mcr and reading books. Your infatuation with this quirky senior citizen only grows.)

My Relationship Playlist for Mithrun

Never Love an Anchor - The Crane Wives

Runner - Tennis

Metaphor - The Crane Wives

Feel Better - Penelope Scott 

Absence - Rio Romeo

Pearl Diver - Mitski

The Perfect Pair - beabadoobee

The Only Exception - Paramore

From Eden - Hozier

High and Dry - Radiohead

We’ll Never Have Sex - Leith Ross

How I’d Kill - Cowboy Malfoy

Curses - The Crane Wives

✧˖°

[starry-bi-sky]

i have been unmedicated for the entirety of spring break and thus have had little interest in writing this down, but i have been thinking about this for the entire week (as well as a dpdc clone danny au that resulted in it becoming its entirely separate batman au that includes a teenage vigilante bruce wayne, an ocarina, and me entirely incapable of making a batman au without making bruce dirt poor but we're not talking about that) and so i've finally went 'fuck it' and forcibly grabbed my laptop. I will get this done in one sitting even if it kills me.

BUT. This is about neither clone^2 danny nor about who i am calling Ocarina Batman. This is about my Danyal Al Ghul Au and more SPECIFICALLY it's me thinking about his relationship with Sam and Tucker specifically.

Tucker and Sam? Adore this asshole (affectionate) with every fiber of their being. And it is very much a reciprocated feeling, but Danny's thoughts will not be delved into much other than he would kill for them.

Tucker? The only person currently capable of getting a deep, loud, belly laugh out of Danny. Sam can get him to smile and to laugh, but it's the kind that's a chuckle-under-the-breath. The quiet, looks-down-while-huffing laughter. Snorts once with laughter and then grins stupidly.

But Tucker? Tucker can crack a slew of stupid jokes and Danny will be incapacitated for the next five minutes because he's laughing so hard that he can't breath. He lands one well-timed pun or quip and Danny will be close to tears. His laughter is their favorite sound in the whole world.

Sam is lowkey jealous of this ability, and she's gotten a belly laugh out of Danny a few times. But alas, it is Tucker who wields this power and has gotten it the most times out of the two of them.

-

They're also both physically affectionate with Danny as much as possible. It started roughly around when they were 12-ish, a year since they befriended Danny, and they noticed that he sought after touch but never seemed to initiate (and was in some ways repulsed by it). They started slowly being more touchy with him. Hooking a finger around his to lead him somewhere, tapping his wrist, looping arms. Little touches, grabs, etc, to get him used to it, and once he started doing it back they started increasing it.

It's gotten to a point where he will now just. Lay on them. Like a lizard sunbathing on a rock. Leaning on their backs when they're sitting in class before the bell rings, his chin on their heads. He'll talk about anything with his arms looped around their shoulders.

If they're sitting on a couch at either of their houses, he'll lay his legs on theirs. Him and Tucker will press their feet against the other's and try and push against them (newsflash: Danny always wins, Tucker claims its the ghost strength but Danny's been winning since before his accident)

-

Naturally, both Sam and Tucker know where Danny keeps his weapons on his person, and are allowed to grab them off of him if they need it. His only requirement is that they don't lose his weapons if they take it and forget to return it immediately.

They both understand how big of a thing this is from Danny, and so they do their best to treat his weapons with a lot of respect and care because they know its his way of saying he trusts them.

-

Sam and Tucker are so fond of Danny it's insane. Like fr. That's their goddamn best friend, and they are so protective of him. Emotionally, physically, you name it. They will tear the head off a grown man if they need to, Danny's had scars since he arrived in Amity Park and Sam and Tucker both are going to find the person who put them there and make them pay for it.

One time, Tucker overheard a bunch of upperclass girls speaking nastily about Danny and about the rumors surrounding him, calling him names like 'freak', 'monster', etc. Danny was with him and heard it, and seemingly appeared unbothered by it, even telling Tucker that he was used to such rumors.

Tucker was so furious that hacked into the school system later that night and tanked those girls grades. They were kicked out of their clubs and had to go to mandatory tutoring for the rest of the year. He made sure to leave some way of letting them know it was him who did it.

And Sam doesn't like using her money for things, doesn't like abusing that wealth. So instead, whenever her parents talk bad about Danny, she causes a media incident that has her parents scrambling to deal with. She does something wild, outrageous by her parents' standards.

She heard some boys on the basketball team making fun of Danny once, similar to those girls had. She kicks up a fuss about something eco-unfriendly at school and forcibly holds a protest on the same day of the big home basketball game, forcing them to cancel the event and reschedule to a visiting school.

She anonymously donates money so that there's new uniforms for the team but oops! Looks like she "forgot" to donate enough money for them to get uniforms for all the team members, and strangely enough those boys in particular didn't get them! Looks like they'll have to wait until more money gets donated for the basketball team to get their new, nice uniforms. The old ones look so ratty in comparison, right?

And since the football team gets most of the sport money, that might just take awhile. And if (and when) they kick up a fuss? oops! Off the basketball team you go, :) such unsportsman-like behavior is unfit for the team.

(The only good thing about how corrupt the school system is is that she can use it to her advantage too.)

The both of them know that Danny suspects them for the sudden misfortune falling on these people, but he doesn't call them out on it. He's kinder than he used to be, but not kind enough to vouch for people who speak badly of him. Sometimes, he might just congratulate them on not getting caught.

Because Danny is their wonderful, hurt friend with a "slightly" Blue and Orange Moral code, and enough scars that people have been calling him a criminal (and worse) since he arrived in Amity Park when he was ten. And they'll be damned if he gets hurt anymore.

[presleyluvschris]

Join The Dream

alive!luke patterson x girlbestfriend!reader

a/n: not requested, back after 4 months!

desc luke didnt know you could sing after years of being your best friend

wc - 1.8k

warnings slight cursing, fluff, grammar, not proof read

the door krept open as you got home from school, tossing your grey messy laced converse off of your ankles and sludging your backpack off one of your shoulders and onto the floor.

it was 4:09 pm, you had nothing to do besides an english paper. but that could be done later.

you walk across the kitchen to sit on top of the counter, your nike women's dry-fit socks dangling as you thought about something, anything to do.

reggie and alex were out making flyers for their upcoming band gig on friday, while your best friend luke was probably somewhere in your guest house messing with your dads old music equipment and speakers you had gotten out of some dusty boxes for him a few weeks ago.

what was there to do?

you make a raspberry with your lips.

laundry...done. homework..ish, done. rooms clean...dad didn't get home until 10...

you stare at your mom's piano in the crevice of a large indent in a wall as you hear the air conditioner buzz softly.

the house was dead silent. no one was home.

for some reason, your hands begin to shake and your throat closes up staring at the white keys and grand black figure just sitting feet away, almost feeling like an old friend waiting for you to come back to it again.

after years.

this was the longest you had ever beared to look at it before.

the blank truth was you had completely disregarded the thought of ever playing any musical instrument ever again after your mom had died of cancer four years ago.

especially the piano. especially singing.

it was all the things you and your mom had cherished with each other. everytime you tried to even look at it. all that could replay in the back of your mind was your five-year-old self playing and singing along to "i love you baby", with your mother and you giggling with her.

what was so wrong about it? that you couldn't have that same feeling anymore? you didn't know.

it just hurt. all of it did.

over the years you had become slightly jealous of luke, reggie, and alex for being able to enjoy music like it was a second nature. maybe thats because it used to be yours, too, and your love for music had been taken away. and you felt like you could never get it back.

luke never knew about your passion for music. neither did alex, or reggie. sure, luke had watched you play with your mom as a kid but he never knew that you had the same thriving passion of music that made you feel alive like he did also.

everytime he tried to get you to sing along to one of the songs he had wrote with reggie you just shrugged it off, letting them sing.

because when your mom died, music died too.

in fact, luke had never heard you sing before. not even in the car, the shower, nothing.

but would this be what your mother had wanted? never even singing on the radio just because of memories?

if you were honest, you hadn't been the same person when you gave up music. If you were even more honest, you felt a hole without it.

you decided to get off the counter and slowly creep over to just....look.

not play, of course, no.

just...looking.

just...sitting down at your mom's favorite stool..

just..looking at the keys..

just..feeling them..

breathing...

you flinch when you accidentally hit a note with your finger.

your heart immediately starts pumping and you feel your stomach sink.

technically, you did just...play.

so, technically, accidentally, you could just play another...

on purpose, this time, you press a note, taking in the sound of a piano again like it was something completely new.

again, maybe? just once.

you start to play a few chords, trying to dig back in your brain four years.

you remember of a song called "forever", written by you. when you were 14. a month before your mom passed.

after playing the chords a few times, it comes flooding back to you like a sudden tidal wave.

you start playing them in order, now, and start singing your lyrics.

tears fall down your cheeks and onto the keys as you play the whole song through, singing the chorus, the verse..

you lean back slightly, holding your hands to your chest with a sniffle.

you wipe your eyes, but then jump at the sudden touch of a hand on your shoulder.

you whip your head around, quickly backing away from the stool.

"what the hell!" you gasp, but then realize who it was.

it was luke standing in front of you, now. his expression completely shocked.

it was silent, the only sounds was you trying to catch your breath.

his mouth was practically on the floor.

"y/n l/n."

you swallow, "yeah."

"what the fu-"

you cut him off, and play dumb, "what? i was just-"

you turn your head slightly to look at the piano behind you and then back to him.

"i was just like, messing around, i dunno, it was like- something i came up with..like..uhm..."

"i-i have so many questions." he scoffs, "first, okay? why in the honey bunches of fuck did you never tell me you could...you could..sing like that?"

you take a breath to answer, but he keeps going.

"two." he puts his hands to the back of his head, "since when could you play the piano? what song was that? was it yours? your moms? is this why you've never sang before? why-"

"luke, it-its complicated. i-" you take a breath out and shake your head, "i wrote it when i was 14. secretly. kind of before my mom died."

"why didn't you tell me you could write music?" he almost sounds offended.

"i dont know-- at the time you hadn't even started your band with reggie and alex yet, and that was like..your thing, and i just couldn't handle doing music again!" tears filled the bottom of your eyes as you tried to explain.

he steps towards you, wrapping his strong arms around you, caressing the back of your head as he holds it so his chest, stroking it with his thumb gently.

"shhh, sh. you don't have to explain anymore." his voice is gentle and warm. "i get it. but, music isn't something i own, okay? i wish you would have told me earlier, and i dont know how i didnt notice this before."

a sob accidentally escapes into his chest, and luke feels his heart slowly sink into the floor. he was a tough guy, but he would always let his guard down for you.

he rubs your back in comforting circles, "its okay, yeah? this is a good thing. its a great thing."

he tucks your hair behind your ear, looking down at you as you look up at him with swollen eyes and a slightly runny nose, luke speaking to you in a low and comforting voice. "you are so beyond talented. You know what im thinking?"

you shake your head softly, with a small sniffle.

"you need to be our singer for the band." he looks at you and titls his head like he already knows what you're going to say. "n' before you say no, think about it. you could do it in honor of your mom? y/n, look at you. you have crazy chemistry with a song you haven't even tried playing in years. you could play your keyboard? its waiting for you in the guest house. It would be practically wasting this amazing gift you have. and i cant let you do that. you know it, too."

"luke-" you almost whimper from the thought of playing music...all of the time. not just when you had sudden courage, like..all the time.

"please." he begs, "you dont have to decide or anything right now...just..think about it?" he looks down at you with those same eyes. "for me?" he bites his lower lip with a small smile.

"fine." you barely say. he almost jumps from excitement and hisses in victory before putting his hands on your shoulders and looks at you in the eyes. "you wont regret it."

"luke, what if-" you stop. "what if i fail? like, im not as good as i used to be? i havent even tried writing songs again-"

"from what i heard today? the like, one minute of you just...singing, and playing, was-- like, crazy good and thats more than what regs and alex and i could ever even dream of." he smiles, his dimples peaking out like a deer in headlights, "it would be totally awesome if you could join our band. Like an honor."

as you look at him speak you bite your lips nervously, and let out a shaky "okay."

he towers over you, taking a step closer and looking in both of your eyes, you could feel his warm breath dripping down your neck.

there was a silence as you look into both of his eyes back, smiling back slightly

"there's that smile."

he leans in slightly, you breathing out, and then looking down as your tone becomes quieter.

"we shouldn't do this." you whisper.

he makes you look at him by putting his finger under your chin.

"we definitely shouldn't do this." he breathes, trying not to smile.

"definitely." you say, him matching your expression.

"definitely." his breath catches in the air.

your lips meet his as he gently backs you into a wall, picking your legs up and holding them with his palms up like a feather.

you feel his warm lips lock against yours over and over.

"y/n," he takes a breath out, finally pulling away making a small click sound from your lips seperating.

"yeah?" you gasp for air.

"i love you." he chokes on his words, "i know its soon. i know. you dont have to say it back." he swallows. "i just thought you should know. n' like - its totally cool if-"

"i love you too, luke."

his eyes meet yours again, this time his eyebrows slightly furrowed, "for real?" a smile quickly creeps up on his face.

you gently nod your head as he kisses your lips again once more.

"i-i dont know its like- when i saw you playing, and- it was just-" he pauses, laughing and shaking his head.

"you're so talented. so real. like, down to it, real."

he looks at you with his soft eyes, kissing your forehead.

"your hole's filled now, y/n."

your eyes widen in surpise, "how did you--"

he rolls his eyes and tuts, "cm'on, seriously? i know you better than you know you."

a little smile appears on your face. it really was him all along. he knew after you played again you got the spark in your eyes back that you had when you met him and you were now the same girl he fell in love with all over again since he was ten.

he runs his thumb over your jaw. "that spark, right here?" he puts his hand off your chin and presses a fist gently to your rib. "right there."

"you're back."

you giggle softly, "im back."

divider creds to @benkeibear my nav ★

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.

As A Dog

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,085

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.

Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.

I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!

Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.

He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.

Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.

"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.

He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.

"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"

She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.

He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.

That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.

The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.

His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.

"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.

Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.

"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.

The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.

His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.

"Leave him. He'll be fine."

"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.

"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.

"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.

She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.

"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.

"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.

"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."

That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.

Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.

True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.

When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.

It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.

It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.

The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.

"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."

"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"

He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.

"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.

The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.

She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.

When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.

For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.

By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.

But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...

And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.

She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.

"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.

"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.

He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.

"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."

When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.

She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.

"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.

Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.

"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"

He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.

A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.

There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.

Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.

She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.

When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.

Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..

He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.

"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.

Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.

"Prove it."

She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.

"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.

Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.

By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.

It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.

Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.

"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."

His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.

She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.

In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.

The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.

He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.

"Take that shit off."

Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.

"Suck me." he growled.

While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.

The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.

Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.

"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."

She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.

He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.

It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.

He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.

"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.

The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.

Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.

What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.

He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.

On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.

He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.

"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.

This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.

"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.

Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.

"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.

Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.

Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.

She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.

"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.

As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.

He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.

For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.

Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.

Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.

He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.

Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.

He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.

If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.

His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.

"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.

"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."

"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.

"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."

She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.

"Good girl." he murmured.

[moviestarmartini]

everyone's a winner — jude bellingham x wag!reader x brahim díaz

summary: your boyfriends, both laliga winners and champions league finalists, demand a reward out of you for their two excellent performances in less than a week.

warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), prestablished!brahim x reader (they were dating before jude joined in), jealous!jude, mostly mean dom!jude, soft dom!brahim, oral (m & f receiving), voyeur-ish, unprotected sex (sounds fun but don't!!!), creampie, porn with a lil bit of plot.

wc: 2.1k

A/N: finally did something with these two GAHHHH sorry for any antis that are jude girlies, this is filled with luvvv for my club 😛

The last five days had been insane. 

Starting out on the first Saturday of the month, having to sit around with the entirety of Real Madrid and their families in the Bernabeu’s VIP seats to practice ‘hate watching’ was something you’d ever expected to do. But there you sat pretty next to your official boyfriend, the unofficial one— so to say, was talking to his mother. 

The moment the final whistle rang it felt like the match had been won by them, not Girona. Before you could even breathe out a sigh of happiness, Brahim was swiping you off your feet kissing you with fervor. A familiar tickle in the bottom of your tummy surfaced. 

You watched happily as the team celebrated, taking pictures of both the men who stole your heart. You took a couple pictures with Brahim at the empty stadium, on the grass. Everyone laughed off the way Jude sprinted to your side and held you tight as there were pictures of only the three of you taken. No one but him knew it was a move made out of jealousy. 

But that was it for that day, heading to the comfort of your shared home as rest had been set mandatory. 

On Tuesday morning you drove them both to Valdebebas, each getting a kiss on the forehead as a wife would give her soldier husband heading for war, since you knew you wouldn’t see them after the semi-final match was over. The next almost hundred minutes were cardiac arrest worthy. The VIP sections full of family, friends and special guests suffered through every second and emotion– the euphoria exploding when the two goals imminently arrived– waiting painfully for the final whistle to be blown. Then another considerable amount of time waiting patiently for the players to finish interviews and change into regular clothes. 

You stood marveling at the empty stadium, similar to Jude’s pre-match ritual. But he wasn’t the one who practically tackled you off your feet, hugging you from behind. 

“Brahim!” You giggled as he put you down, turning around to give him a giant squeeze. You didn’t notice the pair of jealous eyes observing you carefully from the tunnel as you took pictures before exiting, his hand on yours, one of the last couples to do so.  

“Where are we going, amor?” You laughed as you ran through the tunnels of the Bernabeu being practically dragged by him. He took a turn to the left, instead of the right to head out to the underground parking lots. He kissed you, and you knew you were stumbling into the empty locker room by the way your steps echoed. 

“Brahim…” You sighed as he leaned in to kiss your neck, taking slow steps towards his station, the light of the name cards above were the only thing guiding your steps. 

“No one’s going to catch us. Everyone’s going home.” He whispered against the skin, clutching you tight as your knees came in contact with the bench, forcing you to take a seat. 

“Exactly, what if we’re locked in here forever?” You tried counterarguing, only for the rational thoughts to turn to mush when his hand pulled your shirt out of the tuck of your bottoms and cupped your breasts. 

“You don’t think winners deserve a prize? First LaLiga title, now we’ve passed on to the final.” He removed the white top, throwing it somewhere in the room as his kisses descended down your torso. He placed open mouth kisses where the midi slip skirt started, slowly tugging it down. 

Your fingers sneaked on his hair, back arching. “That’s what I thought.” He knew the context clues of your body too well. “Déjame probarte, princesa. That’s the best prize anyone could ever get.” He breathed against the soaked piece of underwear, and you raised your hips to help him slide it down to rest at your ankles. He parted your knees, placing open mouth kisses as he made way to your sopping cunt, his tongue pressing flat. 

“Hm you taste so good,” He practically moaned against your core before fully indulging in it. In no time he was slipping two fingers past your entrance, working wonders with them and his tongue flicking the swollen nub. It was enough for both of you not to notice the lights turning on and staying that way before someone cleared their throat. 

“Having fun without me?” 

The voice made you both freeze. Your stomach tightened as you feared to look who did that voice belong to, but your eyes met a pair of brown eyes with a defiant look placed on them. 

“No, go ahead. I’ll just make myself welcome,” He incited, taking slow cautious steps towards you both. “You don’t want to keep our baby unsatisfied?” He cooed, petting Brahim’s hair, the hand on your jaw forcing you to look up at him before he crashed his lips into yours. You sighed in relief feeling Brahim resume his actions, they were quick, good enough for that tension to build on your lower stomach. 

Jude took your hand, parting away from your lips. “That show you two were putting on got me like this,” He puckered out his lips as your hand grazed his bulge. Your mouth watered as he kneeled on the bench, tugging teasingly at the drawstrings of his sweatpants before lowering them. “Where’s my prize, huh? I’m a winner too, remember?” 

Then, you easily understood the glances Jude often gave the two of you as you interacted in public, in front of the cameras. He burned with jealousy at the reality of being unable to show the world how he loved sharing you with his teammate, your only boyfriend at first. 

Brahim looked up at you, giving you a nod of approval. It was just a way to encourage you; you didn’t need permission to please Jude, not when he was part of the relationship. 

You cupped his boner over the black underwear, pulling down at it sweetly. Not wasting any time, you told a hold of his hard cock with your manicured fingers, tongue sticking out to lick the glossy drops that leaked from his tip. You watched as he threw his head back with a groan when you wrapped your lips around his tip. 

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” He praised, turning his head down to watch you take his length inside your mouth, the bit you couldn’t fit getting stroked by your hand once you started bobbing your head, searching to hear those groans loaded with both praise and degradation. 

“She’s getting wetter from giving you head, mate,” Brahim tore himself away from your cunt to give out the fact with a snicker, your juices rolling down the short stubble on his chin. The chuckle both men shared felt sinister, Jude’s hand settling in the back of your head to give support to your pace, similar to the way Brahim’s fingers hooked to hit that spongy spot over and over again. 

“Cum for us, amor, do it.” Brahim breathed out, knowing that the way your calves shivered and your fingers dug into his scalp only signified one thing. Your moans and cries were muffled by Jude’s cock still stuffed down your mouth, soon being torn away from it and being pulled into yet another kiss. 

Brahim sat next to you on the bench, following after Jude’s lead while you continued to stroke him. He broke the kiss, nudging you to kiss your boyfriend, and you did it without a hitch. The way you could taste yourself on him was intoxicating, and the way Jude pulled you in for another sloppy kiss hinted that he could agree, too. 

“You’re mine too, you hear me?” He whispered, the short hairs on his chin tickling the skin of your cheek. 

“Why do you give Judy a ride, princesa?” Brahim almost interrupted, coercing  you with a sweet voice to your ear, soft lips kissing at your jaw. 

“I think that’s not enough for a prize. Let’s not use a condom,” Jude whispered in your left ear, a teasing hand caressing your inner thigh. Your legs parted, eliciting a humiliating reaction out of the men, who snickered between themselves. Their voices felt like having an angel and a devil on each of your shoulders, inviting you to different decisions with a similar outcome. 

“Yeah, let’s do both,” You affirmed with a breathy voice, and without effort Jude took you off the bench to place you on his lap. He didn’t even have to ask you to help him, as you reached down to line him with your entrance, both sighing in relief once he was all the way in. 

“Don’t just sit there.” Jude reprimanded you as you finished getting used to the stretch, wrapping your hair in his fist and tugging you back ever so slightly. You yelped, taking the order and shifting your hips, starting to ride him. 

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Brahim praised you with a coo, watching as you tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. He helped you out, pulling them down before you started to stroke him. He didn’t even realize how pent up he was, a flush running up his neck and up his cheeks. 

You tried to match the movement of your legs to your hand, bouncing on Jude’s cock at the same pace you jerked Brahim off. 

“I think he’s going to need more than that, sweetheart,” Jude tutted, and you wondered if they communicated telephonically as Brahim stood up. You took his hard cock in your mouth without much complaint— actually melting as you sucked, eyes falling shut— while Jude’s grip on your hair controlled the pace. 

“Let me help you out,” Jude ran a soothing hand on your knee, propping himself up on his heels before he started thrusting upwards. “Fuuuck you’re squeezing me so tight, love.” A groan left the back of his throat, and he could tell you were close.

His hand reached around to toy with your clit, and that was more than enough to tip you over the edge, thighs shivering. Your moans were tucked away behind your tongue as it happened earlier. The squeeze your walls gave him seemed to be more than enough to tip him over the edge, ropes of white coating your insides. 

He pulled out, but the adjustment time was minimal, “I need to cum too, love.” Brahim explained with a soft voice as Jude tore you away from him, making your head rest on his shoulder. “Please, let me…” 

You knew very well what he was requesting, and with a hazy smile you nodded. He kissed your neck as he crouched down a little before pushing himself in, groaning at the initial resistance you presented to the penetration due to your recent orgasm. 

“Oh, baby,” You cried out, Jude’s grip in your hair turning into a soothing hand on your cheek. 

“You’ve been doing so good for us, darling. C’mon,” The British national praised softly, a nod from Brahim confirming his statement. 

You were still sitting on his lap, but sandwiched between his chest and Brahim’s. 

The pressure from being between them only furthered that state of haziness your mind found itself in, sweat rolling down your forehead as your boyfriend seemed to be edging on to yet another release. 

“Brahim, baby, I’m not going to last long.” You warned, and he kissed your cheek quickly.

“Me neither princesa, with the way you’re squeezing me…” He managed to breathe out, Jude reaching out to brush the sweaty hair off his forehead. 

“Your legs are shivering, you wanna cum?” Jude mocked you, his fingers yet again pressed on that swollen nub in a way that made your back arch. “Cum for your winners, baby. Do it.” He commanded, and it’s not like you’ve ever not obliged to his instructions. 

You panted out both their names as you chased your last high, good enough to make your toes curl and your eyes water. 

“Mierda, joder—“ Brahim cursed, holding onto your upper thighs and gripping them as his own orgasm caught up to him. He pulled out, collapsing next to the two of you on the bench. You threw your legs to rest on his lap as the three of you sat there, catching your breaths. 

“Dinner at ours?” You asked Jude, brushing his eyebrows into place. Brahim kissed your calf gently.

“You bet,” He kissed your cheek loudly. 

The video of him and Brahim with their windows rolled down, shouting with the fans while you drove the BMW became viral in a matter of hours. Thank god no one knew why you three were the last to leave the stadium, and why the two teammates were leaving together in the first place. 

It had happened too many times for it to be questioned, anyway.

[wosokirby]

Lauren James x Chelsea!reader

“I don’t know what you mean, there’s no flirting going on. It’s just a drink calm down you two”

It wasn’t though.

It was never ‘just’ a drink.

Lauren James x Chelsea! reader

2.7k ish words

Another glass of rosé wine was placed in front of you on the table and you’d have almost missed it appearing if it wasn’t for the grin Erin gave you and the hand squeezing your shoulder.

Looking up above you LJ stood dropping off yet another drink for you almost like your own personal waiter for the evening. She gave you a quick smile before going back to the bar where a few of your team mates were stood.

“God will you two get over this or actually speak to each other” Erin groaned before picking up your new glass and taking a swig.

“Erm excuse me that’s mine thank you”

“You’ve had enough free drinks already!”

“Don’t be jealous you’ve got no friends Erin” you laughed as you took the wine glass out of her hand and setting it back in front of you. “What are you talking about anyway?”

“I don’t think just friends buy drinks all night for each other, and they certainly don’t silently flirt with each other” Erin sighed giving Guro a nudge with her elbow, as she seemed to be pointing out the oblivious, or at least obvious to everyone but you.

“Yes the flirting its so not subtle anymore” Guro agreed with Erin.

“I don’t know what you mean, there’s no flirting going on. It’s just a drink calm down you two”

It wasn’t though.

It was never ‘just’ a drink.

It was four or maybe five drinks tonight… and your dinner that Lauren had paid for before you met up with the rest of the Chelsea team at the busy bar you were now in.

When you think about it LJ did lots of that, a coffee on your pre match walk. A cup of tea was usually waiting for you when you got to training in the morning. A bottle of water after a match or if you were subbed off after her was silently handed to you.

It had all become a habit, so much so that you’d not really noticed it all any more. And when you did you assumed it was just Lauren being nice. Or at least that was what you had convinced yourself it was after you’d lost all hope that the feelings you had for her were reciprocated.

It must have been all in your head that she could feel the same way after you’d not been so subtle with some of the messages you tried to send her way once you realised the feelings were more than just the one you had for your other friends. Lauren was easily your closest person on the team and with the Lionesses. The two of you were always together.

While you spent a lot of that time taking any chance to glance over at Lauren, slightly mesmerised by her in certain moments, particularly on the pitch. Her talent could be seen by anyone with eyes, but not many people saw more than that. LJ is a private person she didn’t tell anyone much, unless you were a close friend, about her love life. Not that she found much time for that anyway. Training, the gym and focussing on all things football were her priorities.

Still she found time for you, afternoons and evenings were often spent at one of your places or in each others hotel rooms. Chatting, extra training, trash tv watching all just seemed to make the time go by far too quickly for your liking. You truly enjoyed every second you spent with Lauren, it was becoming more difficult to put your feelings aside but you knew it was important for your friendship that you didn’t let it slip. Lauren confessing her feelings or just sweeping you up after a goal celebration and kissing you remained just day dreams that kept you up when you were apart.

She didn’t feel the same, she couldn’t. She would have told you by now, you are each others best friend and no secrets were kept from you. So you were content as much as you could be with what you got, a couple of drinks and the occasional present she picked up just because it made her think of you would be enough for you.

But the candles that were beginning to take over your flat, the soft blankets she knew you could never have enough of and the cuddly kangaroo that sat on your bed every day, as a memory from the World Cup were treasured possessions for you. But just presents from one friend to another you thought.

“Leave it, please” It was not the most convincing argument to put forward to the girls who were at the very least bored of your pinning after your team mate.

“No it’s something you can’t ignore now, you need to speak to Lauren or we’ll make you” Erin boldly stated still with a bit of a smirk on her face letting you know it was at least a bit entertaining to wind you up.

“Make me by doing what guys? There’s nothing to say even if I did like Lauren, which I don’t, it’s not like she would be the same. She just sees me as a friend.”

“Oh come on that’s not true and you know that” Erin exclaimed, taking the lead on the pre planned conversation her and Guro were now launching on to you. They had encouraged each other to ask the both of you what was going on, and maybe with you a few drinks down they could push you and Lauren together.

“I’m going to the toilet, back in a min” You say pushing yourself back in your chair and leaving the table before they could say anything otherwise.

After weaving through the crowd you realised just how many drinks you had consumed that night, as you sat down you could feel the room swaying a little.

Still feeling a little lightheaded you wandered back through to the table, and after rounding a corner you bumped into a figure muttering a sorry before realising who it was.

“It’s alright it’s just me” Lauren said. She had caught hold of your arm to catch you before you had the chance to fall and her hand had come up to rest on your waist, resting on the skin in between your crop top and jeans, as she spoke to you.

“Are you ok? I just came to check on you”

“I’m fine I just think I’ve had a bit more to drink than I realised. I might need to sit down” you laughed. It wasn’t like you were falling over drunk but you were feeling the effects of those drinks Lauren had so kindly got you.

“C’mon then” LJ turned to walk back to where you had been sat before and you followed. The bar was pretty dimly lit and crowded, to keep track of you Lauren reached behind and held her hand out for you to hold. She led you through to the table and pulled out your chair, once you were sat she crouched down with her hand still holding yours.

“I’ll get you some water do you want anything else?”

You shook you head and Lauren left you at the table, you weren’t alone for long as Erin and Guro now joined by Sam and Millie took the opportunity to pounce on you.

“Why don’t you just tell your girlfriend you love her?” Sam teased from the other side of the table while the others giggled. It was harmless teasing and you all knew it wasn’t meant to offend you, it just cut a bit close to home this time.

“LJ told me you went on a date with her earlier you know” Millie said, glancing over her shoulder to check that LJ wasn’t within earshot.

“Ooooh” was the collective sound that came from the rest of the group who seemed to have never heard any gossip more exciting than this as they squealed in delight at Millie’s news.

“Alright, I think that’s me done for the night. Stop shit stirring guys” you laughed along with them, moving round the table you hugged each of them and said a quick goodbye promising to catch up again at training on Monday.

“Sorry it took a while” LJ said placing a glass of water into your hand when you met her near the bar. You downed the water appreciating the gesture. “You heading out?” She asked noticing the bag on your shoulder.

“Yeah I’m shattered, and them lot are getting annoying” you pointed behind you at the girls still giggling away.

“I’ll book an Uber now” She said pulling out her phone.

“No it’s alright I’ll book it, you picked me up on the way, on the way to our date…” you trailed off. You weren’t fully sure if Millie had been joking and feeling quite tipsy you maybe were letting the teasing get to you. You looked at Lauren whose attention had now been turned away from her phone. “Let’s just go it’s loud in here”

LJ took your hand and like she had earlier led you through the bar and outside, she still had her phone in her hand ready to book an Uber to collect you both before you could argue with her.

“You really should let me pay for something at some point you know Lauren” you sighed with a smile as the two of you stepped outside. “Never” LJ smirked holding the door open for you.

“I’d feel much better if you just let me take you home”

“Only if you come back with me then, I get lonely without you”. You said leaving against her, resting your head on her should for a brief moment.

LJ nodded and confirmed she’d booked just one cab to go to your address already, like she already knew what you’d ask her to do. You weren’t waiting for too long it wasn’t a weekend or too late so you were thankful when the car pulled up and LJ spoke to the driver before opening the rear door for you. You climbed in the car shuffling through as far as the middle seat so LJ could slide in next to you without walking round the car.

The window was cracked down slightly letting in a breeze that seemed to help you sober up but the tiredness was setting in. A hand rested on your leg giving your thigh a squeeze, when you turned to look at LJ she was already looking right at you. You weren’t sure if it was the eye contact or the the close proximity that made your stomach do little flips. She had this effect on you a lot more than you’d want to admit. You moved your hand to rest on top of hers giving it a reassuring nudge as she moved it slightly further up and into your inner thigh.

‘Fuck’ you thought, was this really happening? Suddenly you were no longer feeling so tired. You gave a small smile to Lauren that she returned, her eyes glancing down to your lips and back up. The car slowed down as it rounded a corner and you glanced away and out of the front window of the car to see that you were just round the corner from your flat. Once you had thanked the driver you followed LJ out of the car and took her hand as she watched you get out of the car.

Fumbling through your bag for your keys you walked towards the main door for your flat, once you had found them and opened the door you looked behind you to LJ who stood close by. This time as you lead her inside and up the couple of flights of stairs you took the lead and reached for her hand first, you didn’t need her to take you through a crowd just simply to be there. Opening up your door walking through to your lounge you let Lauren shut and lock the door as she quickly follows you.

Flopping down into the corner seat of your sofa you kicked off your shoes and relaxed into the seat, glad to be back home. “Comfy?” LJ said as you sat almost laying down, you could feel her sit next to you getting close once again. “Very, I could fall asleep now” you murmured your eyes closed.

“We should go to bed then”

“Give me a min”

Sitting in what was comfortable single for a few moments grew to another tension filled moment just like there had been in the taxi. When you slowly opened your eyes LJ was looking down at her hands, you gave in to what felt right and moved forward to slip your hand into hers. She moved one of her hands to link with yours and cupped your hand with both of hers still looking down at them.

It was such a comfort you, the soft touch of her hand against yours. It wasn’t just a joke what the girls had said at the bar, it was a date and it really could be that Lauren liked you back. You could feel all of that being expressed just by the physical contact you shared. You had to take that leap and say it. Lauren was the more shy of the two of you so really if you didn’t say it now you weren’t sure she’d be ready to take to leap first.

“Will you kiss me, please?” You spoke softly, almost afraid that if you spoke to loudly, to harshly it would scare her away or disrupt the moment. For no longer than a few seconds, yet it felt like an age, your team mate and best friend sat there not moving away but also not moving to fulfil your ask. It wasn’t often LJ didn’t do want you asked her to, she went out of her way to do a lot for you, to make you happy and smile. But you couldn’t doubt that it was what she wanted too.

Especially not when she turned her head to you, her hands leaving yours as she budged closer to you to sit almost in between your legs leaving some small distance between you and her. You leant forward meeting her in the small gap and she looked straight at you, taking the sight of you in before leaning in her eyes closing and her lips connecting with yours as you did the same.

It was a soft kiss, gentle as her lips moved against yours. It wasn’t just a peck on the lips, you were grateful she put some real effort into the kiss. You sighed quietly into the kiss as Lauren moved you towards her with her hands coming to rest against you, sitting on your hips. She gently pushed you down against the sofa as she leaned over you, while not disconnecting your lips once. One of the arms came to rest above your head holding her up, she moved back to allow you both to breathe for a second.

A quick kiss pressed against her lips as a small giggle passed from your lips as she smiled, that smile you loved to see, a smile you felt so lucky to see more than anyone else got to.

“I’m not sure if I expected that to happen tonight or not” Lauren admitted “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time”.

“Have you really?” You asked tentatively almost still afraid that if you spoke to loudly it would all disappear.

“For so long, I’ve had to stop myself from doing it almost every time we’ve been together lately” She confessed.

“Looks like we’ve got plenty of lost time to make up” You said and pulled her back down for another long kiss.

..

..

..

..

..

..

Hi, this is the first time I’ve ever really written anything like this but I thought I’d give it a go finally after thinking about it for a long time 😂

hope you enjoyed!

[cottonlemonade]

Hiii!! I want to send a request but before that ofc i first want to say how i love your works, love how there's another writer for us chubby readers and espc in haikyuu☹️🫂🗣️🫶🏼 i hope you continue to grace us💘🩷

and off to my request if you will 🙇🏽‍♀️ thank you!!!!

for issei, a large *to* medium green apple with a slice of lemon😁

The Coziness Of Storagerooms

word count: 882 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Issei Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff-ish smut

warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, also spoilers

request: fluffy-spicy, jealous boyfriend Mattsun

Was he jealous? Absolutely not. Would he shoot the Argentinian captain to the moon or feed him to a business of ferrets when he touched your arm like that to ensure a slow and miserable death? In a heartbeat.

The Seijoh 4 were attending a small benefit gala upon invitation of their former captain. Oikawa and the Argentinian national team were currently in Japan for a tournament and would spend their time greasing palms of potential investors and, theoretically, Issei had been looking forward to tonight - hanging out with his friends in a fancy suit, having good food and most importantly, getting to show you off to absolutely anyone with eyes. When he picked you up earlier he had spent a full five minutes taking pictures of you from every angle, all stunning in your evening gown, perfectly wrapping around your generous curves. If it wouldn‘t have been for Oikawa, he honestly would have just stayed in and ravished you in that dress. Unfortunately (although not surprisingly), you caught the eyes of one of Oikawa‘s teammates and the tall handsome man had been glued to your side ever since. And because his girlfriend was completely oblivious to his advances, you simply laughed along and took his flirting for simple curiosity. Issei really didn‘t want to be that guy that got all macho and marked his territory but… the alternative was watching his gorgeous girl being charmed at the buffet by some other guy and not even realizing it! He shouldn‘t stoop this low. He shouldn‘t turn into some kind of caveman and drag you away. You were strong and smart and could look after yours- did he just touch your ass?! Okay, fuck this, caveman it would have to be.

“Found you.“, a deep familiar voice said behind you. You sighed in relief. That guy was getting way too close for your liking. You turned to Issei, gratefully linking your arm with his.

“You wanna go get some fresh air, baby?“ With a small polite nod to the Argentinian captain you let your boyfriend lead you away.

“Thank you.“, you let out when you exited the large gala hall. You hadn‘t even noticed how stuffy it was in there. Wanting to veer right towards the big glass doors into the venue‘s courtyard you were surprised when Issei instead pulled you to the left and down a corridor.

“Where are you going?“, you laughed, trying to keep up with his long strides while in heels, but the arm around your hips kept you steady.

Issei opened a door here and there until, “Ah, now this looks cozy.“

It was a storage room for extra chairs and tables. Only a bit of moonlight trickled through a small rectangular window near the ceiling, barely illuminating the room enough to make out more than shapes.

“Gee, I wonder what you want to do here.”, you chuckled and let him lift you onto one of the tables.

Trapped between his strong arms on either side of you, you hummed happily when his lips found yours. For a while he only kissed you, getting needier not long after you started.

“Lay back.”, he panted, holding the back of your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

Seeing you all pretty on the table like that fried the last few rational thoughts that were trying to get his attention.

Issei walked to the end of the table and slowly pushed up your dress, disappointed that the dim silvery light didn’t allow him to fully appreciate your panties. But he did grin when his large hand wandered up your thigh and he felt how wet you were for him.

“Mmh, look at you. How perfect you are, babygirl.”

You seemed to expect him to simply pull the fabric aside but he had other plans. After regaining some sense of reality he stopped squeezing your thighs and hooked his fingers into the band of your panties, pulling them off completely.

“Babe, what are you… ah… you can’t just…”, you moaned.

“Why? You don’t need them.”, Issei said calmly, tucking your underwear into his pocket. He pulled you closer to him, leaned down and began to devour you. There was no teasing, no build up, he just. needed. to taste you.

“Ah… oh my god… nghh, ah! Issei! Yes! Oh my god, don’t stop!” The high pitched pleas from your lips made him grip you tighter, his strong fingers digging into your flesh as his tongue pushed and played and flicked every inch of your pussy he could have at once. You reached down to grab his hair, pulling him even closer and he was pretty sure he could die of happiness right now.

With his relentless stimulation it didn’t take long until you came over his tongue. He greedily lapped up everything you gave him, giving your swollen clit a couple more harsh sucks, before standing up.

“Is it okay if I fuck you, baby?”, he asked, still entirely drunk on you.

Issei could just make out that you gave a little nod.

“Use your words.”, he groaned, lifting your ankle to his lips to give it a kiss.

“Yes, please… please fuck me. I need you.”, you managed to breathe out in a desperate whisper.

“Thank you, princess.”

a/n: thank you for the request and your kind words! Y’all are being so cute 🥹✨ this one also got a bit away from me 😂 please enjoy!

[cstlji]

friday nights || byun baekhyun

1:34 AM 250424 

word count: longer than i expected

pairing: byun baekhyun x reader (ft. im changkyun)

description: baekhyun ignores you for an entire week, and you don't know why.

genre: bestfriends to lovers!au, jealous!baekhyun, mutual pining, angst-ish, fluff after lmao

a/n: kinda rushed ending (?) lmk if you guys want a part 2 or a longer version!

You and Baekhyun have been best friends ever since you both got stood up by your dates on prom night. You vividly remember Baekhyun's reaction as your dates began making out in the middle of the dancefloor, leaving you both partnerless — and almost miserable. So, you invited him that exact moment to ditch the night and have some fun of your own, basically and invitation to sit on the gutter as you eat your melting ice cream.

But, that was a story for another time - now you’re in your third year of college. Your friendship’s been that long, and you swore, the last time you checked, the platonic energy between the both of you was almost tangible. Although you had a moments when romantic thoughts about him invaded your mind.

You swore it were mere milliseconds, though – and that you didn't think about how his hands could perfectly fit in yours and, how sweet his lips would've tasted like. Nothing of that sort, really. You knew that the both of you were awfully platonic, and nothing more. You didn't want to entertain thoughts of you and him together romantically, because it would never happen. Plus, you went out on a date last week.

You and Changkyun were totally hitting it off. And you would've told Baekhyun about him, but he's been ignoring you for the past 5 days. No calls, texts, nothing. Everytime you'd visit him on his breaks, he's always be out, or busy, or just not in the mood — which rarely happened.

So, you planned to corner him into telling you what's wrong. You really had no clue, but you've got a feeling that it had something to do with you. It was your break, and you checked your phone for Baekhyun's schedule. You both exchanged schedules the beginning of the semester, which is also probably why he'd been successful in avoiding you.

There was an overlap between your schedules. His class would end at around the same time as yours would start. But you were really determined to know what the hell's wrong you could just be late to class for a couple of minutes. And after a long, painful wait — catch him, you did.

He walked out with two of his friends, who you knew as Minseok and Jongdae. It was Minseok who spotted you first. He called Baekhyun and pointed at your direction.

"Hey, Y/N." Minseok waved at you, and so did Jongdae. You smiled and waved back as Baekhyun's eyes widened.

"Go on first, I'll catch up later." He told his friends, his eyes avoiding your gaze. The two walked off after saying goodbye.

"What are you doing here?" Baekhyun held your arm, gently pulling you to the side.

"You were avoiding me for a week, what's up?" You asked, eyeing him carefully. He reached to the nape of his neck. He removed his cap, fixed his hair, and put it back again.

"I... wasn't avoiding you," he said, still avoiding your eyes. You weren't convinced, so you pulled his face to meet yours.

"There, see!" you exclaimed, "you avoided my eyes again. What's wrong, Baek?"

"Nothing," he muttered. He glanced down his wristwatch, and urged you to move. "You're literally five minutes late to your class, get moving dumbass."

"No, I'm not leaving 'til you tell me what's wrong. Is it something I said? or did? Or, like, did something happen to your family? Come on, talk to me, don't shut me out like this."

You were honestly nervous, you feared that the friendship you had would be gone in a blink if you didn't do this.

Baekhyun sighed, and met your eyes. You heart dropped to your stomach. It felt different from his usual teasing glints, there were hints of longing. His eyes glossed a little, eyes bloodshot red. You immediately reached to his face, and his eyes closed and he leaned to your touch.

"Baek," you sighed softly, "have you not been sleeping?"

"Mmhm," Baekhyun hummed, hand on top of your hand on his cheek. "Let's...talk later." His eyes met yours this time.

You nodded with a soft, gentle smile. "Of course. Come over later? Let's watch a movie tonight." Your thumb ghosted over his cheek.

"But that's for Friday?"

You swore you saw Baekhyun frown a little from the loss of touch as you retreat your hand from his cheek, but you decided you were just crazy and that it wasn't like that.

You shrug, hands on your pocket. "We could do it like, two days earlier, it's fine."

"Why? So you could ditch on me and go on a date again?" He blurted out.

You audibly gasp, earning stares from passerbys. Your hand flew to your open mouth. "What do you mean? I didn't ditch you, I asked you if it was okay and you said yes!"

"I didn't!"

"You did! I even have the text messages here if you need refreshments, dude."

"Don't dude me, Y/N," Baekhyun groaned, rubbing his face roughly. It was an a look of frustration, and you felt it was directed to you.

"Is this why you're mad at me? Because you thought I ditched you?" Your voice slightly trembled. Now you were frustrated and confused.

"No!" he abruptly said, "No, I'm - I'm not mad at you, I just, Friday nights are for us," You internally winced, because you took that in way that isn't how friends should take it as.

"And you — "

"Baekhyun-ah!" You both looked at the direction of the voice. It was Junmyeon who called out with a smile as he approached you. "Oh hey, Y/N, what's up?"

You smiled and tried to push the argument you just had at the back of your mind. "Hi, oppa."

Baekhyun sighed, "What's wrong, hyung?"

"I couldn't find Chanyeol, he told me he'd be with you." Junmyeon's lips parted a lottle, "Did I interrupt you guys?"

"Yeah, we're kinda bu—" You interrupted Baekhyun.

"We just finished talking, oppa," you glance at your watch to avoid Baekhyun's intense gaze. "I have to get to class, I'm suuuper late. See you later!" You waved Junmyeon goodbye, and turned away quickly.

You hear Baekhyun call to you as the distance grew farther. You didn't want to lose Baekhyun over a fight like this, especially when you thought of him in a different light yet again.

~ • ~

Baekhyun's heart broke a little as he looked at you walk away. He let out a heavy sigh as he massaged his eyebrows.

Junmyeon noticed. "Are you good?"

Baekhyun looked up at him and nodded yes. Junmyeon was not convinced though, but he decided not to push it. "Come on, let's meet them."

Baekhyun stayed silent. He moved on autopilot, basically just following Junmyeon's footsteps — but not before looking back to the place you once stood at.

The guys laughed loudly in the middle of the restaurant. Baekhyun and Junmyeon settled down, "Did you get food already?" asked Junmyeon.

"We ordered pasta and pizza, you could order more if you want to, though," Minseok said. "It's Jongdae's treat for missing the last get together."

"Nice."

The guys continued to talk, and joke around. Food kept arriving at their table, and everyone dug in except Baekhyun. He was staring at nothing, just picking on his food with a fork.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Jongin nudged Baekhyun. He looked up, and forced a smile.

"Yeah, of course." There was a moment of silence before Chanyeol broke the ice.

"You guys remember Changkyun?” He asked. Baekhyun’s ears perked up, the name was familiar. Too familiar, in fact. His eyebrows knitted tightly, he couldn’t help it.

“What about him?” Sehun popped a fry in his mouth. Lay tilted his head slightly.

“He’s throwing a party tonight, he invited us.”

“What’s his business inviting us? We don’t even know him,” Baekhyun bitterly spat and did not go unnoticed by his friends.

Chanyeol and Junmyeon exchanged glances with Kyungsoo, who sighed and said, “We can just not go, it’s not a big deal.”

Baekhyun just drew a big sigh and ruffled his hair. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He’d been so bothered about you dating other guys, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t even tell it to you directly.

After all, you both agreed on staying strictly platonic after having witnessed your sister and her then bestfriend get married and divorced on the same year.

“What’s with you, Hyung? You rarely act this way,” Jongin asked, eyes full of concern.

Sehun snickered, “He always acts this way whenever a certain someone’s involved.”

Minseok hummed in agreement. Baekhyun groaned as Kyungsoo spoke, “You mean Y/N?”

“Precisely,” Sehun confirmed with a smirk.

“Aren’t you strictly platonic?” Jongdae asked.

“Yes.” Sadly.

“Huh, so why are you jealous?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I am not jealous.” Lie.

“You definitely are.”

“I’m not.” Yes, he was.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“What?” Yes.

“You do!”

“What are you even —“

“Someone’s got a crush —!”

“I—“

“Just admit it, Hyung!”

“N —“

“Baekhyun —“

“I love her, damn it!”

Silence filled the table. Everyone suddenly laughed out loud after his outburst — they knew you got Baekhyun fucked up in the head and they love to see it.

Now, Baekhyun’s admitted it and there was no going back. He had avoided saying it for the longest time for the fear of it “coming true” when he knew that he had no say in his feelings from the get-go.

“Just tell her, confess, do something,” Kyungsoo said.

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Would you rather lose her to Changkyun?” Lay suddenly spoke up. Baekhyun looked at him, and he knew his hyung made a point. He had to do something.

~ • ~

Time went by fast, and it's been two days since you last saw Baekhyun. Still, no calls nor texts from Baekhyun. You were beginning to doubt your decision of avoiding the conversation — you start to think that you should've let him finish talking before walking out like that.

Is he gonna drop by tonight? It's literally friday, its — its your movie night. Or is he never gonna talk to you, and you end up losing the love of your life?

Wait, no. He's your bestfriend, so you love him, right? Its that kind of love that's purely platonic, isn't it? Plus, you had a date! And you totally hit it off, you swore to god.

Okay, maybe you lied. You and Changkyun were bonding over relationship traumas instead of building up a new relationship. You both had a cup of sweet tea, but the conversations you had left a bitter taste in both your mouths.

Changkyun also mentioned someone he liked, and was in fact, asking for advice. That's why you both set another date for tomorrow, solely for the sake of advices. Besides, you also enjoyed complaining to him about Baekhyun's annoying habits that you secretly liked.

You then pace back and forth, probably hyperventilating and on the verge of another panic attack. You bite on your nails as you watched a late night game show, or atleast tried to watch.

You couldn't focus on it. You sat down, your knees bounced up and down. So you stood, but you kept pacing back and forth. And you'd look at the television, but would later find yourself starting at the clock. You were so immersed that you failed to notice the numerous missed phone calls.

Until the door bell rang. You sprinted towards the door, opened it in one motion.

And there he was, holding a bouquet of roses. He offered a sheepish smile, and offered up the bouquet.

You didn't even realize you've been holding your breath 'til you saw him on your doorstep. You immediately engulfed him with a hug, your tears threatening to spill.

He hugged you back as he buried his face at the crook of your neck. You missed his scent, so much.

You pulled away, "I - I thought you wouldn't — "

He cut you off, "Don't go."

You look at him, confused. You wipe your tear-stained cheeks, settling your hands on his biceps. "What? What do you mean?"

"On that date," he said, eyes intensely on yours. "Don't go on that date, please."

"Well, that's for tomorrow still, I —"

"No, you don't understand. I," Baekhyun took a deep breath. "I don't just mean tonight. I mean, don't ever go on a date with another man. Please."

You were speechless as you watched Baekhyun frown in thought, trying to compose what he wanted to say.

“I,” he paused. He looked his shoes, and licked his lips in anticipation. “I get livid when I think of another man touching you, or holding your hands, and the mere thought of you kissing someone else makes me go insane, you have no idea.

“My heart races when our fingers touch, and I can’t help but want to kiss you when you do something childish. Or when you cry because of a stupid movie — I want to grow old with you, sit under a tree and watch as our children run across the fields. I — I love you. For the longest time, I’ve loved you. I love you, Y/N.”

You were speechless and shaking. Here was the man you longed for, confessing his love to you — and you couldn’t believe it. Your jaw drops, and he looked at you with great intent.

“I love you, too,” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You dumb idiot, what took you so long? I kept it all in, I waited for you for so long! I —“

He captured your lips with his in the softest way possible. A moment lingers as he pulled away,

“I’m sorry for making you wait, Y/N. I —“

You pull him back in, deepening the kiss as you hook your arms around his neck — bodies flushed against each other. He dropped the bouquet, and put his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“Shut up and kiss me, baby.” You said in between breaths and kisses.

[kiarastromboli]

𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: jealous!reader, stalker!Matt, just a bit suggestive 🤏🏼

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Y/N will meet Sarah, who doesn't seem to particularly please her, and after spending the morning waiting for him, our two main characters will finally be able to enjoy their dates together.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I know the really spicy part takes time to arrive, but don't worry, it's coming soon.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝟑:

Here we are, Saturday.

This morning when I woke up, I was in high spirits. I was going to spend my day with her, well, at least half of my day, given that I still had to work this morning.

Last night, I had a lot of trouble falling asleep; I couldn't stop thinking about today and how it would go. I was apprehensive, expecting both the best and the worst, but I really didn't know what to expect. Even though she had made advances, Caleb, her so-called friend, had clearly hinted that he also wanted the place I coveted.

So naturally, I spent my night on social media trying to find Caleb's accounts to learn more about him. And to be honest, it wasn't very difficult to find.

"Caleb_the.1, seriously?" I thought when I found his Instagram account. This guy was so self-centered it almost made me want to vomit.

His bio consisted of bro-ish phrases to show that he was an alpha athlete above the others, it was ridiculous to the point of being laughable. How can you hang out with this kind of guy, y/n? Seriously, aren't you ashamed?

Scrolling through his profile, I found about fifteen shirtless photos of him, of course, it goes without saying. And honestly, it's not very prudent of him to expose his life so much on social media. In less than five minutes, I knew which gyms he frequented, his favorite restaurants, and all the places he liked to go daily, giving me the opportunity to learn a little more about him.

But for now, he'll have to wait. My priority is y/n, and I'll deal with his case after our appointment.

"You're late!" Sarah said to me when I arrived at the bookstore.

"Sorry, traffic was jammed this morning," I lied. I didn't have an excuse; I was late only because I spent an extra 20 minutes scrolling through Caleb's profile this morning to learn more.

"Matt, since when does traffic matter to you when you're on your bike??" she said, confused.

"It's none of your business, Sarah, stop asking me questions," I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah, you're lucky I'm your friend; otherwise, I would've fired you!" she said before turning around and going back to her tasks.

It's true; I'm lucky to have a friend like Sarah. I probably don't think enough about thanking her.

I went back to my post and continued my morning, chatting a bit with her; there weren't many customers today.

"Matt, you're lying; you're not going to tell me you've never thought about that before!" Sarah said, shocked that I've never had any weird fantasies about a celebrity.

"No, never, and I find it weird that you were obsessed with Zac Efron until the end of high school!" I said, laughing.

"First of all, I wasn't obsessed! I just had a little crush on him, and secondly, everyone had a crush on that guy back then!" she said, justifying herself.

Meanwhile, I hadn't noticed, but someone had entered the shop at that moment.

"Yeah, in middle school, Sarah, not in high school!" I replied, laughing.

"Screw you, Matty!" she said, chuckling and giving me a light push.

We were interrupted by the voice of a newcomer behind us.

"Hey," she said, her voice a bit sharp.

I immediately turned around, recognizing y/n's voice.

But something was different; her voice wasn't as gentle as usual, and I couldn't see her usual smile.

"Oh, hi, y/n," I replied, smiling.

"Um, this is Sarah, my colleague. I didn't know you'd come so soon," I said, scratching my neck.

"Hi," Sarah said, smiling and extending her hand.

"I've got my hands full, sorry," y/n said to Sarah, giving her some sort of fake smile.

"Yeah, I thought I'd come a little earlier to bring you some coffee," y/n said, turning to me.

"Oh, um, thanks, you didn't have to," I said timidly.

"No, of course, I insist. It's the least I can do after you gave me a ride home last time!" she said, casting a fleeting glance at Sarah.

I'm not sure what game she's playing, but I don't get the feeling she likes Sarah too much.

"Yeah, well, I'll leave you guys. I still have a lot of work. Matt, don't linger too long; we still have to do inventory," Sarah said before leaving us.

A brief silence ensued before I decided to speak.

"It's really nice of you to get the coffee, y/n," I said, smiling.

"It's nothing, I got you a decaf," she said, handing me my coffee.

"Wow, wait, this is my favorite. How did you know—" I started to say before she cut me off.

"Just lucky, I guess," she said, smiling.

Maybe this girl knows me a little better than I thought. I thought I was harder to read than that.

"Well, thank you very much. I finish in 2 hours. If you want, you can browse the bookstore while you wait for me," I said.

"That works out perfectly; I was in the mood to read today," she said, smiling before heading off to explore the bookstore.

It was nice working with her around. We exchanged little glances, and most of the time, she would smile at me.

Honestly, I could get used to working under these conditions.

"Matt, focus. I don't mind you having your friends over here, but I can't handle the customers and inventory all by myself!" Sarah said, getting annoyed, interrupting yet another exchange of glances with y/n.

"Sorry, if you want, I'll take care of the inventory and close the shop today," I said, trying to make amends.

"Okay, but hurry up. We have 45 minutes left before closing, and there's still a stack of books in the back room," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back before I went to do what I needed to do in the back room.

POV of Sarah:

I watched Matt walk into the back room, smiling and shaking my head. How could I stay mad at him after all?

Anyway, I headed back to the counter to tidy up the things lying around when I noticed Matt's friend heading towards the back room.

"Hey, sorry, but you can't go in there," I said, stopping her in her tracks and pointing to the sign on the door that specified "Employees Only."

She stopped and turned to face me.

"Sasha, right?" she said, crossing her arms.

"It's Sarah," I replied.

"Yeah, whatever, Sarah. Have you had feelings for Matt for a long time?" she asked, catching me off guard.

"W-what?" I said, furrowing my brows.

"Let's not play this little game, please. It's not going to work with me. You and I both know you have a huge crush on him, and frankly, it's pathetic. You can see he's not interested in you, so I suggest you keep your distance and let those who actually have a chance take theirs," she said, staring me in the eyes.

I didn't even know how to respond. I couldn't deny it; everything she had just said was true. But there were much better ways to say it.

There was something off about this girl. She had this threatening air about her towards me when I hadn't done anything to her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go join Matt," she said, before striding off and pushing through the door without giving me a chance to say anything.

Back to Matt's POV:

I heard the door open, thinking it was Sarah coming to say goodbye.

"What, already? It's closing time, and I haven't finished the inventory yet!" I said before seeing y/n appear.

"Oh, it's you," I said, a bit surprised because she had no reason to be here.

"Yeah, I asked Sarah if I could come give you a hand," she said, smiling.

"And she said yes?" I asked, surprised because Sarah is usually strict about the rules, so it would have been strange for her to let y/n in without any objections.

She paused for a moment as if she was taking time to think before answering me.

"No," she said, chuckling, "I waited for her to turn her back before sneaking in here," she confessed, and I laughed.

"I feel like you're going to get me into trouble," I said, smiling.

"Come on, it's not like I'm going to steal any books. Plus, I think it's stupid to restrict access; it's just a back room," she said, rolling her eyes.

"And honestly, I find your colleague rather annoying," she said before covering her mouth.

"Sorry, I spoke before thinking," she said, embarrassed, and I chuckled at her action.

I couldn't help but find it cute.

"Firstly, access is restricted because there are some pretty old books here, the kind that should absolutely not be touched unless you're a professional," I began to explain.

"And secondly, yes, Sarah can be annoying, I'll give you that, but she can also be really nice. I'm sure you'd get along great with her," I said, continuing to do the inventory.

"We'll see about that later. For now, let me help you with all this so we can finally go for a ride on the bike," she said, chuckling before coming to help me.

With y/n's help, I managed to finish the inventory just in time for closing.

As we were about to leave the back room, Sarah shot me a look and nodded towards a section of the bookstore, indicating she wanted to talk to me privately.

"I'm going to do one last round in the aisles just to make sure everything's in order before closing. Wait for me here," I said to y/n, realizing Sarah wanted to talk to me alone.

I walked over, and she pulled me a bit further into the bookstore to ensure y/n couldn't overhear us.

"Hey, what's going on?" I said, chuckling.

"Listen, Matt, I'm your friend, and as such, I can't keep this to myself, you understand?" she began, confusing me.

"Your friend y/n, or whatever she is to you, I don't trust her. You shouldn't hang out with her; that girl is really weird," she said.

Here we go.

Seriously, Sarah, instead of being happy for me, you're having a jealousy fit?

"Okay, I don't know where you're going with this, Sarah, but y/n is a great person, and I won't let you badmouth her just because you're jealous," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Jealous? Matt, she threatened me earlier, specifically telling me to stay away from you! I'm not jealous!" she said, getting annoyed.

My y/n do something like that?

It's not possible; she's way too kind and gentle to threaten someone. I knew Sarah had a crush on me, but I didn't think it was to the point where she'd throw a jealousy fit as soon as I was with another woman.

It disappoints me to see her acting this way; I thought we were past that.

"Whatever you say. I'm done with this," I said, rolling my eyes before turning to leave, but she grabbed my arm.

"If you don't want to believe me, that's your problem, but I'm telling you, Matthew, there's something strange about that girl. You should stay on your guard," she said before letting go of my arm and going to collect her things to leave the bookstore.

I stood there for a moment, feeling confused, before joining y/n.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, ready to go?" I asked her, returning her smile, and she nodded.

Once the bookstore was closed, y/n and I hit the road before stopping at Central Park.

"Central Park, you couldn't have found a more cliché place," she said, chuckling once she removed her helmet.

"I thought it was the company that mattered, not the place," I said, pretending to be offended.

"Okay, don't start, Matt!" she said, pointing her finger at me, and I smiled.

"You know what, there's a pretty nice museum nearby. Let's go there," she suggested.

"So, no stroll in the park," I said, putting on a falsely sad face.

"We'll do that after your park stroll, idiot. Come on, follow me," she said, rolling her eyes.

We walked for a few minutes before finding ourselves in front of the museum she mentioned.

We entered and strolled around, observing the artworks. It was at this moment that I learned something new about y/n—she's been passionate about photography since she was a child.

We spent a good two hours in the museum, chatting about everything and anything. We almost forgot that lunchtime had long passed.

"Oh my God, it's 1:30 in the afternoon, and we still haven't eaten," she said, chuckling when she checked the time on her phone after leaving the museum.

"Really?" I asked, surprised, and she nodded.

"That's your fault; you talk way too much," I said, chuckling.

"Yeah, like you don't love that," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her, smiling.

"A little, and you?" she said, looking me in the eyes.

"A bit," I replied, shrugging.

"Hmm..." she hummed thoughtfully, scanning the surroundings.

"Look, a hot dog stand!" she said excitedly, pointing at the stand before grabbing me by the arm and running towards it.

"And you thought strolling in Central Park was cliché, huh?" I teased once we arrived at the stand.

"Shut up," she said, smiling, before turning to the vendor.

"Two hot dogs, please!" she said cheerfully to the vendor.

"So, I don't even get to choose my meal?" I frowned.

"No, just be quiet and take what I give you!" she said with a smirk, and I chuckled.

"No ketchup!" she added to the vendor as he reached for the sauce compartment.

I hate ketchup, but I don't think I've ever told her that.

She grabbed the hot dogs and paid before I could say anything.

"Ugh, sorry, I hate ketchup, I didn't think to ask if you wanted any," she said, handing me my hot dog.

So it was just a coincidence? You and I probably have much more in common than I could have imagined...

The more time I spend with you, the harder it is for me to believe that you're not the literal definition of perfection, y/n.

"It's okay; I don't like ketchup either anyway," I said, smiling.

"Really??" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, I can't stand it," I said, chuckling.

"Or maybe you're just trying to copy me, huh? I see what you're trying to do, Matty!" she said, narrowing her eyes before taking a bite of her hot dog.

Matty, so we're already at the nickname stage?

"Yeah, that must be it. Keep dreaming," I said, shaking my head and taking a bite of my hot dog.

We continued our little walk to the park.

"Can I be honest with you?" she said, turning to me.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," I replied.

"These hot dogs are really terrible," she said, grimacing, and I laughed.

"I agree," I replied, and she laughed too.

"But I really want to finish them; I hate wasting food!" she said, pouting like a little girl.

Y/n, if only you knew how much you softened my heart.

"It's alright, sweetheart; I'll finish it for you if you can't," I said, smiling.

"Matt, you're so cute, bro," she said, blushing before turning her head.

"Bro?" I chuckled. "That hurts."

"What were you hoping for?" she said, rolling her eyes. "That I'd call you baby?" she said, smiling.

"Okay, go ahead, mock me some more," I said.

"With pleasure, baby," she said with a smirk.

"You're not funny, y/n," I said, finishing my hot dog.

"Maybe, but you adore me anyway," she shrugged, offering me her hot dog for me to eat as agreed.

"I can't deny that," I replied, taking her hot dog.

We continued our walk, chatting about everything and nothing.

I wasn't usually talkative, but with her, everything was so effortless. I loved listening to her; she always had something interesting to say.

She was full of surprises, always having a different opinion or perspective on the world, which made me feel less alone.

"Oh, Matt, look, an ice cream stand!" she said, hopping.

"You're such a child, y/n, you know that?" I chuckled.

"Yeah, I love life, sue me for it," she said, raising her hands sarcastically.

I shook my head before following her to the ice cream stand.

"Oh my god, they have rose-flavored ice cream, it's my favorite scent; you absolutely have to try it!" she said excitedly.

"I don't really feel like ice cream," I started to say before she cut me off to talk to the vendor.

"Two rose-flavored ice creams, please," she said, turning to me with a big smile.

I looked at her bewildered before bursting into laughter; she's completely insane, but I love it.

"Here you go," she said, handing me my ice cream before happily continuing to walk in the park.

How can she have so much energy and smile so much?

It's true; this girl was like a sun; she lit up every place she went.

And me, on the contrary, I felt like I was the moon next to her.

"So, how is it?" she said, smiling, referring to my ice cream.

"Delicious," I replied.

"See, I knew you'd like it," she said proudly.

"Oh, wait, you have some ice cream right there," she said, chuckling before approaching me.

Standing on tiptoes, she placed her hand on my cheek and used the finger of her other hand to wipe the ice cream from the corner of my mouth.

"Here," she said, looking into my eyes and offering me her finger with the ice cream to lick.

Her gaze and expression changed at that moment.

What are you playing at, y/n? Is this your way of making suggestive gestures towards me? If so, you have absolutely no idea the effect you're having on me right now.

I took her finger into my mouth without breaking eye contact, and she bit her lip.

I can't be imagining things; she's not as innocent as she pretends to be.

She then returned to standing normally on both feet before taking a bite of her ice cream, still looking me straight in the eyes.

Fuck, does it really take so little to get me hard?

"Mmmh, my favorite," she said, closing her eyes before turning around and starting to walk again as if nothing had happened.

Is that all? Are you going to leave me hanging like this?

If you only knew how much I dreamed of being in your ice cream's place right now, y/n...

From that moment on, it was difficult for me to focus on what she was saying. My mind was filled with ideas... of all kinds.

But regardless, we resumed our conversation, stopping on a bench to finish our ice creams.

"Fuck," she said, taking her phone to check the notification she had just received in the middle of our conversation.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"It's my dad, he needs me for his charity gala next weekend," she said with a sigh.

"His charity gala?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's something my dad organizes every year. It's a big event where he invites his most influential friends to raise funds for cancer research," she replied.

"Oh, um, do you want me to drop you off?" I offered.

"I'm really sorry to cut our outing short like this," she said with a sad look.

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry about it. We can hang out again this week," I said, putting my hand on her back and smiling.

"You're the best," she said, hugging me, and we headed back towards my bike this time.

"Where do you want me to drop you?" I asked as I put on my helmet.

"Take me home, I need to pick up some stuff anyway," she said, putting on her helmet as well.

We got on my bike, and I started driving towards her place.

This time, she seemed to hold on to me a little tighter, as if she didn't want this moment to end.

Oh, so you'd do anything to not have to leave either?

Once we arrived at her apartment complex, I parked, and she got off, taking off her helmet.

"I really hate that I have to go. I wish I could stay with you," she said, looking down at the ground.

I took off my helmet before responding.

"Y/n, you have important things to do, and I'm not going anywhere. You'll come back to me when you have time," I said, placing my hands on her cheeks without thinking.

She looked up at me, and damn, how badly I wanted to kiss her.

Is that what I should do? She's not saying anything anymore, maybe that's what she's waiting for from me?

"Thank you, Matt," she said softly, smiling after several seconds of staring into each other's eyes without saying anything before stepping back and turning to go inside her place.

And I missed my chance again, what an idiot.

Next time, I promise you, y/n, I won't let my chance slip away.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

Taglist: @mayhem-72 @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @bernardenjoyer @whicked-hazlatwhore @nicksmainbitch @vickyzloserz @stingerayyy2

[weeesi]

Self-Rec Thingy

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

Thank you @calaisreno for tagging me!

The Edge of the Sea (fair warning -> WIP, 14/20 chapters, but the whole thing is drafted): Sherlock jumps and John is devastated. John spends the next two years alone, Sherlock doesn't (aka Victor Trevor tags along). Jealous!John, slow burn, complicated relationships, not really a casefic, the focus is more on...agony?

2. Hello You: John helps Sherlock get out of an awkward situation in a pub by pretending to be his boyfriend. Shenanigans ensue. Rom-com vibes, fake relationship, first kiss, the usual antics, funny fluff.

3. Come What May: Thanks to @calaisreno and the May Prompt series, these little 221Bs cover the whole gamut: pining, angst, fluff, parentlock, smutty stuff, etc. MCD in two, cw in the chapter notes.

4. Midnight Plowboy: Sherlock has a secret stash of vintage gay erotica. John finds it and helps him act out his favourite, the eponymous Midnight Plowboy, lol. This is one of...nine? ten? short-ish PWPs I've written that are kinda funny and hopefully kinda hot and are perfect little bonbons for when you need a quick fix.

5. The Forest and The Riddle: Patrochilles forever!!! Any Madeline Miller fans out there?? I read The Song of Achilles in two days and wrote these immediately afterward whilst still sobbing, pretty much.

Tagging five: @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @copperplatebeech @totallysilvergirl @discordantwords and anyone else who would like to self-rec their works!

[agendabymooner]

time to rock and roll || fa14 fic (1)

THE BREAKUP AND MAKEUP DUOLOGY — PART ONE

“when will you learn? i’m the queen and i’ll put you in your place.”

Summary: It was 2007, and Fernando Alonso had to learn the hard way that his ego and pride were getting in the way of the love that he built up with the recently-retired professional wrestler Trish Staedtlander. OR the 2007 Canadian GP left Trish no choice but to put on a brave face and show nothing but indifference. It’s safe to say that Fernando’s pride was immediately humbled by her words and impassive expressions as he begged her to come back.

Content warning: 2007 McLaren driver!Fernando, mentions the spygate scandal, exes-to-lovers trope(ish), use of explicit language, poorly Apple-translated Spanish dialogues, platonic!Lewis Hamilton x OFC, brief Jenson Button x OFC content, mentions brief alcohol consumption, jealous!Fernando, 6300+ words of nonsense.

Note: I cannot believe I have returned to my Nando fucker phase. Enjoy xx

masterlist

“¡Si así es como funciona, entonces me voy! Feliz jodido aniversario para ti.” If this is how it works, then I’m leaving! Happy fucking anniversary to you. 

“Vuelve, Trisha,” Come back, Trisha. Fernando sighed exasperatedly. 

“No, Fernando,” Beatrice Staedtlander was a force to be reckoned with. With enough time and money, she could do whatever with her life— yet she had chosen him. She expressed her feelings towards travelling with him, telling him that out of those 52 weekends of a year, she only had him for less than a half. 

He wasn’t keen on the idea of taking her to every race. The worst part about this was that he decided to turn her down at their second anniversary— three weeks or so after she initially proposed the idea of being around him more often through a call. 

Was it because of the grid girls? She asked herself. Because she was certain that she could take it. She fought against the most attractive women in the wrestling industry before, hell she was declared the poster girl for all of them. She definitely had no problem— knowing that she was the one that the Fernando Alonso would come home to. 

She tried to explain to him that she was fine with any kind of issues that may come as they travel. She could adjust for him. But that wasn’t why he kept rejecting her. 

He could have simply said that he didn't want to be angry at her if he had lost. It was much better to cool off on the flight back to Canada instead of having her witness him in the worst way possible. He could have said all of that, but all he said was that he didn’t want any distraction. 

Was that what he really thought of her? All those times she had been with him and he’d be reading something while she spoke… is she just a distraction? Seventeen weekends to compete and another twenty to prepare for the season and all she was to him was something to fill up his schedule?

She really shouldn’t have flown to England for this. She could have just left him working at the McLaren headquarters for his break until the next race.

“I’m going home,” she told him firmly, her voice shaky as she stood there. Her hand gripped the handle of her suitcase as she spewed out, “17 weekends are what I always miss, Fernando, and twenty of those you’re always working or out— so if I’m just a distraction then I’ll make sure to make the rest of your 15 weeks as peaceful as they can be. I don’t want to see you so please don’t come to my house.”

She slammed the door on him and left as soon as she hailed a cab— it took her three minutes to do all of that. Yet it took Fernando five minutes to catch up with her but she was nowhere close to him. She wasn’t in the lobby nor outside waiting for a taxi. 

She already left.

“I shouldn’t have retired early.” “You had a bad injury last year, you had to retire early.” 

“How do I unlearn Spanish?” “Don’t speak it.” 

“Seriously, I really would just like to stay at home and not be here,” Trish whined, playing with the ice on her empty glass. “I’m not fully miserable, guys. Why am I having some sort of intervention?” 

“Psh,” Amy scoffed. “I just watched you eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s for an hour straight while you’re watching Dirty Dancing. It’s been exactly what— seven weeks since you broke up with him. You need the intervention, trust me.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to break up with him,” Jay told her with a slight shrug. Of course he would say that— they’ve dated for three months and Jay constantly flirted with her even after she began seeing Fernando. “Look, maybe if you try to attend the Grand Prix tomorrow you’ll have some sort of closure. You’ll see his face and realize that you deserve better than someone who only cares for you if it’s convenient.” 

“I’m not going to fucking go— thank you,” Trish nodded at the server who walked away after giving her the second glass of rum and coke. Sipping on it, she found herself being stared at by her best friends. “I don’t even know why I decided to go to Montreal of all places! I could have gone to Banff for a vacation instead.”

“Because there’s a part of you that wants to support him,” Amy said. “He sent those passes to you in hopes that maybe you’ll watch him race.” 

“Tried telling him that before,” Trish huffed out petulantly, “look where that got me.” 

“He probably didn’t mean it,” Jay tried to reason out, leaving the blonde to glare at him. She had heard that pathetic excuse before, and she wasn’t about to hear that when defending what she thought was the love of her life. Jay caught the look in her face and grimaced, “Okay, poor excuse, sorry— but maybe there are some things that he hadn’t said?” 

“Did he ring you or something?” Beatrice raised a brow. 

Jay shook his head slightly, “No, but you’ve seen the man. Does he look like the type to ditch you because he’s looking for something new or something?” 

“Yes,” Amy and Trish answered, both looking at the only man at the table. 

Amy looked at Trish, “But Trish, come on, how bad could it be? We only have two days to watch— the chances of seeing him may be slim. Plus, we can pull some strings from Stephanie and maybe get some extra privileges that come with the pass?” 

“I do like the sound of that,” Jay nodded. “Talk to the McMahons. Probably find a way to get out of the McLaren area?”

“Yeah, I’ll call Steph or something. If not, I'm sure Shane would be generous enough to get us some other paddock passes,” Amy stood up and reached for her phone, flipping it open to contact their former employer’s daughter. She walked away from their booth. 

Trish sighed and realized that her drink was empty.

“She’s not calling Shane right? Like my ex, son of my boss Shane just so I can see my other ex race?” Trish asked Jay with a ridiculing face, leaving the other Canadian to shrug his shoulders.

She wished she hadn’t gone to Montreal because she could feel his presence regardless of which part of the city he was in. Those weeks of being alone were hellish, if you were to ask them. 

Everyone had taken notice of the model-turned-wrestler-turned-legend when she, alongside her former coworkers, arriving at the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. 

It was surprising, to say the least; she assumed that with what she was wearing - a low rise jeans with her custom buckled belt and some tight white tees - she wouldn’t have stuck out. She wasn’t sure if it was the buckle that caught everyone’s attention - or maybe it was the cowboy hat that she wore in the colour of McLaren. But everyone saw her and had taken photos left and right. 

Jay and Amy had also signed some things — seeing as the three of them were to become legends of WWE. They’ve gone around the grid and talked to people. Team principals were rather glad to see the three of them, telling the trio that they made a good impression as professional wrestlers during the Attitude Era. 

The three tried to cut the conversations short, not wanting to withhold the staff’s attention to their own racing teams.

Trish dreaded going to the McLaren area, not wanting to see her lover, Fernando, and feeling like she was imposing once more. Like he said, she was just a distraction… so she saw no reason why she should see his team before the qualifying. Her feet were backing off and she was ready to walk away. 

She would have gone had it been for a young Lewis Hamilton who caught a glimpse of the Canadian wrestler. He was quick to reach out to her.

“H- Miss Stratus!” He greeted her, nervousness written all over his face but he smiled nonetheless. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. My name is Lewis Hamilton.” 

Trish quickly recognized the name, “Ah yes! It is very nice to meet you, Hamilton. You’re extremely impressive you know? I’ve watched the races from the television and you’ve got a lot of potential. It’s too bad I’ve never seen you race in person ‘til now.” 

“That’s a lot of compliment coming from you,” Lewis chuckled meekly, “and you’re the one to talk. You’ve been an amazing wrestler and character during your active years. Some may think that your championships were nothing but a joke but I think they were rather fitting for your character.” 

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, “when someone tries to bring you down, it’s just easier for you to either ignore them or eat up the attention.”

“And you chose the latter,” Lewis laughed. 

“And I chose the latter,” Trish nodded. “As much as I’d like to keep talking I think I’m gonna have to cut the conversation short. I'd hate to impose and distract you—“

“Nonsense!” Lewis insisted, “Alonso’s been looking for you since we arrived a few days ago. I think he was worried you weren’t coming this weekend—“

“What?” Trish interfered, disbelief written in her face as she tried to comprehend what was just said. 

Fernando’s looking for her and he’s scared she wouldn’t come.

Her lover had always been confident, some people thought of his personality as something more boastful and egotistical. She always loved that he could get self-assured at times, and that he would often infect her with the same energy until she was at the same level of confidence as him. 

But even his fears could get irrational. 

Sure, the breakup became the talk of the month or whatever (so far there had been ten magazines that had written about it), but not once did he allow any personal problem to get in the way of his racing. Whatever happened in the tracks, he’d make sure to address it, but he would never jeopardize his race just because he had an argument with his parents prior to the competition. 

So his fear of her not being there? Trish was sure that he wouldn’t allow that to get in the way of his world drivers’ championship. 

“Yeah, really,” Lewis nodded in confirmation. “I know he had flown out his mother from Spain too, seeing as this was your country and all. Mrs. Alonso keeps telling me that Fernando’s been keeping you from her so she just decided to come here for you.” 

Okay, maybe there was a reason why he was scared. But they’ve broken up, have they not? It’s been nearly two months, why hadn’t he told Mrs. Alonso about their breakup? Perhaps she found out already, she probably just wanted to see Trish and possibly bitch-slap the Canadian. Maybe.

“Right,” Trish nodded. “I’ll see him around eventually. Maybe you can let her know I’m here? I’ve got to get back to my friends before the qualifying.”

“No problem, Miss Stratus!” Lewis grinned.

“Beatrice,” Trish told him, “call me Beatrice or Trish. Miss Stratus makes it sound like I’m old or something.”

“Alright… Trish,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ll pass the message to her for you. Hope you find your friends before it gets even worse in the paddock.”

“Thank you so much, Lewis,” Trish smiled softly at the man. “Good luck on your qualifying. Try to aim for the pole.” 

“I’ll work hard enough!” Lewis bid his farewell to Trish before returning to the garage. Turning away, Trish kept a small smile on her face before she set off to find Amy and Jay. There was a lot for her to say about what she just found out.

“HOLY SHIT! HAMILTON’S AT POLE!” Jay screamed, his mouth gaping as he turned to look at his friends with widened eyes. The shared flabbergasted look on Amy and Trish’s faces matched with the man as they yelled excitedly, trying not to jump up and down in joy.

“He’s fucking pole tomorrow!” Trish yelled, grin widening even more as she shook Jay’s shoulders.

“…I think you should be more excited for something else, Beatrice,” Amy poked Trish on the side, making the Canadian turn around to face her best friend. Amy pointed at the screen, all of them watching as a checkered flag was displayed next to Fernando’s name and his final qualification time showing up next to the second one. “Nando’s at P2 tomorrow.” 

Trish’s smile faltered for a moment, taking in the information as her chest swelled with pride. Her mouth returned to its curled position. She turned around to celebrate Hamilton’s pole position for a literal second and her man came running to retrieve the second position. Talk about a win. 

Before they could even leave the McLaren’s hospitality they were approached by a media relations member to let them know about being interviewed. It wasn’t as if they could get out of that duty— Martin Brundle would most likely be the one to approach them if they hadn’t been notified and if there was anything Trish had learned it was that you don’t simply walk away from him. 

“Trish, this is the first time I have seen you since last year’s Canadian Grand Prix,” Martin started once he introduced the three. “With what’s happening between you and a certain McLaren driver, or what even happened, how do you feel being in the circuit?” 

“Well, I am quite excited for tomorrow. Seeing McLaren with a pole and a second position made me feel so giddy,” Trish grinned. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t mention him nor the comment that Martin made about their famous break up.

“Rumour has it that you weren’t planning to go this year,” Martin asked her. 

Amy decided to answer for Trish, “She wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t want to, I mean. And I know that this had been her tradition since she got her what— fifth— sixth Women’s Championship title?” 

“Fifth,” Jay piped up, “if it’s 2005, yeah it’s fifth.” 

“Yeah, so this was something that she had been doing since 2005 and if there’s anything that I knew since working with her was that she doesn’t like to skip out of certain traditions. We had to drag her ass out of Toronto a few days ago because well, we didn’t want to waste the passes given to us by a generous driver,” Amy continued, smirking towards Trish’s direction. The Canadian shot her best friend a look. 

“Quite the generous driver, indeed,” Martin said, “have you three congratulated him by chance?” At least the man wasn’t singling her out now. 

“We have not,” Jay answered, “we were planning to call it an early evening after we speak to their team principal however—“

Meanwhile, next to the trio stood Lewis Hamilton, who was being interviewed as well. He spoke about landing on the pole and how confident he was tomorrow. 

Trish thought she misheard what he said as he continued, “I’ve seen Trish Stratus earlier. Trish told me today that I should get the pole position, and obviously being one of my favourite wrestlers and all— I can’t disappoint her.”

“She’s just right next to you actually,” Lewis’ interviewer pointed, making the cameraman pan his camera towards the wrestler who then turned only to see Lewis and the camera in her direction. 

“Oh Lewis!” Trish exclaimed, interrupting the conversation between Amy, Jay and Martin as she apologized meekly, “Sorry, Martin. I’ll just move aside for a moment to speak to Lewis.” 

Then she walked three steps towards the driver, “Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!” 

Lewis took that friendly offer as he grinned, finally pulling away as he said, “Thank you, thank you! We were actually just talking about you and how you told me to get the pole position.”

“And clearly Lewis fulfilled it,” Trish giggled, clapping him on the back. “It’s going to be really exciting to see you tomorrow. And I’ve heard this is your first pole?” 

“It is, it is,” Lewis nodded eagerly. 

“God, I am so happy for you, Lew!” Trish exclaimed.

“And what do you think about McLaren getting another higher position on the grid tomorrow with Fernando Alonso getting a P2?” The interviewer asked, making the wrestler pause for a moment. Her face remained impassive, not wanting to give the papers more things to write about. 

Her quick thinking, thankfully, led her to respond with, “I have always been supportive of each driver and just like the previous races, I never failed to believe that Fernando Alonso would be able to make it in the top ten. Each race that I have been to— I rarely go now— always has the same result with him being successful one way or another.” It was so nice having a media relations manager in WWE. At least she knew how to respond without losing her shit at people who kept on bringing up her ex.

“Do you think that his success in the races you make your appearance in would have to do something with you?” The woman across from the British and Canadian continued to ask, a smile on her face was rather genuine— if you would ask Trish. It was as if they were asking about a romance that had somehow brightened up the racing and wrestling community’s images. 

Everyone did tell her and Fernando that while their relationship was made public they somehow managed to show genuineness instead of the fake smiles and pretentious display of affection. 

So it never hurt for Trish to reminisce no matter what their situation was now. Trish answered the interviewer and said, “You know… that’s something that isn’t up to me. I know for a fact that Fernando was always made for this sport so me being there wouldn’t change a thing. I could be gone now and he’d still land in P2, you know?”

Amy: Gone down to the bar downstairs. Raikkonen and Button r here. R u coming? 

Beatrice: No, too tired. Enjoy though xx

Her room telephone started ringing by the time she shut her phone close, groaning as she glared at the direction of the phone. There was too much to unpack after arriving from the venue that she scolded herself for staying a little longer at the McLaren garage. 

Somehow she found a reason why Fernando refused to take her to the races. Being told that she was some distraction did hurt— but being left in the dark about what could potentially jeopardize his career was another. IFinding out about the information from Ferrari being passed to McLaren left a distasteful feeling on her mouth. She never wanted to take back her words of praise from earlier until now. 

All the more reason to avoid Fernando right? 

Right. But he was determined to make things right for them. 

When Trish answered the phone she initially thought that it was either Jay or Amy, exclaiming, “What? I texted you alr—“

“Trish, hija!” The voice on the other side of the call silenced the Canadian, feeling too stunned and unable to speak for a moment as the sweet voice continued, “¿Te parece bien que hable español?” Is it okay if I speak Spanish?

Trish swallowed the lump on her throat and stammered, “Sí, por supuesto, señora Alonso.” Yes, of course, Mrs. Alonso.

“Hace tiempo que no sé nada de ti, mi amor. ¿Cómo has estado?” I have not heard from you for a while now, my love. How have you been? God, those words were angelic. For it to come from her lover’s mother was a blessing that was hard to believe. 

Fernando’s mother had always expressed her fondness for the woman. Whenever Trish flew to Spain for holidays— all of which were spent with Fernando— his mother would always make sure that the Canadian had everything she needed. She even taught the younger woman a lot about Spanish culture. Needless to say, Mrs. Alonso enjoyed Trish’s company and vice versa. 

“Ah, ha sido duro, pero estoy trabajando duro para pasar el día.” It’s been rough but I’m working hard to push through the day. Trish felt herself smiling before it fell off and asked, “If you do not mind me asking… How did you find my hotel room number?” 

“Espero que no te importe, pero Nando ha sido muy reservado sobre ti últimamente. No me gusta ser entrometido, pero si significa para mí hablar contigo, entonces encontraré algo de sus cosas que me lleve a ti.” I hope you don’t mind, but Nando has been very secretive about you lately. I don’t like being nosy but if it means for me to speak to you then I’ll find something from his things that’ll get me to you. 

Trish nearly laughed at this. Mrs. Alonso, whenever the couple were miles apart, would take it upon herself to talk in the background and join in at the conversation held between Fernando and Trish. She was rather dedicated to keeping her relationship alive with Trish and the younger woman appreciated that. 

“¿Te parece bien si cenamos esta noche? Solo tú y yo, Fernando no estará allí.” Is it okay if we have dinner tonight? It’s just me and you— Fernando will not be there. Mrs. Alonso’s voice sounded more like a plea than it was a suggestion. “Tell me everything that happened.” 

And who was Trish to say no? After all, she was the Alonso that Trish liked the most— not that she would ever tell Fernando that. There’s got to be at least something to lie to him about. Especially when he’d done it multiple times. 

Their dinner wasn’t tense at all. It was as if they’d forgotten about Fernando for a moment as they chatted away, exchanging their thoughts on the current events and laughing about whatever.

Beatrice wasn’t too keen on telling Mrs. Alonso about the silliest things, but the older woman was a woman of detail. She needed to know how their relationship came to an end so easily. And instead of fighting back on it, Beatrice’s shoulders dropped as she started to tell Mrs. Alonso about what had happened weeks ago. 

“We’ve been together for years,” Beatrice said, dropping her hands to avoid playing with her food. She offered a rueful smile to the older woman. “Me hizo sentir como si fuera una carga.” He made me feel like a burden. 

Mrs. Alonso sighed quietly, unable to speak on behalf of her son. Fernando should be the one who would own up to his bullshit, and the pride that he carried within him hindered almost every good thing ahead of him. One of them being Trish. Mrs. Alonso figured that her son bringing his girlfriend along on a trip to Spain for holidays was a sign of love he could offer. 

But hearing about how he exploded and called her an inconvenience? Fernando couldn’t be more wrong and stupid. Even Mrs. Alonso called him that. 

He wouldn’t take Beatrice back home in Spain if she was just another woman to string along. He wouldn’t have lasted for two years in their relationship if he thought that Beatrice wasn’t the woman he wanted to marry. He hadn’t sat her down for three hours while drinking a bottle of wine, teaching her how to speak in Spanish at an intermediate level, just to toss her aside once he got her body trembling. 

A non-committal person would do things like that. But Fernando was in love with Beatrice. He’d see the grid girls wink and even put their hands on him, but not once did he ever try to get a taste of infidelity. He wasn’t like that. 

It baffled Mrs. Alonso to no end, but at least she expressed her empathy for the younger woman while telling Trish that she’d have a word with her son. 

Fernando was an idiot, and Mrs. Alonso was going to remind him how idiotic he could get. 

It wasn’t Fernando’s weekend this weekend, but it was Lewis Hamilton’s. 

And Trish couldn’t be happier for the young British driver. She spoke to him before his race about keeping his pole position all throughout the race. Then she told him that he’s becoming her favourite driver in the grid (which was true). Lewis Hamilton merely grinned and told her that, “I’ll make you even prouder then, hm?” 

And proud, she was. The moment he got an opportunity to be away from the media people, Trish didn’t take her time to drag Amy and Jay to find the man of the night. The Canadian merely rattled off at how exciting the race was for them as they were rooting for Hamilton. Lewis exchanged words and said something like, “I was nervous! I honestly thought I was going to fuck up at some point but no. I didn’t want you to see me race for the first time and watch me be shit at it.” 

Their conversation was cut short when he was pulled away by his press officer. Lewis had to beg his press officer to pause for a moment before giving the three a heads up about a party to celebrate his win. Trish hadn’t even realized what she agreed on, waving him off and nodding as if to tell him that he needed to go. He took this as a yes to the invitation. So when she received a text from him (when he took her number) about the details of the party, she only turned to her friends and said, “I hope you’ve got some nice clothes.”

Being invited to a party wasn’t on their agenda. She thought of staying for two or more days in Montreal to visit the basilica and cathedral church— and maybe she’d check out a farmers market and see if they’ve got a stall of local distilleries. So to be a guest of this race weekend’s winner? She was more popular than some of them yet she was worried about how atrocious she looked. 

She really lucked out when she managed to pull a going out top from her suitcase. A halter neck handkerchief top was what her eyes had settled on. Blue sequins were shining as she continued to hold it under her room’s light. She didn’t waste any time and prepared to go out tonight with her friends— and her new one, Lewis. 

As soon as she arrived with the two, her eyes scanned the place. The dance floor wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either. She saw Lewis by the dance floor and had chatted with him for a moment before she waved at him, telling him to enjoy his night. She immediately went straight to the bar and ordered a martini. 

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander, watching as bodies sucked in the air of freedom and happiness on the dance floor. She could see nothing but enjoyment, one that she craved the most after all those weeks of crying over some man. 

Her gaze shifted to a rather expensive space inside the club. She could see a VIP booth full of familiar faces— those that she saw while she walked around the paddock. If everyone were here, as Lewis had told her, then that meant…

“My, my,” she turned away from the VIP table back to the direction of the entrance, finding herself face to face with Jenson Button. He leaned against the bar counter and offered her a smirk. “Aren’t you a beautiful sight to see.” 

Thanking the bartender, she sipped on her martini with a scoff and asked, “Did that ever work on the girls you wanted to bed?” 

He chuckled heartily, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink — rum and coke. “No,” he teased, “it didn’t work on you, clearly.” 

Her face flushed before she turned away for a moment, hearing him laugh at the embarrassment that she felt. 

Regaining her composure, Beatrice looked back at Jenson. 

She knew that he was joking, but she had heard a lot about the grid singles; they were all trying to gain her attention when she attended the Grand Prix two years ago. Even now, there were still some drivers that were attracted to her. Jenson Button had an underlying problem and it was that his joke was half serious. 

She cleared her throat and pointed at the glass in his hand, “Fifth drink?” 

Jenson shook his head, “First.” 

“I don’t blame you,” raising her martini, she responded with a nod before tipping the drink over her open mouth. The burning sensation down her throat left her hissing quietly, making her companion chuckle in amusement. “It’s nice to know you get off at the sight of a woman in pain.”

His chuckle turned into a snicker as his shoulders shook. He then continued to joke along with her, “Not your thing? We can always compromise.” 

She bursted out of laughter, the burning feeling long gone as she exchanged words with him at the bar. 

What she hadn’t seen, though, was a quiet Fernando. He was sat at the end of the booth, the dimly lit area hiding the deadly stare that he held while Beatrice and Jenson laughed at whatever the fuck they were talking about. 

And as if God was laughing at him, the speakers were playing a remix of Beyoncé’s Irreplaceable. The song mocked Fernando’s vulnerable state.

“I can have another you in a minute, matter of fact he’ll be here in a minute.” 

He didn’t know how long he kept his gaze on the same place, or how many drinks Trish had while he zoned out. He shook himself out of his thoughts when Nico Rosberg called him, asking if he’d heard what the German just said. He only nodded but somehow he ended up being roped into a short conversation. He lost sight of her.

“Baby I don’t give a damn, I know your man’s nowhere in sight.”

Kimi Raikkonen, who had downed four shots of tequila throughout the night, decided that it was the right time to speak. He wolf-whistled as he peered over Fernando’s shoulders, his eyes squinting as he watched the dance floor. “Look at that. Jenson lied about being shit at dancing.” 

“And your eyes don’t tell a lie.” 

Fernando’s head snapped at the direction where Kimi pointed and his eyes narrowed at the sight. It wasn’t a pleasant sight for him. 

Because she was his woman. Not anyone else’s. Not Jenson’s. 

But with their dire situation, Fernando couldn’t call her his woman. She was single. So he painfully watched Beatrice’s face inching towards Jenson’s. 

The BAR-Honda driver’s hands were touching her hips as if he was holding a steering wheel. She smiled at him as if she liked it; Fernando knew she loved how his bigger hands gently rested on her waist whenever he’d sneak up behind her as she made their cups of coffee. Trish didn’t like how Jenson held her. Fernando just knew. 

“I know you wanna come with me tonight.”

Right. That was it. 

Fernando cleared his throat and stood, wordlessly walking away from the booth as he marched his way towards the two. His hand dragged her away from the British man, his face seething while Trish protested. She could’ve just pulled away because of how little force he had on his hold. 

Instead she just followed along as they ended up in a quieter area of the club. A rarity for such a loud venue.

“I can’t believe you,” Beatrice, rather than causing a drama, merely whispered the first four words that she offered him since she walked out with a “happy fucking anniversary.” 

“Trisha—“ he tried to reason out, but he was quietened by her glare. 

“Everything’s falling apart,” she told him calmly, “everything’s falling apart but you refuse to take accountability for being a part of it.”

He remembered the controversy surrounding McLaren and Ferrari. And how he was somewhat a part of it. 

Earlier today, he hadn’t even offered Lewis a congratulations on his first win. He bitterly walked off, frustrated at Lewis’ win and his P9 result. P-fucking-9. He’s been a two time world champion. Now he landed in P9? He was upset. It was even worse when he saw some televised interviews of Lewis and Trish being a little bit friendly as she showered the younger driver with support. Fernando was her favourite driver. Now it’s Lewis. 

Then he remembered how he got into a huge argument with her, practically lying about being a distraction to him just to save face. He hated how his pride got in the way of the things he needed, blaming others seemed to be a better option than accepting defeat. 

Beatrice continued on, “I gave you two years. I gave you half a year, Fernando. Why haven’t you backed out at the beginning if you thought of me that way?”

“I,” he paused to regain his composure, making sure that he was sober enough to speak. “I didn’t mean that.” 

“You were quite passionate when you were screaming abuse at me,” Beatrice muttered sarcastically. 

“I don’t, I really don’t— you have to believe me, mi corazon,” as of this point, he no longer had the prideful attitude. He didn’t care if he didn’t. He wasn’t about to lose her for good. “Everything’s falling apart and I wasn’t sure how to get myself out of it.”

“I could’ve done something,” Trish told him, “I could’ve been there to comfort you, to provide input— and I know jackshit about whatever’s happening. You didn’t tell me anything. How am I supposed to believe you after all of that?

“I can’t be the only one responsible here,” she continued with the pain that felt permanent. “You— ugh.” 

She angrily wiped her tears away, a slight smudge of her mascara showing her exasperation as she asked, “These papers— those people… when they ask you about me— did you ever try giving them an answer?” 

“Did you even tell them how much I fucking meant to you? Or did you just let it all show in front of the cameras because I’m not worth a word to anyone? Did you even bother to look and wonder how the fuck I was doing? After all of that fiasco last year— you weren’t even there!” 

“And that was my mistake, Trisha!” He yelled in the same tone as her. Were they ever glad that nobody could hear them with all of the bass boosting inside the club.

Her lips trembled, unable to contain her sadness. She wasn’t even upset at the way he yelled. She was just sad it turned out like this. 

He sighed, slumping down against the wall as he leaned his head back for a moment. He couldn’t talk to her if he couldn’t contain his frustration. But then again, if he continued to focus more on himself and keeping his composure— she’d walk away again because of the lack of words he had given her. 

His hand reached on her wrist, squeezing it once, “Just stay. Don’t leave, mi corazon.” 

“I’m not leaving,” she spoke quietly, slightly tugging her wrist away from his hold. Did he really think she’d leave? She only left months ago because she knew damn well that he’d much rather be alone… and that he didn’t want her there. “Only did that to make things easier for the two of us. I want to talk- and so do you, so I’m not wasting my time on leaving.”

Fernando Alonso never felt the need to explain himself any further to anyone, he could admit. He didn’t give that much shit what anyone would think, thanks to his ego. But he had never felt the need to explain himself this desperately before. He knew too well that the moment he watches Beatrice Staedtlander slip away from him would be the moment when everything ends for him. 

“Ojalá pudiera volver atrás en el tiempo para poder contarte todo. Sé que he herido a mucha gente debido a mis acciones y he hecho tanto por ti, ojalá no dejara que mi orgullo sacara lo mejor de mí. Mamá tiene razón. Soy estúpido porque te he deje ir tan fácilmente en lugar de tratar de mejorar las cosas,” I wish I can turn back the time so I can tell you everything. I know I’ve wounded a lot of people because of my doings and I’ve done so much to you, I wish I didn’t let my pride get the best of me. Mom is right. I am stupid because I’ve let you go so easily instead of trying to make things better.

His mind was set on panic mode and clearly the rambling of Spanish words showed it. His eyes, ones that were often playful or stoic, softened as he kneeled in front of her, clasping both of her hands as he said, “Please. Let me back in your heart, Trisha. Let me learn.” 

And she couldn’t even fathom the thought of refusing him. Because those two years of relationship didn’t build up to nothing. She hadn’t learned intermediate Spanish in his childhood home for nothing. She hadn’t stayed up late to receive his call for nothing. She wouldn’t have done anything as remotely outrageous as putting his driver number in her tiny bikini for a magazine cover if it hadn’t been for the love and dedication she had for him. 

“You’ve always been in my heart, Nando,” she murmured, peering down at him as she held his face against her smaller hands. Pressing down a kiss on his lips, she then said, “But god if you fucked this up, then maybe we really aren’t meant for each other.”

Fernando stood from where he kneeled, his lips capturing hers in a heated yet gentle kiss as his hand sat on her hip. He couldn’t even seem to answer, but it wasn’t as if he'd ever refuse her. She was someone he’d never turn down; not when he knew that she was it for him.

But this wasn’t the first time they’ve broken up. And this definitely won’t be the last time Fernando Alonso would find himself making the biggest mistake of his life. Thank god, Beatrice Staedtlander was there to remind him that his pride would only hinder his chances of making things right. 

[7ndipity]

Hello🤗 Hope you're doing well ❤️

Can I pls request headcanons for BTS members where reader thinks of them as just friends but they have a huge crush on us, then they get jealous when we ignored them for our guy best friend so they forced us to leave but don't confess because they are insecure? And can you please make it fluffy?

I know it's very specific 😅 but I would really appreciate it if you would accept my request ❤️ thank you ❤️

They Get Jealous of Your Guy Friend

Ot7 x Reader

Warnings: swearing, teeny bit of angst, not proofread

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Oof this concept tho, I love these kinds of concepts! I haven't written an ot7 piece in a hot minute, so it was fun to get back to these! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: He would get soo sulky if you weren’t paying attention to him. He’s you best friend, how could you ignore him?!(Although, he’d deny it up and down if you ever accused him of being jealous) He would try and play it off

though, pointing out how late it was getting and ‘hey, didn’t you have some work/school thing you needed to work on?’ maybe with his help?? He’d end up taking you for ice cream or smth on the way home because he feels a lil guilty for spoiling your evening and thinks about explaining, but he’d end up chickening out at the last second and keeping his thoughts to himself, for now at least…

Yoongi: Yoongi would be point blank about it, just like his approach to everything else. He’d stick himself right in the middle of whatever you and your other friend were doing and say that it was time for y’all go, since you’d so conveniently come together(well played, Min), not even letting your friend get out an offer to drop you home themselves before he was saying your goodbyes for you and all but pulling you with him out the door. When he spots you giving him a “wtf?” look, he would just shrug it off, preferring not to explain, all the earlier bravado disappearing with you. “Idk, I just wanted to leave…”

Hobi: ‘It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine’ is all that’d been repeating in his head for a solid five minutes as he tried to be cool and let you have a good time, but he couldn’t help feeling more than a bit miffed by the fact that he was being pretty much ignored by his partner. Except you weren’t his partner. Fuck, why did he always seem to forget that when he saw you with them? The last straw tho is when said friend puts a hand on your arm, and he’s up and beside you saying something about a minor emergency and you two have to go. He wasn’t even thinking and just said the first thing he could think of, having to now come up with a ‘whoops, false alarm!’ story so you don’t get mad at him.

Namjoon: Joon wouldn’t even hide the fact that he was irritated when you and your other friend were getting a little too cozy at the club you had gone to, coming over and grumpily telling you that y’all had to go, pulling some k-drama level shit trying to pull you along through the crowd with him. Naturally, you yank your hand away once you’re clear of the people and demand to know what the fuck was his problem, not understanding his sudden attitude. He would very nearly spill it then and there, frustration making him reckless, but he would catch himself at the last second and make up some lame excuse.

Jimin: Sulky No.2, ooh boy. He’d be trying his best(ish) not to be bothered, biting his lip every time he heard you laugh at one of their jokes or smth, but his jealousy would quickly get the better of him. He’d wind his way into the conversation before winding his way back out of it, with you in tow. How he always managed to get you away from the group was beyond you, he’s the smoothest smooth talker. You’d end up going to get dinner or coffee together on the way home,talking about whatever until you catch him staring at you for the third time and tell him to quit looking at you like that. “Like what?” “Like you’re in love with me or something.” “Would that be such a bad thing?” “What?!” “Nevermind, you were saying?”

Taehyung: Tae would come up with a bold faced lie, coming over and saying that he was feeling sick or smth and could you please take him home, knowing you would instantly go into caregiver mode, worrying about him and forgetting all about your other friend. It’s kinda a shitty move, and he knows it, but honestly if he had to sit and watch you smile at him for much longer, he might’ve actually gotten sick. He’d end up half confessing to you, talking about how much you mean to him and how he didn’t know what he’d do without you, might even actually say I love you, wincing a bit when you say that you love him too, and that he’s the best friend you could ever ask for. So close…

Jungkook: Sulky No.3. This boy is about as subtle as a neon sign, if I’m being honest. He hates when you’re not right next to him and you know that perfectly well, which is why you were ignoring him in the first place. His hypocritical attitude was really starting to irritate you, as it was apparently more than fine for him to go and mingle and flirt with whoever he wanted, but not you. By the time he got fed up and said it was time to leave, you were ready for a fight, demanding to know why he was always on your case on nights like this. “Because!” He’d catch the words just before they slipped out, biting his lip. “Because I worry about you.” “It’s not your job to worry about me.” “I know, but I want it to be…”

[bel1ewrites]

can we please get smut with jealous sam 🙏🏻 maybe from the setting of the party at the beginning of scream vi, sam comes to get both reader and tara back home and sees someone flirting with reader (reader shuts it down and doesn’t flirt back ofc) but sam is still a little pissed and feeling possessive? thank you so much if you do write this

a/n: Thank you so much for the request! Let me know if you like it; feedback is welcome :)

No One Else (Samantha Carpenter x Reader)

Description: When Sam tracks down you and Tara at a frat party and finds you being hit on, she makes sure everyone knows who you belong to; including you.

WC: 3k

Warnings: possessive behavior, mentions of alcohol, violence (punching and tasing), gross men who can’t take a hint, sexual harassment, sickening fluff, smut, oral, fingering, top!Sam, bratty-ish!Reader, praise!kink, etc.

YOU'D grown quite fond of the corner you hid in, beer in your hand and dead phone in your pocket. The heat that encompassed the room full of sweaty bodies was momentarily tamed as you pressed your back to the cool wall. You wanted to go home. You wanted to curl up into bed with Sam and watch some brainless show as she rubbed your back and told you how much she loved you. Instead, you were busy hiding from some dweeb who kept following you around and staring at your tits. Which, needless to say, looked amazing in the top you wore.

You needed a game plan; some way to make it to Tara without that asshat seeing you. Sticking close to the wall, you took a swig of your beer and crept towards the living room. You couldn’t see any of your friends through the crowd of people, but you remembered MIndy and Anika saying they’d be on the couch. 

The people cleared momentarily, creating a window through which you could see Mindy. You took one last deep breath, tugging your skirt down as it shifted up your thighs, and went in. 

“Mindy!” you whisper-screamed while pushing against the wasted bodies. Your mumbled apologies to the people you bumped into went unheard as the bass pumped through the floor. You were so close, maybe five feet away when he saw you again. 

A clammy hand gripped your arm, making you jump slightly and roll your eyes. When you turned around, you saw the same dickhead who had been up your ass all night. He wore some half-assed costume that you couldn’t understand. Really? Just a speedo? What a douchebag. 

“Let go of my fucking arm,” you scolded, ripping it from his sweaty grasp. He smelled like a mix of dirt and mold. 

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that,” he slurred, reaching for your waist. You dodged his hands swiftly, the people standing by you shot you both side eyes as they tried to move around you. 

“Eat shit,” you responded, sticking up both of your middle fingers at him in case he didn’t get the memo. You then walked as quickly as you could through the sea of people, finally reaching Mindy. She was making out with Anika, which was to be expected. 

“Hey,” you sighed, plopping down next to them. You chugged the rest of your beer and held the empty can in your lap, prepared to throw it at the guy if he came back. 

Mindy pulled away from Anika, smiling and lovestruck. She turned to look at you, the smile quickly falling from her face as she took in your aura. 

“Missing Sam?” she teased. 

Just as you went to respond, the room went dark. Two hands wrapped over your eyes, hot breath fanning down your exposed neck. “Guess whooo,” an annoyingly familiar voice sang. 

You almost gagged as you shook him off of you, the smell of his armpits burning your nose. You could hear him giggling behind you. 

“Are you a waitress,” he said loudly, “be- because I’d like to give you my tip!” 

The room filled with whistles and cheers. Fucking college kids. 

You were about to say some less than kind words to him, but you noticed Tara heading up the stairs with some guy who looked equally as annoying as the one bothering you. Immediately, you, Mindy, and Anika Stood up to shut it down. You went to step forward, but the man grabbed you from where he stood behind the couch, fingers greedily digging into your waist. Mindy and Anika didn’t realize, too preoccupied with stopping a different weirdo. You were pulled back to the couch; knees buckling as you fell onto it. 

Mr. Speedo jumped over the couch, landing partially on top of you as you tried to sit up. Panic flooded through you as he dipped his head and breathed in your scent. 

“What the fuck! Get off of me you fucking pig,” you screamed at him. For some reason, he took that as some sort of a challenge. There was some sort of commotion happening around the two of you, distracting everyone from the obvious assault taking place on the couch. 

You managed to push him away, scrambling off of the couch and falling to the floor. His laugh reverberated through your mind. As he went to chase you, a figure appeared. Faster than lightning, it punched the guy right in the nose before tasing him in the side. He fell back, groaning in pain.

“Touch her again,” said the voice of your girlfriend, tone ominous and even, “see what fucking happens,” she punctuated her words with another tase, this one directed at his balls. 

Relief. All you could feel was relief as you lay on the floor, staring up at the love of your life. She turned away from the guy, kneeling next to you. Her hand fell to your head, checking for injuries like a worried mother. 

“Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him,” she gritted through her teeth, “I’ll kill him.” She turned to go back to his writhing figure, but your hand shot up and gripped her wrist. “Don’t. I just want to go home,” you said defeatedly, sitting up and shifting your grasp to lace your fingers with hers. Her grip was intense, cutting off your circulation as she attempted to mask her anger.

She said your name, voice low. Her eyes were dark, a thin ring of brown around thick black spheres. Ripping off her jacket with speed, she forced you into it as if you were incompetent, zipping it all the way up. Her arm wrapped around you, fingers grasping you tightly and pulling you up. 

Everyone was watching, phones recording the scene. The guy was still groaning as Sam calmly walked the both of you out of the dying party, the rest of your friends following in silence. 

—----------

No one spoke during the walk home. Tara fumed quietly behind you and Sam, who hadn't taken her hands off of you once. Your mind raced, replaying the scene of your girlfriend violently tasing a man in the balls for you. It was a conflicting feeling. On one hand, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. On the other hand, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. The conflict was the fact that you wanted her to do it again. 

Sam unlocked the plethora of locks that sat outside of your shared apartment. It was muscle memory at that point, taking mere seconds to open the door. Everyone entered, scattering to avoid the ticking time bomb that was Samantha Carpenter. She closed and relocked the door. 

“Go wait in our room,” she said tensely, “I have to speak with my sister.”

And so you did, walking like a kicked puppy to your room, stripping out of your tight costume and throwing on one of Sam’s hoodies before climbing into bed. You turned your head and inhaled her scent that rested on the pillow. The sheets and comforter warmed you pleasantly, taking all of the negative thoughts out of your mind and lulling you into a peaceful state. 

At some point, you must've dozed off. Your eyelids fluttered open to the sound of your door closing and you watched in silence as Sam unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. Her shirt followed suit, soon replaced by her favorite comfy t-shirt of yours. 

You pulled back the sheets, opening your arms as a sign for her to crawl into them. She smiled that soft, dopey smile that always made your mind melt before she flopped onto the mattress and rolled into your arms. 

You threw the blankets over the both of you, arms wrapping around your favorite person. You dipped a hand beneath her (your) shirt and scratched her back in the way you knew she loved. She hummed in content, throwing a leg over you and burrowing into your neck. 

For a while, all she did was breathe you in. She left little butterfly kisses on your neck and shoulder, holding you as tight as she could. 

“I’m…” she broke the peaceful silence, “I’m having trouble dealing with tonight,” she mumbled into your neck. You continued to rub her back, moving your head to look at her. She lifted her eyes to yours, a silent storm brewing behind them. 

“Talk to me about it,” you said, voice raspy with sleep, “what’s bothering you?”

Sam sighed deeply and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “For starters, I told you I didn’t want you or Tara at that party,” her voice shook, “I leave you for not even an hour and someone else is trying to touch you; trying to take you from me. Don’t even get me started with Tara,” her fists clenched beneath the sheets as she shook her head. “I can’t think about her right now. This is about you. This is me addressing the fact that you did exactly what I told you not to do-” 

“It wasn’t my-” you began, but she cut you off.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she said through her teeth, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and sitting up. “I don’t care who came up with the goddamn idea,” she wasn’t looking at you. “You left this apartment in that,” deep breath, “...outfit. That tight little top and skirt. It’s the middle of fucking fall in New York, y/n. You could’ve gotten sick. Everyone was looking at you, I saw it. He was looking at you and I think that if I could read minds, I would’ve really killed him. I would’ve done it in front of all of those people and that…” she paused, “that scares me.” 

You listened in silence, absorbing every single word. Deep down you knew she was right. You knew she would’ve done it and that should’ve scared you… but it didn't. It didn’t scare you at all. What it did was far worse than that. 

It happened quickly. You sat up and she looked over at you, worried that she’d scared you off. Her eyes were wild, scanning your face for any signs of fear. What she found there must’ve shocked her, she blinked in confusion. You crawled forward on the bed and climbed into her lap, thighs straddling her waist. Out of instinct, her hands fell to your ass. 

You looked into her eyes, lids half mast and bottom lip trapped between your teeth. She watched in silence as your eyes traced over her face. Her perfect nose, those dark almond eyes. The way her top lip dipped down and formed her cupid’s bow. 

Within seconds, your lips pressed into hers. It was slow and intentional, rocking like waves through an unruly sea. She tasted like everything good in the world; so uniquely Sam that it almost brought you to tears. You were starving for her, fingers lacing through the dark locks at the nape of her neck and pulling her closer to you. She ran her hands over your ass roughly, calluses rubbing against your bare skin as she slipped her hands beneath the hoodie. 

You broke away from her, forehead resting against hers, noses brushing. Her eyes were still on your lips, so you leaned forward and tried to capture hers. She leaned back, keeping her lips just out of reach. Her eyes were droopy, drunk on you. 

“I love you,” she whispered lowly, looking into your soul. She saw you for what you were. She saw all of you, the good and the ugly, and loved all of it. 

You lifted your arms above your head as Sam pulled the hoodie from your body. You were left in nothing but a single thin layer of lace covering the space between your thighs. She grabbed the small of your waist, flipping the both of you over and laying you on your back against the comforter. 

You spread your legs for her, letting her lay between them as she crashed her lips to yours. This time she was rougher, more demanding. Her teeth nipped at your lips with force, hands moving to grab at your tits. 

You tilted your head up, lips disconnecting from hers as you groaned at the feeling of her rough palms against your nipples. She left wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck, sucking occasionally and marking you. 

Her head lifted, eyes finding yours before pinching your nipples. She reveled in the moan you released, desperate and needy. 

“Every single cell in your body belongs to me,” she rasped, watching her fingers as they pinched tighter. You nodded in agreement, hips twitching up against her. 

She released the sensitive buds, sitting up on top of you and effectively pinning your hips to the mattress with her body weight. You shifted, propping yourself up on your forearms and watching as she ran her hands over your torso, nails scratching the skin there. 

Your chest heaved with each breath, taking everything she gave you and wanting more. You knew better than to ask for it, she knew what you needed. She knew you inside and out; every inch of your body committed to memory. 

“No one else gets to see you like this,” she informed you, watching as you nodded desperately. “Only you,” you groaned. 

A smile spread across her face and she moved to lay between your legs, chin resting on her forearms that crossed over your hip bones. “That’s right, baby,” she praised, “only me.”

The sight of her laying there made a fresh wave of arousal wash over you, looking up at you with possessive eyes and so close to where you needed her the most. As you lifted your hips up, she pressed them back into the mattress with force. 

“Sam, come on,” you whined, closing your eyes and throwing your head back in frustration, “please.”

She made no effort to move. “I’m still mad at you, y’know,” she sighed, moving her hand to trace circles on your skin. “Letting everyone see this perfect little body… letting them see what’s mine. Maybe you don’t deserve to be touched right now, hm?” she moved down, hands holding your thighs open at the crease where they met your legs. Her mouth hovered inches from your clothed cunt, breath hitting the wet lace and making you shudder. 

“I don’t deserve it,” you admitted shakily, “...but I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You swear?” she smirked, placing a light kiss to your throbbing clit. “Mhm,” you nodded pathetically whilst trying to follow her mouth as she retracted. “Well,” Sam began, moving the material to the side, “if you swear…”

Her tongue flattened against the aching bud, roughly pushing against it before swirling around. You choked on a sob of relief, letting out a mantra of thank you’s as her lips wrapped around you, sucking with painful force. 

“Fuck- too much, too much,” you warned, reaching down and holding onto her head. When you tried to pull her up, she let out a low warning sound before tearing the soaked cloth from your body and throwing it behind her. 

She detached her mouth from you, lips glistening, and positioned her fingers at your entrance. “I thought this was what you wanted,” her eyebrows knitted together in mock confusion before she slammed into you without warning. You let out a loud moan that could surely be heard through the walls, clenching down on her fingers as your body attempted to adjust to the intrusion. 

She fucked you with vigor, the sounds of your wetness reverberating throughout the room, making you feel a little dirty. Fingers still drilling into you, she sat back on her calves, watching you fight through the pain and pleasure. 

“You’re so messy, baby,” she chided, “Making such a mess on my hand. Trying so hard to take everything I give you.”

Your moans were raw, eyes boring into hers and fighting to stay open. “Th- thank you, thank you I’ll- make it up- all up to you,” you mumbled through the haze. 

“I know you will, my pretty girl,” she smiled encouragingly as she sped up her movements, reaching her other hand down to rub circles on your clit. “Tell me what I want to hear,” she ordered. 

Your hands grasped the bed sheets impossibly tight, trying to focus on her words and holding back the tight coil that threatened to release. “I’m all yours,” you gasped out desperately, “only you- only you have m- fuck oh my fuck,” It was impossible to hold it in, but you managed to. 

“You gonna cum? Hm?” Sam said in a sinister voice. “Gonna make an even bigger mess all for me?” You nodded so fast that she almost worried you’d give yourself whiplash. 

Time was moving too slow. Her fingers curled against that spot only she knew, hitting it roughly over and over again. The tight circles she was making against your clit were perfect, not even you yourself could replicate them. All you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears, desperate gasps leaving your mouth, waiting for that one word. 

“Cum,” the woman you worshiped murmured, eyes drinking in the sight below her. 

Your thighs closed tightly around her hands as it hit you, but she forced them back open in a show of strength, moving to pin them open with her thighs. She was fucking you through it, watching as you shuddered violently and strained your neck. Her favorite part was prolonging the orgasm, making sure that it hit you hard enough to render you incoherent; a babbling mess. 

She didn’t relent until you were begging her to stop, far too sensitive to take anymore. You lay limp against the sheets, head spinning and body numb. Sam climbed up the bed, laying down and pulling you into her. She maneuvered your body so that she could get the blankets back over the two of you as you twitched and let out little gasps. 

“Good job,” she whispered, lips pressing to your sweaty head. “You did so good, baby.”

You were fighting to stay awake, wanting desperately to make her feel good too, but it was too hard. Your eyes wouldn’t stay open, limbs heavier than a bag of bricks. “It's okay,” your girlfriend assured you, watching your lashes flutter against your flush cheeks, “go to sleep.”

Before you shifted to the world of the unconscious, you whispered a weak, “I love you,” letting out a content little sigh.