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trivia-yandere · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!!!! Okay, first of all, I'm in love with your writing!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕And I was wondering (I've never done a story request so if it is horrible, please just ignore it 😅) but I was wondering if you could write a story of maybe yandereboyfriend/friend jungkook kinda forces older (not heaps but like 2-5 years older but shes just shy and confused when it comws to sex and intimacy) reader to loose her virginity to him and she likes it at the end?? If this is super uncomfortable, please don't even think about it 😅😶‍🌫️👉👈 or if you wanna do something completely different, I'd love your writing anyways!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

hello! yes I can :) thank you for sending a request and being so patient! i feel like this yandere is more light than the usual lol

best friends!

jungkook doesn't like the idea of you wanting to loose your virginity to anyone that wasn't him. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @minshookie29 idol version

word count: 6.100

warning: naive/shy reader, mentions of watching porn, childhood friends jungkook + reader, smut scenes, coercion, masturbation, manipulation, light yandere tedancies, jealous jungkook, dub-con moments, dry humping, kissing, nipple sucking, oral sex, loss of virginity, rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering, unprotected sex, spitting,

“You’ll never be able to seduce a man, Noona.” Jungkook laughs boisterously, causing your face to heat up. “You’re just too shy.”

Jungkook’s eyes watch as your arms cross over your chest, any self-confidence you had slowly falling. He hums, turning over on his bed to face you. He then places a hand on your thigh. “Noona…”

“Stop calling me that, Jungkook.” you murmur. He knows that you prefer to be called by your name, but he’d often ignore you because of how much he enjoys teasing you, even after years of friendship.

“You’re upset with me.” says Jungkook.

“I’ve stopped calling you Kookie like you asked.”

Jungkook snorts. “That’s because the nickname doesn’t fit me anymore. I’m a man.” his hand squeezes your thigh. “Besides, I said stop calling me that in public. You and I are alone now.”

You and Jungkook have been friends since childhood, your father and his being great friends. The age difference never bothered you as much, and you’d often recall calling Jungkook your baby brother during his primary and middle school days - you having been homeschooled. It was when Jungkook grew in size and age and reached High School did he demand you stop calling him that but never gave a reason as to why.

Even now, as Jungkook and you are adults, the friendship remains. You went to him for whatever you thought you needed and he was there. Moving away from your father had been a big step and finding a job to support yourself was even bigger, but you were never truly alone because you had Jungkook - you and he living together.

Jungkook was the opposite of you. While your job consisted of you being home, he wasn’t. He made friends easily while you remained with a close knit circle. He was more social when needed and you often closed up around people you didn’t know. Most of your friends were Jungkook’s friends that he considered brothers - you recall asking him why he considered them family and not you. Jungkook didn’t give you any reason, stating that you’d never be a sister in his eyes, no matter if he knew you longer or not.

Now you and Jungkook lay in his bed, an action that he insisted on every so often, and watched tv. He’d often hold you, his breath tickling your ear with how close he was. A certain thought now laid on your mind and when you brought it up to Jungkook, his initial thought was to laugh at you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y/N.” Jungkook sighs. He pushes himself closer to you, the hand on your thigh firmly keeping you in place. “It’s just…you don’t go out much. You’ve been homeschooled your entire life and you don’t really have friends besides the ones I have.”

Jungkook continues. “You literally cried the first time I showed you porn.” he tries his hardest not to laugh at the memory of you and he, both in High School. You had come over to his home while his parents were working. Jungkook had asked you about it randomly, and when you insisted that you never watched something as normal as porn, he insisted that you and he watch together.

You’re flushed with heat at the embarrassing memory. “You…” you take a deep breath so your voice wouldn’t crack. “You told me it was just sex.”

“Is it not?” Jungkook knits his brows.

“They were crying!”

“In pleasure.” says Jungkook. “I should have started you off easy and not gone into bondage.” low, he begins to laugh. It’s a memory that he’s fond of. “But I don’t regret showing you either. It was the first time you came!”

A memory you wished Jungkook would forget - and stop bringing up. That same night he insisted on teaching you about masturbation, telling you that it was normal. You’ve never done so before, feeling weird about it all together, but Jungkook wouldn’t allow you to leave until you at least gave it a try.

“You even cried in pleasure.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, the scene flashing in his mind. How innocent you appeared, completely confused on what in the world you were doing. It was then did Jungkook tell you that he’d talk you through it. It took a half an hour of convincing, of course. Getting you out of your pants, then your underwear.

“Open your legs, Y/N.” Jungkook had said, grabbing your wrist. “Put your fingers right…there.” he places them onto your clit and you flinch at the feeling. “Then rub…” he murmured, his hand coaching you to rub until you got the hang of it.

Jungkook will never forget the sight and how hard he was at just watching you. Your breathing hitching, the low moans and the calls of his name. It’s a memory he cherishes with you - his best friend - and one of the main reasons as to why he’d never call you his sister; he had to dead that immediately afterwards.

“Who are you trying to seduce anyways?” Jungkook changes the subject and goes back to the original topic. “You found yourself a boyfriend?”

“No.” you quip. “I-I just want to have sex.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Why?”

“You have sex all the time.” you retort. You didn’t like Jungkook’s question, nor the look in his eyes.

“I’m also not a virgin.” Jungkook fires back. “You can’t just have sex with anyone, Y/N. Don’t you think it has to be special?”

“Your first time wasn’t with anyone special.” you murmur. “Do you even talk to her anymore?”

Jungkook snickers. “Don’t remember her name.” he shrugs. “But you and I are different. Sex is different for women.” Jungkook says matter-of-factly. “You women create bonds with guys you give your body to. You can’t have that bond with just anyone.”

It was a conversation Jungkook and you had time and time again. As you got older, you were tired of being a virgin - and dating was never an option. Not because you couldn’t find a boyfriend - you could. You had men come up to you asking for your number and if you’d be interested in going on dates.

The problem was Jungkook. He lingered around you often, and you never minded. He was your best friend and each man that tried were always shot down by him, not you. “He’s ugly.” Jungkook said about one man. “He looks like he doesn’t even shower, Y/N. Why he thinks he can speak to you is beyond me.” was said about another. “Men only want one thing. They can tell that you’ve never been touched.”

“What about Hoseok?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, your question lingering in his mind.

Hoseok?

Hoseok.

Jung Hoseok as his friend - the man he calls his brother?

There’s a dark look in Jungkook’s eyes as he thinks about your question.

“Do you like him?”

“I love Hoseok.” you say calmly. “Like I love you.”

Jungkook doesn’t realize that his nails are digging into your skin until he hears you yelp. There was no way in Hell you love Hoseok the same as you loved him; the thought makes him want to gag.

“Why Hoseok?”

You aren’t sure how to respond. “I’ve known him for years.” was all you can think of. You and he were around the same age and he was nice, always smiling widely at you whenever he came around. “Maybe Namjoon?”

Jungkook swallows.

“You look at my friends often?”

There’s a change in Jungkook’s tone that has you cowering.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Do you want to fuck my friends?”

You’re taken aback by the harshness in Jungkook’s tone.

“I…I don’t know anyone else but your friends.”

Jungkook snickers. He wasn’t going to allow you and Hoseok - or Namjoon, hell, anyone - to do anything. Hoseok is a man such as he is and the thought of his taking something precious from you was driving him wild. Wild because he knows that if you asked Hoseok, he would.

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Hoseok has a girlfriend.”

A lie, but you’d never know that.

“Oh.” you appeared bummed. “Nam-”

“No.”

You swallow. “Jimin…?”

“Do you fantasize about them?”

You’ve know his friends as long as he has, and now he’s wondering when you had the thought of fucking them in your mind.

“I just want to have sex.” you sigh in defeat, not wanting to cause a fight with Jungkook.

“Why wouldn’t you ask me?”

Jungkook doesn’t care how unreasonably spoiled he may sound. You were his best friend, after all. He kept creeps away from you who wanted nothing but to wet their cocks. You were safe with him in the home you and he shared - he’d be damned if he’d allow a man to come in here and fuck you.

You’re silent, and Jungkook continues.

“You don’t love me.”

Your eyes widen when you feel Jungkook remove himself from you.

“I do.” you quip. “I-I just…I don’t have anyone else. I’m tired of not knowing what it feels like.” watching television with sexual scenes had you wondering if sex was truly as good as they made it seem. You recall hearing from Taehyung, another friend of Jungkook, that porn is often fake and not everything you see was real - but how could it not be when their eyes are rolling and they’re screaming with such passion?

“If you loved me, Y/N, you’d ask me.”

Your heart sinks when Jungkook lifts from his lying position. You hated arguing with him. He was someone you loved and trusted with your life - him being upset with you had your anxiety spiking.

“I thought you had someone you were seeing.” you admit. You recall seeing her a few times in the home. She never spoke, but then again neither did you. She would stroll past you to enter Jungkook’s bedroom and only ever gave you a small grin.

“Oh her.” Jungkook brushes past the statement. “I am. Somewhat.” he shrugs his shoulders. Her contemplated asking her out - she was decent looking and a good fuck. But he didn’t love her nor respect her enough to make her his girlfriend. He was just bored at the moment. “Why does that matter?”

The same way it matters that Hoseok had a girlfriend, you think. You want to say it, but you didn’t want to upset Jungkook anymore than he already was. “I don’t want to come between that.”

Jungkook wants to laugh. “I don’t love her. I love you.” Jungkook says, a tone in his voice that indicates that it should be obvious. “You are my best friend. You should be able to come to me when you need me. Not anyone else.”

You lift yourself up from the bed, as well, and you slowly nod your head. “Sorry.” you murmur.

Jungkook turns to face you, a full smile on his lips. “It’s okay. I’ll forgive you, Y/N.” Jungkook holds his hand out for you to grab.

You do, and Jungkook lightly tugs you closer. You and he are face to face now.

“Sex is more than just losing your virginity.” Jungkook’s thumb rubs your knuckles. “Sex should be pleasurable for both of us. Masturbation is a form of sex. You’ve done that already.”

You nod slowly, feeling hot.

“Tell me, Y/N.” Jungkook says. “When you masturbate, what makes you cum?”

You lick your lips, again embarrassed. You swallow while trying to find the words to answer Jungkook.

“When you watch porn, what do you like?” Jungkook changes the question up, and understands how shy you were - even with him.

Jungkook waits patiently for you to respond. “I-I…” you glance away from him. His eyes were always so piercing, like small black holes that can swallow anyone whole.

“Don’t be shy. We’re best friends, right?” Jungkook pulls you closer to him. “If you loved me, Y/N, you’ll tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

You nod. “Oral sex?” your words come out questioningly.

Jungkook nods. “Okay. That’s a start. Oral sex is a big part of sex. It’s a form of foreplay. Get things started.”

“I don’t think you should do that.” you’re horrified with Jungkook’s face being so close to your sex. Yes, he’s seen it before - years ago - but that was then. He was a man now and he’s had sex with countless women.

“Why not?” Jungkook tilts his head.

You’re silent, and Jungkook sighs. “You don’t trust me.”

“I do!”

“Then why don’t you trust me to pleasure you? You’d rather go to my friends than trust me, Y/N. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“I’m sorry.” you quip. “I just don’t think it…looks good?”

Jungkook blinks.

You swallow.

“Of course it looks good.” Jungkook then laughs. “I’ve already seen it.”

“That was years ago.” you murmur, casting your eyes away.

“True. But still. You trust and love me just like I trust and love you.” Jungkook places a hand on your cheek for you to look at him. “If we’re going to do this, you can’t hide your body from me. I’ll have to show you mine, too.”

You nod your head.

“We can start now.”

You inhale deeply. You don’t move, and when Jungkook notices he frowns.

“Y/N. What did I say?”

“Don’t hide from you.” you murmur.

“Exactly. Here. I’ll help you take your clothes off and you can do the same for me.”

Jungkook is slow when he puts his hands at the end of your shirt. He lifts it up and you stiffen, unsure of what to do next. The shirt comes over your head and Jungkook throws it aside.

“Okay?” asks Jungkook, his eyes glancing down to the bra you’re wearing. It’s red and basic, but it hugs your breast perfectly.

You only nod.

“Okay.” Jungkook then goes towards your leggings. They’re tight, but he manages to get his hands inside. He begins to tug and awkwardly, you lift yourself up so he can remove them. Your panties are black and cotton.

“Now you do the same to me.” Jungkook says. He understands you by now, knowing that you’d never take the first move. He grabs your wrists and walks you through it. “Go ahead.”

You’re trembling, you note, as you remove Jungkook’s shirt - an oversize black shirt. You often are reminded how much Jungkook has grown over the years, going from a boy to a man. He worked out often and was athletic. He had many tattoos that litter his skin - you had gone with him for a few of them and pondered how he could sit so calmly.

“I’ll get up to make it easier.” Jungkook lifts from his bed and waits for you to continue. You’re as slow as before, hands trembling more than before. You tug at the sweats he wore, watching as they fall to the ground. You try to hide the fact that you gawk at the bulge in his briefs, swallowing at the sight.

“Y/N.”

You blink up to look at Jungkook.

“You trust me, right?”

You nod your head.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a grin. “Come here.”

Jungkook leans down, his hand grasping your chin. He no longer hesitates or holds back, placing his lips upon yours.

You’re shocked, completely stiff, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You’ll give into him eventually - it may take a few rounds, but you will.

You’re pushed backwards, back hitting the mattress. Jungkook hovers above you, his hands placing themselves onto your shoulders to keep you in place.

You gasp for air when Jungkook removes his lips from yours, but then they’re trailing down your jawline to your neck. You’re breathing heavily, unsure what to do.

“You can touch me.” says Jungkook, as if reading your mind. “Don’t just lay there.”

Jungkook continues to kiss at your neck, his left hand leaving your shoulder and grabs your hand. He places it upon his chest for you to take the lead. His hand then goes to your waist to pull you closer to him.

Your heart thumps that this is happening now - you and Jungkook. Goosebumps litter your skin, the hair standing straight up. But you do as you’re told, hand grabbing Jungkook’s bicep and squeezing it.

Jungkook forces your legs apart, wrapping them around his waist. You yelp when you feel him, his bulge grinding directly against you. There’s a deep groan from Jungkook that you hear coming from your neck.

“You have to engage.” Jungkook lifts slightly to look at your face. “Kiss me like I’m kissing you.”

You’re left stunned when Jungkook flips the both of you, his own back hitting the mattress and now you’re on top of him. He places his hands on your hips, a smirk on his lips. “It’ll be easier for you this way. I’ll let you take the lead.”

There’s a tension - one sided - when you lean down to his own neck.

“You’re still shy. It’s just me.” Jungkook sighs.

It was easier for him to say. He wasn’t the virgin - or the closed off one that has been homeschooled. The only friend she kept was Jungkook, and his friends, but mainly Jungkook. There was no one she could go to that was the same sex that she could vent to about her frustrations.

“Just let loose, Y/N. We’re friends. There’s nothing you can do that’ll make me view you differently.”

You try your best, even closing your eyes in hopes that’d be better. Your lips place themselves at the nape of Jungkook’s neck, and ever so gently did you kiss him. You allowed your hands to rub softly on his bare shoulders, kissing down his neck until you got to his collarbone.

Jungkook hums to himself, his cock twitching to be let loose from his underwear.

You were adjusting - only a bit - but you’d soon be fully accepting. Jungkook allows his hands to dip from your waist and he grabs your ass fully in his grasp.

You swallow, hiding back the surprised gasp. You don’t want Jungkook to think you don’t trust him - because you do. You don’t want to appear utterly shy and closed off. You were older than Jungkook and he had to be the one to show you what life was like, as sad as it was.

“Okay. Now kiss me.”

You nod your head. You want to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, but he doesn’t falter. “You’ll have to look at me eventually, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs.

“I know.” you murmur back, and now meet his eyes. Jungkook smiles when you do, and his head lifts slightly.

Your head dips down to capture his lips in yours once more. There’s a fire running through you this time at the feeling - no longer hesitant or awkward to kiss him. It felt…normal; as if this is something the two of you always did.

Jungkook’s teeth catch your bottom lip and he lightly tugs. “Let loose.” he whispers, and then dives into your mouth again. This time, his tongue pushes past your teeth and meets your own, it’s warm and slimy, but it causes you to moan.

Jungkook’s hands grip your ass, keeping you firmly against his erection. He rubs up your sides for a moment, then on your back. His hands are now on your bra and he appears to be swift in unhooking it.

“Kookie…” you murmur against his lips.

“It’s okay.” Jungkook responds. “You trust me, remember?”

You nod, but trust doesn’t help with your self–consciousness.

Jungkook tugs at your bra until it’s fully off of you. He disgards it, bare hands now taking your breast entirely. He doesn't care how heavy he’s breathing, or how rough his hands squeeze your breast.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook praises.

It’s weird hearing it - for you at least.

Jungkook rarely compliments you - not because he doesn’t think you are, but because he never really has a reason to. He sees you the same everyday - his best friend who he has breakfast, occasionally lunch and dinner with. You’re the same Y/N that he shares movie nights with where the two of you cuddle and laugh at whatever was on the screen.

Now, however, Jungkook has to compliment you. He has to let you know how beautiful you are now - a woman. You grew into your womanly curves over the years, hiding it behind loose clothing, but never truly hiding it. You never hid from him; occasionally wearing shorts that showed your legs and the roundness of your ass, or tank-tops that made your breast appear more plump.

You yelp when Jungkook pinches your nipple. He chuckles at your reaction. “So responsive.” he says, more to himself than to you.

“W-What-”

Jungkook’s tongue licks on your nipple, shuddering at feeling. He couldn’t help but to bring it entirely into his mouth, tongue twirling and suckling on it while his free hand pinches the other. There’s a euphoric feeling engulfing him right now. Yes, he did think about you sexually at times - he was a man and he couldn’t help it. But this was far better than any feeling, any thought or dream he’s ever had.

“Does it feel good?” Jungkook manages to say, popping your nipple from his mouth to just engulf the other one.

“Yes.”

You don’t intend to sound so soft and meek, moaning against Jungkook. But you couldn’t hide it any longer. You can feel the wetness between your legs, arousal pooling out - and Jungkook’s grinding didn’t make it any better.

“You can talk to me, Y/N. You can tell me how much you like it. How I make you feel.”

Jungkook kisses both of your nipples softly.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me how you feel.” Jungkook repeats. “Here,” his right hand drops your breast and without warning, he slaps your ass. The sound echoes, as does you shriek. “I love the way your ass feels.” he then squeezes it in the palm of his hands. “I love the sweet moans coming from those pretty lips of yours.” he continues.

You’re hot, Jungkook’s words cause a new sensation to run through you - nerves running through your body and meeting exactly between your legs.

“It feels good when you touch me.” you say, admitting even if you want nothing more than to hide.

“Yeah?” Jungkook lightly laughs. He squeezes your ass again. “What else?”

You huff, this time now hiding your face. Your head is between his shoulder and neck.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. Just tell me.” Jungkook encourages. “You trust me like I trust you.”

You sigh. Jungkook was going to be the death of you - you were going to die with embarrassment.

“I like the way you look.”

Jungkook, again, is swift with his movement. He’s once more on top of you. He’s now forcing you to look at him - as if you weren’t embarrassed enough.

You go to cover yourself, but that wasn’t something Jungkook was going to allow.

“Go on, Y/N.” Jungkook places a quick peck on your lips before he kisses down your neck to your collarbone.

Your breath is shaky - but it was all Jungkook. His hands rub along your sides as his lips send kisses between your breasts, going lower and lower. “You make me feel…different.”

Jungkook’s lips are now on your stomach. “What’s different?”

“Wet…?”

Jungkook groans. His fingers are hooked between your panties and he wants nothing more than to remove them and dive in, but he’d remain calm for now.

“Look at me, Y/N.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you’re unsure what Jungkook had in store for you.

You do, however, and Jungkook is now directly between your legs. Your thighs quiver at the sight.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks, and before you can answer, he places a single kiss upon your clothed clit.

Your throat tightens.

Jungkook wasn’t going to stop. He wanted to hear you speak - hear your thoughts, whatever moans you had in you. He didn’t want you to be shy - not with him. He wasn’t a stranger and who else should be the one to take your virginity than him?

Not Hoseok.

Not Namjoon.

Not Jimin - none of his friends.

Just Jungkook.

Dare he say he was entitled to it - you were his best friend. He was there for whatever you needed him to be; and this was one thing you didn’t come to him for (not at first). You wanted his assistance in finding you someone. The thought still upsets him.

“Kookie.” you sigh, hands crashing to your face.

“So shy.” Jungkook tsks. His hands grip your waist and he drags you to the edge of the bed, him falling to his knees before you. “I’ll take the lead.”

You feel your panties being tugged off. You’re unsure of what to do or say - you knew you had to keep breathing or you’d pass out. The coolness of the air hits you and now you fully accept that you’re naked for Jungkook, completely bare before his eyes to see.

You’re so wet, Jungkook notes, arousal coating your lips and thighs. The thought of how excited you’ve been and nothing has happened yet makes him groan, anticipating what's to come.

Your throat releases a gasp and instantly, your legs clench shut, caging Jungkook in.

“S-Sorry, i-”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax.” Jungkook laughs, a gleeful tone in his voice. He had done nothing but flick your clit with his tongue. “Watch me, okay?”

You nod your head.

Jungkook hooks his hands right on your thighs, holding them in a firm grip so you wouldn’t be easily reactive - not without him stopping you. He dips his head back between your legs, tongue dipping between your folds.

Your eyes flutter, unable to truly focus on Jungkook like he wants you to.

The sight alone is filthy - his head bobbing back and forth while his tongue assaults your clit. Occasionally, his eyes would dart up to capture your reaction, satisfied that you no longer hid your moans from him.

But the noises Jungkook made were another thing. He suckles on your clit, completely ravishing you as if it was the finest meal. He’s animalistic, not caring. He would draw his head back and spit, then continue his assault upon your clit.

“Kookie, I-I, you need to stop.” you try to get away from Jungkook, but he doesn’t allow it. If anything, Jungkook holds you even tighter. You were going to cum, of course, never truly experiencing a man going down on you. Your stomach churns and you feel like you are going to explode. “Kookie, please stop…”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at you. Your eyes are snapped shut and there’s a few droplets trailing down your cheeks. Jungkook grunts into your pussy. His fingernails dig into your naked flesh, his tongue laying flat against your clit. He continues to ravish you, not caring about your pleas - it was obvious you wanted more and was far too inexperienced to understand it.

Jungkook dives deeper and deeper, your cries only fueling him for more. Your arousal coats the bottom half of his face entirely.

There was another attempt to remove yourself, buckling your hips, but Jungkook only shoves you back down upon the bed. Your toes are curling and you’re unable to see straight. There’s a tightness in your stomach that’s utterly unfamiliar to you.

“I’m not going to stop.”

Jungkook’s voice is deeper - deepest you’ve ever heard it.

“Not until you cum.”

Jungkook’s right hand removes itself from holding your thigh, but that only means he’s holding the other tighter.

Your back arches when you feel his fingers at your entrance.

“I can’t-”

“You will.”

Jungkook doesn’t give a warning before entering his finger’s inside of you. You jump at the foreign feeling. You swallow back and shriek.

“So tight.” Jungkook murmurs to himself.

Two fingers is all you can handle for now. That doesn’t mean Jungkook goes easy on you. He pumps inside of you vigorously, your walls clenching around his digits. Each time he hits a deeper spot that has you jerking.

“I know it feels good, Y/N. My pretty girl.”

You can’t speak, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He pumps and pumps until you’re cumming all over him, arousal splashing onto the hardwood floors of his bedroom.

You’re a crying twitching mess, whimpering to yourself. Jungkook removes his fingers, satisfied with your appearance.

“I could fuck you right now. You’re so wet, Y/N.”

You exhale, eyes snapping open. “Kookie, I-”

“Don’t tell me you can’t take me.”

Jungkook pushes down his underwear and you freeze.

You’ve never seen Jungkook naked before, never going past witnessing him shirtless.

Now Jungkook is as nude as you, cock erect and hard. His tip is red and leaking with pre-cum, the shaft twitching in anticipation.

“I can’t.” you cry, now dwelling on the idea of having sex with the man.

Jungkook snickers. He grips his cock and slaps the tip against your wet clit. So wet, he thinks. Wet and warm, completely aroused because of him.

“You were willing to fuck my friends.”

Jungkook rubs the tip against your clit in slow circular motions. It makes a wet and sloppy sound as he does.

“They don’t love you, Y/N. Not like I do.”

You twitch at the feeling, overstimulated enough, even if it did feel good.

“Don’t you love me, Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes don't leave your clit. He continues to tap and circle the tip of his cock against it, the sight beautiful.

“I do…”

“Then why do you keep denying me pleasure?”

Jungkook removes his hand from his cock to place it upon your hips, keeping you in place. He begins to thrust forward, sliding his entire cock against your clit.

“I allowed you to cum, haven’t i?” Jungkook grunts. “Milked my fingers like a little whore. But you won’t let me fuck you.”

Jungkook’s words cause you to gasp - that and the way his cock feels against your already stimulated clit.

Jungkook’s open’s his mouth, a trail of saliva dripping right onto your clit, not because you needed it - you were literally dripping - but just because he wanted to. In his eyes, spitting upon you was an act of marking his territory and after he fucked you - and he was going to regardless - he would assure that only he would be the one fucking you afterwards; always and forever.

Jungkook continues to rub, his pace quickening.

“Do you think another man would have given you the satisfaction?” Jungkook hisses. “They would’ve fucked you and left, Y/N. This is why I’m here. I love you, my pretty girl…” his tone softens. “...so wet and ready for me. You’ll let me have you, right, Y/N? You’ll let me be the one who takes your virginity?”

Slowly, you nod your head. Jungkook was someone you loved greatly. He was a man and understood how men think - you couldn’t be upset with him now. “Okay…”

Jungkook smiles wide, full set of teeth shining at you. “My pretty girl. You’re always so good for me. Give me your hand.”

You do as Jungkook tells you to do, and he guides your hand to touch his cock. It twitches in your grip.

“Tighten your grip.” Jungkook demands and groans when you do. “Okay, baby…now center it at your pussy.”

You’re being so obedient for him, Jungkook thinks. He watches as you do what he tells you, the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole. “Good girl.” Jungkook mumbles.

“Don’t you need to wear a condom?”

Jungkook wants to laugh at your words. “Condoms are for people who have one night stands. Why would I wear a condom with you?” he asks, a tilt of his head. He had no intention of allowing you to fuck another man, so him not wearing a condom was alright.

You widen your eyes. “Pregnancy…?”

Again, Jungkook laughs. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, only stares into your wide eyes. He had no intention of impregnating you now, but if it happened, then it did. That only meant that it’s what the universe wanted.

“You know I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook says.

“I love you, too.” you respond.

Simpering, Jungkook nods. “I know.” he says, and then without warning, he enters you whole. There’s no warming upm Jungkook thinks, the faster he gets it over with, the faster pleasure will come for you.

When your mouth opens to shriek, Jungkook silences you with his lips. His hips snap inside of you, unable to stop. So tight, he thinks, fully milking his cock with your essence. It’s as though his cock fit perfectly inside of you; like a puzzle piece coming together to complete a set.

The pain is excruciating and you’re unable to pull away from Jungkook. His grip on you was intense, fingers bruising into your skin.

The sound of skin slapping is loud in the room, echoing off the walls.

“My pretty girl.” grumbles Jungkook when he releases your lips. “Thank you for trusting me, Y/N.”

The pain shoots throughout your body, but hearing those words from Jungkook was worth it to you. You blink away the tears so you can focus on his face.

“Soon the pain will go away, and you’ll love the way I fuck you.”

You nod. You trusted Jungkook.

It takes a while for the pleasure to come, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t. Jungkook hits your sweet spot, slamming you against his bed with each thrust. Your moans are loud for him, so sweet and melodic - he knew you had it in you to let loose.

“Feels good, pretty girl?” Jungkook questions, the question rhetorical. He knows by the way you clench around him that it does - that and your high pitched moans.

“Feels…so…good…” you grunt, panting along with each powerful thrust.

“Good.”

Jungkook removes himself just so he can turn you around, chest firmly against his mattress. He enters you once more, hitting even deeper than before.

Your eyes snap shut and your arms shoot out, gripping the bed sheets for support. Whatever you once imagined sex would be like didn’t give it any justice. Sex with Jungkook was a pleasurable feeling you’d never forget - you’re unsure how you’d ever be able to go back to masturbating once this was over.

Both of Jungkook’s hands place themselves on yours, entangling your hangers with his. His lips kiss your back, pounding inside of you with such passion.

There it was again, the churning feeling in your stomach.

“I feel you, baby.” Jungkook pants. It’s as if you never want him to stop, creaming his cock like your life depended on it. “Go ahead and cum for me, pretty girl.”

You groan, shaking your head at how good you felt.

“I love you, Kookie.” you murmur so low that it’s barely audible, but Jungkook hears it loud and clear.

It causes Jungkook to grind into you deeper and deeper, feeling himself come undone at just words. You told him those three words many times before, but now it felt different. Intimate. This was something he’s never heard during sex - and if there was a chance he did, he wouldn’t care.

You were who Jungkook loved; his best friend since childhood.

You were the one who Jungkook wanted to hear the words from.

Jungkook’s cumming, his heaving breaths ticking the skin of your back. He doesn't bother to pull out of you, instead he milks your walls completely with his seed, shuddering with complete bliss.

Jungkook won’t regret it - cumming inside of you felt right. It wasn’t as if anyone else would be.

“My pretty girl.” Jungkook coos, pulling out of you to tuck you further into his bed. He lays beside you, embracing you from behind. “You did so good for me.”

Your heart swells at the compliment, your eyes heavy with slumber.

Jungkook holds you tight as you drift to sleep, satisfied that you were here with him.

Not Hoseok or Namjoon or anyone else - but him.

After all, he was the only one who truly loved you for who you are and didn’t see you as just a hole to fill - he wasn’t like those other men out in the world. No, Jungkook was better than any man you could ever think about being with. He proceeds to place a kiss upon your temple, satisfied that you were his and his alone.

idol version

#best friends!#trivia-yandere #trivia-yandere masterlist #btswritingcafe #bangtan smut #btswriterscollective #yandere bts #bangtanwritershq #bangtanwriters net #jungkook smut #btswritersclub #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bff jungkook #방탄소년단

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coco-loco-nut · 7 months ago

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Book Club - Part 3

Pairing: Grid X Reader, Lance X Reader

Summary: lewis get a new song inspired by one of the book they read that week, a little lance relationship focused as well

a/n: even as an avid reader, i struggle so much choosing books for this 🥲, sorry if this one sucks

requests open 🫶✨ masterlist

—————————

“Alright boys, get ready to swoon!” You pull out copies of your chosen book, The Dead Romantics. After reading classics and adventure, and thrillers, you chose chick-lit. It had been recommended on other book club chatboards, so you deemed it safe for the guys.

“Same time, same place next week,” Daniel grabs a book and walks out. The rest file out of the motor home, books in hand. You follow Fernando to Aston Martin.

“Lance, your girlfriend is here for you,” Fernando calls for him before you can. “Good choice, I enjoyed this one the last time I read it,” Fernando says before walking to his room, leaving you stunned.

“Hello, mon cœur,” Lance kisses you before grabbing your hand and taking you to his room.

“What is the book this week,” He asks once you cuddle up on the couch. Since he found out about the club, he’s been reading the books with you.

“The Dead Romantics, first one to finish gets to choose the next date,” you hand him his copy before starting your own. Lance’s assistant brings in coffees and breakfast for you both while you read.

“When we get married, would you change your last name, combine ours, let me take yours, or leave our names as is,” Lance asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm, I like the sound of Y/n Stroll, but maybe I’ll still race under my name,” you decide, paying attention to the books, thinking about the predetermined discussion questions.

“Fuck,” Lance groans after his phone went off, quickly bookmarking his page.

“What’s wrong baby?” you ask, bookmarking yours as well.

“I have a meeting with Dad in a few minutes,”

“Oh, want me to come along? I love your dad,” you run your fingers through his fluffy hair.

“It’s okay, it’ll take a while. You are more than welcome to stay here or go and get ready for the drivers parade. Either way, I will see you after,” he kisses you before gathering a couple things and heading out. You finish another chapter and head to your motorhome, dressing yourself in team gear and redoing your hair. Lance waits for you outside your team garage.

By next week, you both have finished the book and have been raving about it to people, you even sent a copy to George. You won the challenge, although you were sure Lance let you win.

“Have fun at your meeting, you are literally bouncing in excitement,” Lance laughs, kissing the side of your head and leaving you in front of Haas’ hospitality. You quickly find the club, who are equally happy with your pick.

“That was the best romance book I’ve read in a while,” Daniel starts off.

“It was my second time reading it. Much better than the first time,” Fernando agrees.

“And the plot twist!” Nico gasps, all of you nodding along.

“I wrote a song about it,” Lewis says nonchalantly, causing you all to pause.

“Lew… what?” You can’t imagine how one would write a song about it. The book was good, but it wasn’t Shakespeare.

“Yeah, the broken hearts, the forbidden nature of their love, separated by the paranormal, the spiciness of the ending. It inspired me, almost like all those songs for Fifty Shades of Grey,” Lewis explains.

“I don’t know how that would work, but I am sure that you made it work,” Kevin says as Lewis pulls out his phone.

You heard some of his music before, and you knew he could sing and his writing was pretty good. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The singing was great, but the lyrics were a little too… sappy for his style. It wasn’t even sensual, he was just singing about falling in love with someone you shouldn’t.

“That was great, Lewis,” Daniel encourages Lewis,

“If racing doesn’t work out, maybe you will have a career in music,” Valtteri offers, maybe you were the only one who wasn’t a fan.

“He already does, he was featured on a song,” Fernando rushes to pull it up on his phone. You swear he is the proud father of everyone in the room.

“Oh! We should do karaoke!” you gasp, excited at the thought.

“I like the way you think,” Daniel grins at you. It is usually never a good thing when you both get excited about an idea, it tends to end up with alcohol and regret, but never fails to be fun.

“My liver can take that right now, I would participate,” Checo says, leading the group in agreeing.

You and the other drivers rent out a bar the next night and make sure karaoke is set up, Lando DJs in the meantime.

“I’m going to sing my song!” Lewis tells you over your jolly rancher shots.

“Slay!” you cheers the shots, tap the glass to the bar, and take the shot. “I think I’m gonna sing Post Malone,” you reply, and Lewis drags you to sign up. Lance appears beside you, slipping an arm around your waist as he looks at the paper.

“Babe, what song is ‘Why Don’t You Love Me’, I have never seen it on an album,” Lance asks and you tell him its origin. “Oh, that’s funny, I’ll film it,” he writes both of your names down for Total Eclipse of the Heart.

A few shots later and Lewis kicks it off with his song, it is actually a lot better drunk. You follow him up with the meme song, getting everyone laughing, before Lance joins you. The two of you surprisingly sounded very good when you rewatched the video the next day, then posted it to your Instagram story.

“Never. Again.” Kevin groans the next morning as Valtteri walks in, excited to talk with the group.

“That was fun! When are we doing that again?”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lance stroll x reader #formula one grid #the grid x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid #lance stroll #valtteri bottas #checo perez #lewis hamilton #kevin magnussen #nico hulkenberg #daniel ricciardo #book club

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m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months ago

Text

Synopsis: You find yourself developing a crush on mischievous soccer player Eita Otoya. The only problem? Eita and relationships don’t exactly go hand in hand — which is something you’re only all too aware of, considering he just so happens to be your best friend’s older brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Karasu Version

Pairing: Otoya x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 12.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, otoya is a red flag let’s not lie to ourselves, he’s lowkey ooc at the end, reader says ‘i can NOT fix him’ but then accidentally manages to anyways, otoya plays video games but sucks at them, otoya’s younger sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘otoya’s younger sister’ the entire time), std jokes, your honor eita otoya IS a loser

A/N: yes this is based off the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious. yes this is probably the dumbest otoya fic you will ever read (i promise i’ve written him better before). yes this is four times longer than it was supposed to be. idk what to say either i just get carried away LMAO

On the first day of your first year of middle school, you were told by your teacher to sit next to an entirely disagreeable looking girl. Her round face was adorned with a scowl, and there was a scrape on the bridge of her nose. She had silvery hair cut in a choppy bob, and blunt bangs streaked with green covered her forehead. When she noticed you staring at her in surprise, she made a face at you.

“What do you want?” she said.

“I’m supposed to sit here,” you said. “Teacher said so.”

“Whatever,” she said with a scoff. You gave her an uneasy look as you set your things down beside her, sliding into your chair and watching her out of the corner of your eye. If she noticed, she did not care, gripping her pencil in her hand so hard it was a miracle it did not snap in half, her scowl deepening as she looked over the introduction sheet you all had been given to fill out.

“I’m Y/N L/N,” you offered meekly, not wanting to accidentally offend her. She seemed like the kind of girl you really shouldn’t mess with, not if you wanted to keep your life and limbs intact.

She glanced at you. “Seiko Otoya.”

“Nice to meet you, Otoya,” you said.

“Seiko,” she said firmly. “Nobody calls me Otoya ‘cause I have two older siblings and it’s confusing.”

“Ah, but neither of your siblings are here, so it wouldn’t be confusing,” you pointed out before you could stop yourself. Seiko gave you an annoyed look.

“So what? Everyone’s been calling me Seiko since I can remember, so if you try to get my attention by saying Otoya I won’t realize,” she said. “What’s your problem with it?”

“I don’t have a problem,” you said, pulling out a pencil of your own and filling out your introduction sheet. Your handwriting was ten times nicer than Seiko’s, you noticed — she had a messy scrawl that was barely legible, especially when compared to your neat print.

“That’s great to hear, L/N,” she said, shoving her arm over her paper so you couldn’t look at it any longer. “Quit copying me.”

“Of all the assignments to copy on, do you really think I’d pick this one? It wouldn’t even make sense, since all of the information is about ourselves. See, this one asks about our families,” you said, tapping your eraser against the question you were referring to. “It’s not like I would write that I have two older siblings, because I don’t, even though you do.”

Seiko scoffed, puffing her cheeks out and turning back to her work with a pout. “Fine.”

You had been hoping that you’d befriend your desk partner, considering you didn’t know anyone at the middle school. All of your friends from primary school lived across town from you, so they were attending another middle school, which had the unfortunate effect of leaving you by yourself. Unfortunately, it seemed like you were out of luck when it came to making friends with the girl beside you, because Seiko was surly at best and downright hostile at worst.

When the bell rang to signify the end of the first half of the day as well as the beginning of the lunch break, you all but leapt out of your seat, speed-walking towards the cafeteria as fast as you could, eager to avoid another stiff conversation with Seiko. For her part, she rolled her eyes, taking her own time to gather her things and push in her chair, ignoring you completely all the while.

In your haste, you didn’t watch where you were going, and because of your shyly-ducked head, you ran straight into the back of a tall, heavy-set boy.

“What is wrong with you?” he snapped, spinning around to face you. He had close-cropped hair and thick brows, a narrow mouth pressed into a taut line, and a pinched, ruddy face.

“I’m sorry,” you said immediately.

“You made me drop my chocolate milk,” he said. “Apologize again, and give me money to pay for more!”

“Your chocolate milk is still in your hand,” you said quietly. He glared at you, and then, before you could react, he was unscrewing the cap and pouring its contents all over you.

“Like I said,” he said. “You made me drop it.”

“What — why would you do that?” you sputtered. You had thought that middle school would be much the same as elementary had been, only with different people, but this never would’ve happened, even just last year. You looked around wildly for a teacher, but there were none; though you were surrounded by laughing peers, you realized that you were alone in this hallway, completely and utterly alone. Everyone was laughing at you and milk was dripping down your once-white shirt and you were alone and things could not get worse.

The boy held out his hand. Things got worse. “Gimme your lunch money, freak.”

You stared at him blankly, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. He tapped his foot, and slowly, when you understood that you had no choice, you reached into your pocket, fumbling around for the bit of change you had brought with you.

Suddenly, someone slapped your wrist lightly — in reprimand, and not hard enough that it hurt, but so that you were startled and ceased your actions immediately. Looking up, you saw it was Seiko Otoya, looking much the same as she had earlier, though her cheeks bloomed with a rose-colored flush as she jabbed a finger at the boy.

“Who do you think you’re messing with, huh?” she shouted, loudly enough that you were surprised no adults were alarmed. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Seiko?” he said. “I didn’t know you were—”

She let out a challenging war cry and then lunged at him. You gasped as she tackled him to the ground and socked him in the nose, looking entirely ridiculous all the while. It was like watching a chihuahua beat up a mastiff; Seiko was tiny compared to the boy, but vicious, not even giving him a moment to breathe as she rammed her fists into his face, over and over.

“Miss Otoya!” an authoritative voice said, cutting through the brawl. “What is the meaning of this?”

Your teacher stood before you, one of your classmates at her side. When Seiko did not move, she yanked her off of the boy, helping him stand and giving Seiko a stern look.

“He spilled milk on L/N and tried to take her lunch money, so I was just trying to give him a taste of his own medicine,” Seiko said with a shrug.

“You should’ve come to me, not taken matters into your own hands,” your teacher said, massaging her temples when she saw the state of your uniform. “Do you have anything to say to this young man?”

Seiko squinted at the boy, his bloody nose and shivering frame, and then she nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go on, then,” your teacher said. Seiko placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry—” she began. Your teacher nodded encouragingly. “—that I didn’t hit you harder. You could’ve gotten surgery and fixed that ugly nose of yours if I had actually managed to break it. I’ll do better next time, promise.”

The boy burst into tears. Seiko was sent to detention, giggling all the while. You were given a new uniform and the knowledge that there was at least this one person in the school who was on your side.

It was only natural that, after such an ordeal, you and Seiko ended up as fast friends. Her gruff exterior never softened any, but you found that she was kinder than she let on, and lonely in her own way.

“I learned that move from one of the wrestling matches my older brother likes to watch,” she explained to you a few days later. “I’ve been itching to try it out, so thanks for giving me the opportunity.”

“Itching to try it out?” you said in wonder, accepting the orange slice she handed you and biting into it.

“You know, I beat up 95% of the boys in my kindergarten,” she said thoughtfully. Despite the far-fetched number, you were inclined to believe her. “I’m kind of the opposite of my siblings in that sense. They’re both super popular, especially my brother Eita, but I’ve never been like that. I’m the sort of person that people generally stay far away from.”

“Well, I’m not staying far away from you,” you said.

“Right,” she said, cracking her knuckles with a smirk. “Who knows when that guy or his lackeys will come back to take revenge on you? You’ve gotta keep me around for a while, just in case.”

It was the best she could offer in terms of friendship, so you only smiled and said that you would.

You visited her house for the first time the following summer, during that part of the season when the days were long and faded into night so slowly that you could even fall asleep while it was still light out. She invited you in and then immediately tugged you after her, not bothering to offer an explanation, as was her way. You stumbled up the stairs, trying to keep pace as she whipped around a corner and knocked frantically on a shut door.

“What?” a muffled voice shouted from inside of the room.

“It’s Seiko, open up!” she shouted back. “I have to show you something!”

The door opened to reveal a boy. He was a year or so older than you and Seiko, with a delicate, handsome face and a slender, willowy build. His hair, which boasted the same strange coloring as Seiko’s, fell into low-lidded eyes that narrowed with irritation when they settled upon his younger sister.

“What is it?” he said. “I was in the middle of playing a game with my friends.”

“Look,” she said, placing her hands on your shoulders proudly. “You said you didn’t believe I had a friend, but I do, see? This is Y/N L/N, and she’s here to hang out with me!”

Her brother seemed unimpressed. “Did you have to rough her up a bit or something to get her to agree to it?”

“No!” Seiko said. “She actually likes me, right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you said, confused at what kind of argument you had accidentally found yourself in the middle of. “Um, Seiko’s my best friend at school, and she’s never beaten me up or anything, so…”

“Holy crap, you must be desperate,” he said.

“Hey!” Seiko said, kicking him in the shin. He winced and promptly slammed the door on your faces.

“You suck!” he said. “I have a soccer game tomorrow, so you’re lucky you didn’t permanently injure me!”

“I wish I had!” she said. “Come on, Y/N. He’s a jerk. Let’s go swimming. Did you bring a bathing suit? If not, you can borrow one of mine.”

“I have one,” you said. “Wait, so was that your older brother? The one who watches wrestling matches and all?”

“Yeah, that’s Eita. He’s in the grade ahead of us. I guess you could say we’re closer with each other than with our older sister, since she’s already finished high school, but to be honest, he’s dumb and mean, so we don’t get along very well,” she said.

“I picked up on that,” you said. “He seriously didn’t believe you had any friends?”

“No!” she said. “I told you back when we first met that he and our sister are super popular and I’m not, didn’t I? The thing is that he’s aware of that, too, and he always teases me for it, so when I told him I actually had made a friend, he acted like I was making it up. That’s why I took you to meet him, but he just had to go and be annoying about it! Ugh. I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”

“That’s the worst. Oh, and he plays soccer?” you said. She gave you a strange look.

“Mhm, why?” she said.

“Dunno,” you said. “Just wondering.”

Even you weren’t sure why you were curious about Eita Otoya. Your first interaction with him had hardly been memorable, and if anything you should really despise him for being rude to Seiko. But wasn’t it common for siblings to fight? That didn’t mean he was a bad person, did it?

Actually, it was irrelevant. You doubted you would see much of him, so no matter the quality of his character, he wasn’t someone you needed to be thinking of as anything more than your best friend’s brother. Resolving to push it aside, you spent the rest of the summer with Seiko by their pool, eating popsicles and playing mermaids and getting into splash fights and entirely ignoring whatever signs of her brother’s existence presented themselves.

In fact, until you and Seiko began high school, your path hardly crossed with Eita Otoya’s. He was always out with his friends whenever you came over, and the things he preferred to do had such little overlap with yours and Seiko’s interests that it was as if he did not even live in the Otoya household at all. Indeed, you saw more of their older sister, who was already in college, than you did him, and he became nothing but a vague thought in the back of your mind, only considered when you saw a random sock on their kitchen floor or a soccer jersey thrown across the back of the armchair in their living room.

All of this changed when you and Seiko became high schoolers and she joined the swim team. Her practice hours were long and irregular, which meant there were often times that you’d sit around her house, doing homework while you waited for her to come back. Some days she was only five minutes late; others, it was half an hour or more. It was frustrating, but it could not be helped, so you learned quickly that you should bring something to entertain yourself with if you dared to head to the Otoya household on a day she had swimming — which was every day, or so it seemed.

“Hey. You’re L/N, right? Seiko’s friend?”

You were pulled out of writing a history paper by someone speaking to you curiously. When you looked up, you saw that it was Eita Otoya, a brown paper bag in his hands and a friendly smile on his face. He set the bag on the counter and rummaged about in one of their cabinets, pulling out two plates while he gazed at you, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I am,” you said, omitting the fact that you had been coming to his house for years, seeing no merit in bringing it up. “You’re her older brother.”

“Yup,” he said, emptying the contents of the bag onto one of the plates. “I can’t believe you’re doing homework at your best friend’s house.”

“She was supposed to be back half an hour ago, but I think one of her teammates pissed the coach off, so they all got held back again,” you said. “I figured I might as well be productive while I waited for her.”

“Smart,” he said. “Want some?”

He held up the plate filled with churros at you. You furrowed your brow, feeling entirely awkward — this was probably the longest conversation you had ever had with him, and certainly the only one you had had without Seiko present.

“Uh, sure,” you said.

“Good choice, these things are delicious,” he said, shaking his head as he heaped a generous portion onto the other plate. Pulling out the chair across from you, he handed you your plate and then sat down with a dreamy exhale. “I swear they put crack in them or something.”

“It’s possible,” you said, debating whether you should close your laptop before deciding you might as well. It wouldn’t do for your keyboard to get sticky with cinnamon sugar, and it would probably be rude of you to have it out while he was sitting with you.

You both were quiet for a while — you were too unsure of what to say to him, so you opted for silence, and he was distracted with eating his churros and texting someone on his phone. Maybe you should’ve kept your laptop open after all.

“Say, L/N,” he said. “If you were a girl—”

“I am a girl,” you interrupted him, somewhat put-out that he had forgotten that. He rolled his eyes and took another bite out of a churro, chewing and swallowing it before responding.

“Obviously,” he said. “You didn’t let me finish. If you were a girl who was dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?”

“You could’ve just phrased it like ‘if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?’ You didn’t have to specify the ‘if you were a girl’ part,” you muttered. It was a childish thing to be hung up about, but for some reason it really irritated you to think that he thought of you as something other than you really were.

He cocked his head at you, like he was trying to discern whether you were really being serious or not. He must’ve decided that you were, for he chuckled. It was not quite condescending but bordering on it, and it did not improve your mood any.

“Alright, I’m sorry. That’s my bad. Well, if you were dating someone, and they cheated on you, what would you do?” he said.

“I’d be upset and break up with them immediately, duh,” you said.

“Why?” he said.

“What do you mean why?” you said incredulously. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“I’m not sure. No one’s ever cheated on me before,” he said with an impish grin, leaning over the table and snatching one of the churros off of your plate. “That’s why I wanted to know what you think.”

“No one’s ever cheated on me before, either. I’ve never even dated someone. That’s just the kind of thing where you already know what you’d do, though you hope it never happens,” you said.

“You’ve never dated someone? But you’re so pretty,” he said. You coughed, a bit of the churro that you had just swallowed sticking against your throat peculiarly at the compliment, which he had tossed out so casually it was as if he had just been commenting on the weather.

“Thanks,” you said. “Anyways, er, like I was saying — like I was saying, I wouldn’t stay with a cheater. Not ever.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, taking your empty plate, stacking it atop his own, and setting both in the sink. Running his hands under a stream of water so that there wasn’t any residue left on them, he shook his head. “It isn’t that big of a deal, you know. Like, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” you said. “Of course it means something. It means you don’t have any respect for the person you’re dating, and I wouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me, so why would I stay with someone who cheated? Plus, I’m sure you’ve heard what they all say — once a cheater, always a cheater. If they did it before, they’ll do it again.”

“That’s not very conducive to a growth mindset,” he said, patting his hands dry on a red-striped dish towel.

“Maybe not,” you said. “But people who cheat can grow somewhere far away from me.”

“That sounds like my cue to leave,” he said with a two-fingered salute. “I used to wonder why you were friends with Seiko, but to be honest, I can see it now.”

Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he had left the kitchen, running up to his room, taking the steps two at a time. You were rendered absolutely bewildered, your sugary fingers and your unfinished essay and the two empty plates in the sink serving as the only proof that the conversation had even happened in the first place.

“Your brother’s really weird,” you said to Seiko when she got back, smelling faintly of chlorine, though you knew she had already showered at the pool. She cringed.

“Tell me about it. What did he do this time?” she said, pulling a large sweatshirt on, her hair sticking up every which way afterwards.

“He gave me churros and asked me what I’d do if someone cheated on me,” you said. She snorted.

“Sounds like him,” she said. “He’s kind of a serial dater, you see. He doesn’t tell me much, mostly because I’d be seriously grossed out by it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a cheater, too. Seriously, I don’t even know how we’re related. He’s the worst. I’d tell him to stop if I thought that he’d actually listen to me.”

“Oh,” you said.

“Don’t be so gloomy,” she said, elbowing you in the side affectionately. “It’s not like you’ll ever get with him, so why are you worried? I’d never let you date a cheater like that. Seriously, if you ever get a boyfriend—”

“If?” you said.

“You know what I mean. Anyways, like I was saying, I’ll beat him up if he cheats on you, whoever he might be!” she said, flexing her biceps, which were admittedly impressive, albeit hidden by the puffy sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“What if it’s your brother?” you said.

“Ew, why would it be him?” she said, pretending to gag. “Never date Eita. You deserve way better. He’s like a walking STD, probably. Just being in the same room with him is enough to give anyone herpes.”

“It was just a hypothetical question. And also, don’t you live with him? That’s nasty, do you have herpes, too?” you said. She ran her hands through her hair in a futile attempt to tame it; you reached into your backpack and pulled out a comb, tossing it at her.

“I’m immune because we’re related,” she said. “They only transfer if you have those kinds of intentions, so you’re safe for now, but I’m just saying, he’s a genuine health risk to be around. And to answer your question, yeah, I’d take any opportunity to punch him, so if he cheated on you I’d go at it doubly hard!”

“That makes it seem like I’m more of an excuse for you to mess with your brother than you actually wanting to defend my honor or anything,” you said.

“There’s a bit of both factoring into the decision,” she admitted. “Let’s stop thinking about it, though. I’m feeling itchy in places I should not be feeling itchy at just the prospect of you guys being together.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” you informed her. She stuck her tongue out at you, and the topic was, in turn, forgotten.

For some reason, though, you found yourself showing up at the Otoyas’ house earlier and earlier. Not enough to draw suspicion, but enough that you almost always had at least a couple of minutes there by yourself. Mr. and Mrs. Otoya had long ago grown accustomed to your presence and treated you more like another daughter than anything, so they didn’t find it strange, and Seiko’s older sister had recently moved into her own apartment nearer to her university, so she didn’t even realize that it was happening.

In fact, there was only one consequence to this newfound habit of yours: in the many moments before Seiko returned from her practices, you struck up a friendship with her brother, Eita.

Things were awkward at first, you couldn’t deny it. He didn’t have much interest in you, and in fact it seemed like he only entertained you because it would be even worse if he didn’t.

“Oh, you’re here again,” he’d say if he got back from soccer before Seiko came back from swimming. “No Seiko?”

“Not yet,” you’d say, a poster board or worksheet or laptop in front of you. “She should be back in a few minutes. We’re supposed to finish this project together.”

“I told her she should’ve picked soccer,” he’d say with a laugh. “We always finish on time.”

“Cool,” you’d say, because how else could you respond? He’d raise his eyebrows at you, and then, if he felt generous, he’d give you a churro. If not, he’d dart off to his room, mumbling some excuse about having to call one of his friends or something, which you never responded to, because it was mostly unimportant to you.

There wasn’t any huge reasoning behind it. Talking to Eita Otoya wasn’t particularly stimulating, and though you certainly found him good-looking, you wouldn’t go so far as to say you had a crush on him. Mostly, you found him to be a bit of an enigma, and if in figuring him out, you got a few churros out of it, then you supposed it was a fair enough deal, but it wasn’t like you were seeking out his company or anything.

Eventually, he seemed to warm to you a bit more, though you were still standoffish, Seiko’s warning ever-present in the back of your mind — the one regarding walking STDs and herpes and whatnot. You never brought it up with him, but that really was the cause of your shyness, not — not anything else. Definitely not anything else. Why would you be shy around him of all people?

“Hey, L/N,” he’d say nowadays, greeting you cheerfully and sitting next to you as you did your homework. “How’re things going?”

“They’re good, thank you,” you’d say, scooting away from him inconspicuously. Herpes. STDs. Genuine health risk. Oh, he smells really nice…

“I’m doing well myself,” he’d respond, despite the fact that you typically didn’t bother with asking. “Still no Seiko?”

“Nope,” you’d say with a sigh. “Still no Seiko.”

He’d wrinkle his nose. “Damn. Sorry to hear it.”

“It’s fine,” you’d say. “She’ll be here soon, and she’ll probably be full of complaints about her coach.”

“I’d stick around until then, but unfortunately, my PC is calling,” he’d say, or he’d give some other such goofy excuse that was obviously designed to pull a laugh out of you and usually did. “See you around, L/N.”

“Later,” you’d say. “Have fun with your PC.”

It was nice. You wouldn’t say you were close with him by any means — definitely not as close as you were with his sister — but the two of you got along. You didn’t know much about him, and you doubted he knew much about you, but you both could hold enough of a conversation that you began to actually look forward to spending time with him.

Only because he was oddly funny in his own way, and kind of sweet, too. It had nothing to do with how nice his laugh sounded or how bright his grin was or the way he spoke to you, gently but also mischievously. You didn’t even notice these things, not one bit.

“Y/N!” he said one Saturday, banging into the kitchen excitedly. At some point, you had indeed become Y/N to him, though you couldn’t quite place when that shift had occurred. “No Seiko?”

“She’s at a meet,” you said. “She told me she’d come back once she was done with her races, but she texted me a few minutes ago that her coach is making her stay for the entire thing, and she doesn’t know how long it’ll take. I thought about going home, but then I thought that, since I’m already here, I should just wait for her.”

“I’m surprised you’re not doing homework,” he said, hopping onto the counter, a box in his hands, ostensibly filled with churros.

“It’s Saturday,” you pointed out. “I did all of my weekend work yesterday so I could be free today and tomorrow. Seiko and I were supposed to have a movie marathon, so I didn’t want to be distracted.”

“Supposed to?” he said, wandering around his kitchen, taking out cutlery and plates with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

“Who knows when she’ll get back? Hopefully, it’s soon, but I’m sure you’re aware of how random the meet schedules can be, so we might run out of time to have a marathon proper,” you said.

“It’s like I always say,” he said.

“She should’ve picked soccer,” you completed for him. “What makes you bring that up today?”

“Our matches are timed,” he said. “No uncertainty there. Look, forget about that for a moment. I walked past this bakery on my way back from soccer practice, and they were having a sale, so I stopped in. I asked Seiko, and she said you like these. Is that true? Because if she was lying, I’m gonna kill her.”

Instead of churros like you had expected, he was holding a plate of cupcakes, frosted in pastel shades, crystal sprinkles glittering under the ceiling lights. They were beautiful, like little flowers or jewels, and you beamed as he put them on the table and waited for you to speak.

“No way!” you said. “Are these from that place by the park? I’ve been wanting to go there for ages, but their stuff is so expensive that I could never justify it. I can’t believe they had a sale! Thank goodness you happened to walk past. I would’ve cried if I missed my chance to try their stuff.”

“So, as a girl, you’re impressed by this?” he said as you unwrapped one of the cupcakes and shoved it in your mouth. You gave him a surprised look, your chin covered in icing, sweet cake filling your cheeks. He suppressed a laugh, handing you a napkin as you rapidly chewed and swallowed.

“What d’you mean?” you said.

“I’m trying something new,” he explained. “Buying flowers is kinda lame nowadays; plus, if I get cupcakes instead, then I can also have some, so it’s a win-win.”

“I see,” you said, dabbing at your face with the napkin.

“I thought I’d ask for your feedback, since you’re the only girl I talk to regularly. Besides Seiko, obviously, but it’s not like I’m going to ask my little sister about this kind of stuff,” he said.

“I’d say I was pretty impressed,” you said. “However, I would also say you shouldn’t mention that you got them on sale.”

“Of course I wouldn’t mention that to a girl I was actually interested in,” he said. “I just told you because I knew you’d refuse to eat them otherwise.”

“That’s true,” you said. “Buying these at full price would’ve been stupid in any situation, but especially so because it’s not like you’re trying to be nice to me or anything.”

“You make me sound like a villain,” he complained. “I still got them for you, didn’t I? Why does it matter what my reasons were?”

“Your reasons are kind of villainous,” you said. “You got them for me so I could tell you whether your new strategy for picking up girls was a winner or not.”

“I compensated you for your services!” he said. “What kind of villain would do that? By the way, is it? A winner, I mean.”

“I think so, but everyone’s different. It could work with one person and not another,” you said.

“Good enough for me,” he said, patting you on the head. You paid him no mind — not true, even the lighthearted touch made you feel all squirmy and strange — and pulled out your phone, which had just vibrated with a text.

It was Seiko, and you sighed as you read the message. Eita peered over your shoulder and then hummed sympathetically.

“Ooh, is that Seiko? Yikes,” he said.

‘now the coach is making us all go to dinner as a team :/ we can have our movie marathon another time?? sorry i made you wait and then stood you up.’

A second later, your phone buzzed again.

‘i feel like eita LMAO omg pls don’t slap me like his last ex did. i’ll make it up to you another time PROMISE!!’

You would’ve laughed, but you felt so discouraged by her earlier text that you could only muster up a half-smile. Eita gasped in offense when he read the second message, drawing back and sticking his nose in the air, folding his arms over his chest.

“I can’t believe she’s airing my business out to you like that,” he said.

“I can’t believe you got slapped by your last ex,” you said, though the words lacked the teasing bite that they should’ve had. He frowned at you.

“Are you just going to go home now?” he said.

“Guess so, since Seiko won’t be back until tonight,” you said. “Oh, well. At least I got cupcakes. I’m sure the girl that you stood up wasn’t so lucky.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he said. “No, she wasn’t.”

“And you claimed you weren’t a villain,” you said, shaking your head in disappointment. “See you later. Thanks for the cupcakes.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then, just as abruptly, closed it again. You arched a brow at him, but he only smiled at you.

“See you,” he said, putting the cupcakes back in the box and handing it to you. “Take these.”

“Don’t you want them?” you said. He had never given you the extras of anything he had ever bought before, preferring to keep them so he could eat them later that night or for breakfast the next day.

“Nah, I got them for you, so you should keep them,” he said. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime,” you said, your fingertips brushing against his as he handed you the box. A burst of static electricity shocked you, and you bit back a hiss as you accepted it from him, not wanting to seem whiny when he hadn’t even reacted.

“Hold on,” he said as you made your way to the door. “Listen, if she stands you up again, I’ll watch the movies with you.”

“Really? They’re not your genre, so I’m sure you’ll be bored,” you said.

“You don’t even know what my genre is,” he said.

“Maybe not,” you said. “I’ll take you up on that, then, so I hope you meant it.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” he said.

“You’re not half-bad, you know,” you said thoughtfully, tucking the box under your arm so you could unlock the front door. “Seiko always calls you mean, but you’re pretty nice.”

“If she was half as agreeable as you, I wouldn’t have to be mean!” he said. “It’s way easier to be nice to you than anyone else, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that. What even were you to him? Just his little sister’s best friend, or something different? Were the two of you genuinely friends, or were you just the girl he asked for help with his stupid relationships that never lasted for longer than a week? Did he like you? Did you like him? No, of course you didn’t. This was Eita Otoya. You could never like him, not if you valued your friendship with Seiko or the well-being of your heart. You didn’t like him. You didn’t, you didn’t, you didn’t.

“That’s good,” you said finally. “Thanks again.”

“Bye,” he said.

“Bye,” you said, and with a final look at him, you let the door swing shut and turned towards your home.

The next day, you got up early so that you could make it to the bakery before they ran out of their best wares. Eita hadn’t specified how long the sale lasted, and if there was even a chance that it was still ongoing, you wanted to take advantage of it.

Thanks to the odd hour, there wasn’t a line outside of the bakery, and you felt confident as you walked into the warm, dough-scented building. It was airy and bright, flowers and sweets in the windowsill, the display cases well-lit and stocked with a multitude of desserts. Plants hung from the ceiling, and the pale wallpaper was covered with floral motifs, small birds perching amongst the blooms. The bakery itself was so beautiful that you almost forgot what you were there for until one of the employees cleared her throat.

“Can I help you, miss?” she said.

“Hi!” you said. “A friend of mine mentioned that you were having a sale yesterday. Is that still happening?”

“A sale? We don’t do sales here, I’m afraid. Is it possible that they went somewhere else?” she said.

“No, he specifically said the place by the park,” you said, furrowing your brow. “Are you sure you didn’t happen to have a sale?”

“Positive,” she said. “I was working yesterday, too, so if you describe him, I can let you know if he came or not.”

“He’s about this tall,” you said, holding up your hand at approximately Eita’s height. “Plays soccer, silver hair with a green streak—”

“Yes! He came in right around lunchtime yesterday and bought cupcakes,” she said. “Um, is he single, by any chance?”

“As good as,” you said. You had no idea what the state of his romantic life was, but considering how quickly he jumped from girl to girl, there was almost no point in saying that he was taken. “If he ever comes back, feel free to make a move on him. He’d probably appreciate it. Moving on, do you mean to say that he got those at full price?”

“He would’ve had to,” she said. “Like I said, we don’t do sales. We’re not that kind of establishment.”

“I might faint when you answer this, so please be slow and careful when you do, but how much, exactly, is full price for what he bought?” you said. “Out of curiosity.”

She told you. You did not faint, but it was such an exorbitant number that, for a moment, you really thought you might.

The next Saturday evening, you went to the Otoyas’ with a wad of cash in your hand. Seiko and her parents were away the entire weekend for an invitational meet, but for once, she was not the one you had gone to visit, so this was of little consequence to you.

You rang the doorbell and waited with crossed arms, the humid air oppressive against your skin. According to your weather app, it was going to rain soon, and you pursed your lips at the thought that Eita might not be home and you’d get caught in the downpour with nothing to show for it.

Luckily, the door opened, revealing him standing there in a pair of shorts, his hair still damp and a towel around his neck. You focused very hard on pretending like he was wearing a shirt, even though he was not, and it worked well enough that you could just barely greet him properly.

“Y/N? Hey, I’m sorry you walked all this way, but Seiko’s not home. Did she forget to tell you she’s gone for the weekend?” he said.

“No, I’m here for you,” you said.

“Huh?” he said.

“Not like that! I mean, I went to that bakery, and the girl working there told me they never have sales, which means you paid full price for those cupcakes. That’s insane! I can’t accept that,” you said.

“So, what, are you gonna vomit them out at my feet or something? That sounds gross, please don’t,” he said.

“I’m paying you back,” you said, extending your hand and offering him the money. “Don’t even think about refusing. I already feel horrible.”

“No way,” he said. “It was a present. You don’t pay people back for presents, that’s like a faux pas or something. I think. Er, I’d have to look it up to be certain, but I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon.”

“I didn’t even do anything present-worthy, so why would you give me one?” you said.

“Yeah, you did. You helped me out, remember? Gave me advice and all,” he said.

“That was hardly worth all of this!” you said. “Seriously, at least take a little bit.”

“Nah,” he said. “You should come inside.”

“For what?” you said. “Seiko’s not here.”

“True, but I feel bad that you walked for nothing, so it’s the least I can do,” he said.

“It wasn’t for nothing. It was to pay you back, which I will do, and after that I’ll go home,” you said.

“Doubt it,” he said. “Come on, it’s going to rain soon. If you get sick and blame me for it, my sister will kill me.”

Reluctantly, you followed him into the kitchen, hyper aware that you both were alone. It had never been like this before; always, someone else had been in the house, whether his mother or father or one of his sisters. You shouldn’t have cared that it was just the two of you, but you found that you did. It was as uncomfortable and strange as the turbulent skies and muggy atmosphere, but also pleasant in a way, like the sweet smell of yeast in a bakery or flower petals dusting against the crackled tops of sugar cookies in a windowsill.

“Do you like Super Smash Bros.?” he said, taking the towel and rubbing his head vigorously, giving him the frazzled appearance of a hedgehog, or perhaps an electrocuted cat of the cartoonish variety.

“It’s fun, but I’m not that good. Seiko usually beats me,” you said.

“We can play, if you want,” he said.

“Okay?” you said. “Why?”

“I’m just trying to think of things that we can do, since you’re here and all,” he said.

“What were you planning on doing if I didn’t come?” you said.

“I was going to go on a date,” he said.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you actually had plans! I should leave so you can get to that,” you said. He waved you off dismissively, already turning the console on and connecting the controllers.

“It’s fine, I already canceled on her. Hopefully she gets the hint. If I have to spell it out to her that I’m not interested anymore, it’ll be annoying,” he said.

The TV flashed with the starting screen, the music blaring as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, remotes in hand. Outside, thunder rumbled ominously, and you thought that you should probably send your location to your parents so that they didn’t get worried. While Eita messed with the settings, you did that, receiving affirmative responses from both of them in turn — which made sense, as neither of them knew that Mr. and Mrs. Otoya, along with Seiko, weren’t home.

“Do you care what map we use?” he said.

“Seiko and I usually just go random,” you said. “So whatever you want is fine.”

“Random is the best,” he said. “Especially when you get the interactive maps that actively try to kill you. It’s way more exciting that way.”

“Exactly,” you said. Half of yours and Seiko’s matches were decided based on who could adjust to the map faster; sadly for you, this was frequently your best friend, and only very rarely you.

“What character do you play? I know Seiko likes Palutena, so probably not her, right?” he said.

“I only ever play as girl characters, but my favorite is Zero Suit Samus,” you said, clicking on her and changing her outfit so that it was the burgundy version.

“You only play as girl characters? Why?” he said.

“It’s the best way to bond with your avatar. If you can’t connect with your character, then how can you hope to win?” you said.

“Are you for real?” he said. You maintained a straight face for as long as you could before breaking into laughter.

“Obviously not. I just like playing as characters I think are pretty, since I don’t have much of a chance at winning either way,” you said.

“That makes sense,” he said. “I play as Sheik. He’s based off of a ninja, so it makes sense.”

It was your turn to give him a strange look. “What?”

“Because we’re descended from ninjas and all, so I have to stick with the theme. It’s like the Otoya brand,” he explained.

“I got that part,” you said. “What do you mean by he, though? Sheik is a girl.”

He paused right before clicking on Sheik, his eyes wide. “No way. He’s obviously a guy.”

“Not so,” you said. “I looked up a list of all female characters in Smash when I was trying to pick a main, and Sheik was on it. She’s Princess Zelda’s alter-ego, apparently.”

“Are you messing with me again?” he said.

“No, not this time,” you said. He mulled this over before shrugging and clicking on the character’s icon anyways.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m used to her, so there’s no point in changing. Besides, it doesn’t really matter if she’s a girl.”

“Very true,” you said. “Alright, I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Be prepared,” he warned you as he pressed the start button and the screen switched to a countdown. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you said. “Considering how frequently I’m pummeled by your sister, I’m used to losing.”

“Good. Get used to it more,” he said, immediately starting off before you could even orient yourself on the map. “Bang! Gotcha! You really are bad at this.”

“Just as an aside, the TV makes sound effects, so you don’t need to add more of your own,” you said, wrinkling your nose and dodging out of his next attack.

“It makes it more fun,” he said. “You should try it. Really helps you get in the zone.”

“Hm,” you said. “I’ll leave it to you.”

Somehow, you and Eita were actually evenly matched, and during the final round, you knocked his character off of the edge, guarding it until he couldn’t hope to recover and fell to his defeat.

“Yay!” you said as the victory screen showed your character posing. “I haven’t won in ages! This is awesome.”

“Rematch! You only won because you’re one of those dirty edge guarders!” he said, already setting up the next game.

“‘Dirty edge guarders?’ That’s how the game is played,” you said.

“Nuh-uh, it’s against the rules,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

“No? There aren’t really rules in Smash. How do you not know this? Also, you should really stop saying things when you don’t even know if they’re true,” you said.

“My older sister would always tell me it was against the rules when we used to play,” he said. You waited for it to dawn on him; when it did, he groaned and facepalmed. “She was full of shit?”

“I’m afraid you were, in fact, duped,” you said.

“No wonder she always beat me,” he grumbled. “Whenever I was close to winning, she’d say whatever I was doing was against the rules.”

“That would do it,” you said. “I don’t mind playing again, though.”

“This time I’ll beat you for sure,” he said. “Now that I don’t have to abide by any bullshit guidelines.”

The two of you got wrapped up in a series of matches, eventually turning on the random character selector as well as the random map selector, refusing to read the tutorials so you were really going into things blind and figuring it out as you went. You had way more fun than you had expected you would, and as the evening went on, any thoughts of feeling self-conscious vanished from your mind. It was just Eita Otoya, after all. He was only your best friend’s older brother, the one who brought you treats and played soccer and sucked at Smash and had a childish sense of humor. There was no reason to feel shy. Well, besides the fact that he had never opted to put a shirt on, but that was a non-issue when your attention was focused solely on the screen.

You weren’t sure how many rounds you had gotten through when his phone rang, so shrilly and insistently that he was forced to pause the game and take the call. He didn’t leave his spot on the couch, though, which meant you were able to observe him as the girl on the other end began to scream.

“How could you cancel on me at the last minute?” she said, loud enough that you could hear her, though his phone wasn’t on speakerphone.

“It wasn’t that hard,” he said. “I just texted you and said I’m not going.”

“You’re such a piece of shit. I thought — I thought everyone was wrong about you, but they weren’t. They weren’t at all,” she said, her voice cracking.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that they were,” he said. “Listen, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now, so could you hurry up and say what you want to say?”

“Did you ever even like me?” she said.

“Yeah, at first,” he said.

“Not anymore, though,” she said.

“Guess not,” he said. “Sorry.”

“Is that it? You’re ending things just like that? Didn’t it mean anything to you? I bragged to all of my friends about you! You were so sweet, and you even got me cookies…was it all just a game?” she said.

“It wasn’t a game,” he said. “As I said, I liked you back then. I wouldn’t have done all of that if I didn’t.”

“Because that’s supposed to make me feel all better,” she said.

“I’m just explaining myself,” he said.

“You’re the worst. You’re — just, you’re the worst, ugh!” she said before hanging up. Eita made a face at the phone and then put it facedown on the table beside him, unpausing the game without a wasted moment.

“They were from the grocery store,” he said after a bit.

“What?” you said.

“The cookies I got her. Grocery store variety,” he said.

“Oh. That’s kinda shitty,” you said.

“She seemed pretty happy about them regardless,” he said. “I wasn’t about to waste my money when I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“You wasted your money on me,” you pointed out. The corners of his mouth quirked up.

“You’re Seiko’s best friend. I’m pretty sure you’re not going anywhere, so it’s not a big deal. Consider it a peace offering for not believing you were real at first,” he said, landing a combo attack on your character.

“That was ages ago,” you said.

“It’s downright traumatizing for a person when others don’t think they’re real. Fucks up their psyche and whatnot. Acknowledging my mistake was the least I could do,” he said.

“Another fact you just made up?” you said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Was it plausible?”

“Not in the slightest,” you said.

“I tried,” he said. “Woah, nice one, Y/N.”

You had just hit his character in a series of successive blows, entirely by accident but to devastating effect. He lost his first life, respawning in and jumping back to the offensive.

“Why do you even do it?” you said, finally vocalizing the question that had been bothering you for almost the entire time that you had known him.

“Do what?” he said.

“Date people, when you know you’re going to break up with them so quickly,” you said. “What’s the point?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, the glare of the screen reflecting in his fern-colored irises. “It’s always fun at first. I meet a pretty girl, and I talk her into giving me her number. We go on a date or two, and I think it might actually be different this time, but it never is. By the third or fourth date, I’m bored beyond belief and dreading going on another. Then we break up and I do it all again.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you said.

“Near the end, it is,” he said. “But it’s pretty amusing in the beginning, so I don’t see a reason to stop.”

“Do you cheat on your girlfriends?” you said. You knew for sure what he would say, but still, you wanted to hear it from him.

“What is this, interview-Eita-day? Yeah, I have in the past, but only a couple of times,” he said. “Both of them were when the relationships were on their last legs and I couldn’t be bothered to care anymore.”

“That’s callous,” you said. “You should’ve just broken up with them.”

“Dumping girls is the worst. They get all upset and start crying, and I know I should feel bad because I’m the reason, but by that point, I just want to go home,” he said. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“A little bit,” you said. “For the most part, though, I just don’t understand. Why do you keep going for people you know you’re going to get tired of?”

“It’s not like I can look in the future and see that I’m going to end up bored,” he said. “It just happens. We run out of things to talk about and sit there in silence. It sucks. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“How does that even happen?” you said. “You talk all the time with me. I didn’t think you were capable of running out of things to say.”

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m not worried about impressing you — no offense — and you’re funny, plus you like some of the same things as me, so it’s easy to have a conversation with you. It’s not the case when you’re going out with someone. You’ll understand when you decide to date yourself.”

“Don’t the girls you go out with like the same things as you?” you said.

“Not really,” he said. “They think video games are for losers, and they’re too scared to go on the rides at amusement parks. Some of them understand soccer, but not to the point that it’s something they’d want to talk about frequently.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” you said. “You’re only going out with people who you have zero shared interests with. It’s normal that you’d get bored of them, and that they’d get bored in return.”

“You’re thinking too much about it,” he said. “It’s not that deep.”

“That’s how it works,” you said. “Quite fundamentally, actually. It’s impossible to build a relationship with someone when you both have nothing in common. In fact, it’s unfair to all involved parties.”

“Are you trying to give me advice?” he said.

“Depends. Will you take it seriously if I do?” you said.

“Not sure. It’s kind of ridiculous for me to be listening to my little sister’s friend about this kind of thing,” he said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you said.

“True,” he said. “Go ahead, then.”

“What do you even look for when you’re thinking of dating a girl?” you said.

“How hot she is,” he said. You waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

“That’s it?” you said.

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Why?” you said.

“Why not? Isn’t physical attraction important?” he said.

“To a certain extent, yes, but after a while, less and less so,” you said. “Haven’t you ever watched any romance movies? ‘It’s what’s on the inside that counts.’ Physical attraction alone isn’t enough in the long term.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “So what do you suggest?”

“Are there any girls you genuinely enjoy spending time with? Not romantically, just because you like talking to them, even if they’re not the prettiest or whatever,” you said.

“I don’t really spend time with girls unless I’m trying to date them. It never works out. They always end up liking me, and besides, it makes my girlfriends mad if I’m friends with other girls,” he said.

“You seriously have zero female friends,” you deadpanned.

“And just how many male friends do you have?” he shot back.

“None,” you said. “Okay, fair enough.”

“Wait, no, I guess we’re friends,” he said. “Yeah, you’re cool, Y/N. I mean, you’re pretty as well, but I don’t really think about that part much because you’re friends with Seiko.”

“Thanks,” you said. “You’re cool, too.”

“Now what? You’re a girl, and I like talking to you. Where do I go from there?” he said.

“I was going to say you should try dating one of those girls instead, but obviously that’s not applicable here,” you said.

“Ah,” he said. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m all that unique,” you said, taking advantage of his distraction to win another match. “It won’t be that hard for you to find someone else that you like hanging out with, and then you can just date them. Hopefully, you won’t get bored with a relationship like that.”

Eita didn’t respond. You doubted he knew how to and you were glad for his silence, because you yourself felt embarrassed that you had tried so hard to help him. Since when had you been the kind of girl who wanted so badly to give people guidance? He had his problems, no one could deny that, but why did you care about them? Why did it matter to you if he was happy, or if he grew out of whatever phase he was currently in?

Maybe it was because you knew he could be better. The caricature of him that you heard about, from Seiko and from the rumors around your high school, contrasted so harshly with the Eita Otoya you knew. People loved him because they wanted to be him, to have that effortless and selfish attitude towards life, but you didn’t think that very many of them took the time to understand him.

You doubted anyone at school knew that he was horrible at Super Smash Bros., or that he was entirely gullible and liked to make other people laugh. How many of them would find him admirable if they knew of his addiction to churros and diet sodas? He wasn’t cool or charming or suave the way he pretended to be. At the end of the day, he was nothing but a dumb boy blessed with a handsome enough mien that had fallen into a crowd which demanded more of him than he honestly should’ve had to give.

Putting this protectiveness down as a symptom of your friendship with Seiko — of course you cared for her older brother, he was a part of her family and you cared about her, it only made sense — you noticed that there was a lull in the storm. Bidding Eita farewell and shoving the money into his phone case when he was preoccupied with turning the game off, you ran home before it could begin to rain again, blaming your queasiness on the fact that you had not yet eaten dinner and nothing more.

“Eita’s been talking about you a lot,” Seiko said to you at lunch one day, a couple of weeks after the evening you had spent with her brother. Both you and he had mutually agreed not to bring it up, and Seiko was none the wiser, or at least so you had thought.

“What do you mean?” you said. She took a sip out of her juice box.

“Nothing bad. He just asks me how you’re doing and stuff,” she said.

“That’s not that weird. Why’d you bring it up?” you said. For a moment, you had thought she meant that he was asking about you for a different reason, but this just sounded like a typical and general concern.

“It’s a little weird. He doesn’t typically care about how other people are doing. The other day, he asked me when you’re coming over again, since according to him it’s ‘been a while.’ Like he’s keeping track or something!” she said.

“He’s not wrong. It has been a bit,” you said.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Season’s almost over, and then I’m all yours.”

“You don’t have off-season workouts?” you said.

“Fuck off-season workouts,” she said. “I’ll skip on the days we plan to hang out. My coach won’t say anything. I’m the star of the team, so he has to live with it.”

“You’re the best,” you said.

“And you’re trying to change the subject!” she said. “Are the two of you buddy-buddy now or something?”

“Or something,” you said. “We’ve just spoken a few times while I was waiting for you to come back home from practices.”

She narrowed her eyes at you before nodding slowly. “Look, just so you know, I don’t mind if you’re friends with him or anything.”

“That’s good. I’ll keep it in mind,” you said.

“He’s my brother, after all. I like knowing that my best friend is getting along with my family,” she continued.

“I get along with your family so well that I’m surprised they haven’t started calling me Y/N Otoya yet,” you said.

“But I want you to be aware of what kind of person he is,” she said with a note of finality. “He might do something that hurts your feelings.”

“You’ve told me. Many times, actually,” you said.

“And I don’t want you to stop being friends with me if he does,” she said. “Okay?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you said. “You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

“You promise?” she said, in a rare show of vulnerability.

“Promise,” you said. She punched you in the arm, returning back to being the Seiko you knew.

“Good. Then do what you want with him,” she said.

“What?” you said.

“Just saying! You deserve better, obviously, but I won’t turn down a chance to have you as my sister-in-law,” she said. “Besides, he knows that if he messes with you, I’ll take your side, so that might be an incentive for him to stay on the straight and narrow.”

“Seiko! It’s not like that!” you said. “I don’t have feelings for him. He’s your brother.”

“Whatever you say,” she said in a sing-song voice, taking another sip of her juice box, obviously done with the discussion.

She knew you better than you knew yourself. That was what happened when a person was best friends with another for years upon years, and that was why she understood even before you did what it was that was brewing between you and her brother, what had been brewing since long before that evening where you had finally noticed a palpable shift in your dynamic.

Exam season began shortly afterwards, so you didn’t have the time to go to the Otoyas’ when you were so wrapped up in studying. Then, once exams were finished, Seiko was finally freed from her grueling practice schedule, leaving her to be, as she had said earlier, all yours. This meant that even when you did go to their house, you were solely there to be with her, and so you saw little of Eita, barely speaking to him beyond exchanging pleasantries.

Sometimes you wondered how he was doing. Had he found a girl he actually liked and ended up dating her? How was that relationship going, if so? Or was he still continuing as he had been, chasing whoever he found the most attractive and then running away from them when things inevitably didn’t work out? You hoped that that wasn’t the case, though you didn’t find the former option all that appealing, either. You should’ve, because it would’ve meant that he had taken your words to heart, but you didn’t. The thought of him dating anyone was wrong and weird and you didn’t like it, but because you weren’t quite sure why that was, you decided to avoid both the feeling and its cause alike.

Halfway through summer break, on a day when your parents were on a business trip and Seiko was visiting one of her cousins in the city, Eita Otoya showed up on your front porch, knocking on the door furiously until you opened it. He was just about the last person you had expected to be standing there, red in the face and panting for breath, wearing a sweat-soaked jersey, hair sticking to his forehead and a white box in his hands.

“You look horrible,” you said.

“I ran all of the way here,” he said. “After my soccer game.”

“What for?” you said.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said.

“I was just at your house the other day,” you said. “Jeez, you look like you’re about to pass out. Let me get you some water. You really could’ve walked, you know…”

He had never been to your house, so he trailed after you dutifully, sitting at the dining table and gulping down the glass of water you offered him within seconds. Taking it back, you refilled it and gave it to him again.

“You were there for Seiko, not me,” he said.

“She’s my best friend,” you said. “Obviously I was there for her.”

“And what am I?” he said.

“Not that,” you said.

“I should be upset, but for some reason, I’m kind of glad that you said that,” he said. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Rude much?” you said, his words stinging. “Is that all you came here to tell me? If you don’t want to be friends, that’s fine, but was there really a need for you to come to my house and announce it? How’d you even get my address?”

“Seiko told me,” he said.

“In hindsight, I should’ve seen that coming,” you said.

“I haven’t dated anyone,” he said, all in a rush, the sentences tumbling out of his mouth like he was not sure if he’d ever get the chance to say them again. “Not since that night that we played video games together.”

“Seriously? If I ask Seiko, will she confirm that?” you said.

“Of course! I’m a lot of things, I know that, but I’m not a liar. I’ve never tried to hide who I am, especially not from you,” he said.

“Well,” you said. “That’s good, then. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve tried finding the kind of person you described,” he said. “Someone like you. You said it would be easy, but it’s not. It’s really fucking difficult.”

“Maybe you should look harder, then,” you said, rolling your eyes and placing his empty cup in the dishwasher before you forgot about it. “There’s no way I’m the only girl in the entire city that you can bring yourself to genuinely like.”

“You’re the only one I want to like,” he said. You froze in the middle of putting dish detergent in the dispenser, giving him an incredulous look.

“I’m what?” you said.

“I get that you probably don’t feel the same way. To be honest, I didn’t even realize that I did until Seiko yelled at me about it, because it’s not like it usually is. I want to spend time with you, as much as possible, even if we’re not doing anything but eating snacks or playing games. I want to listen to you talk, even if it’s about something that I think is boring. I want to buy things that’ll make you happy — the nice versions, not the kinds from the grocery store, because I don’t want to imagine that it won’t last. I want it to last,” he said.

You stared at him, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. Of all the things he could’ve said, that was the most unlikely. What was it about you that made you so different, that the ever-fickle and brutally honest Eita Otoya was driven to such a confession? You knew he wasn’t making it up, because he was right — he never did. Not once had he ever tried to mislead a girl about who he was, and you sensed that this was much the same. The problem wasn’t that you didn’t believe him. It was that you simply couldn’t understand.

“I don’t get it,” you said.

“What do you mean? What else am I supposed to say?” he said. “I like you. I think I have for a while now. At first, I thought it was just because you were my sister’s friend, but according to her, you normally don’t feel this way for the friends of your siblings.”

“You’ve been talking to Seiko about me?” you said. Suddenly, the side comments she had been making recently made a lot more sense.

“Who else would I go to? It was humiliating, asking her for help, but you guys have known each other for forever, so I figured it was the best option,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said, starting the dishwasher and pushing it shut. “Wow. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“If you’re going to reject me, don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you all of that because I was expecting you to say yes. I just wanted you to know that — that I did take what you said into consideration,” he said.

“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It must’ve been weird, following the advice of your younger sister’s best friend.”

“You’re more than that,” he said. “You’re more than just Seiko’s friend to me. You’ve been more than that for a long time now.”

“Why me?” you said. “Why is it me, and not one of the hundreds of other girls that would jump at the chance to fix you, to be the one who finally got Eita Otoya to settle down for good?”

“It’s that bratty little sister of mine’s fault,” he said. “Because of her, you kept showing up, and by the time I noticed, it was way too late. At that point, I was already asking her what your favorite desserts were, just so I could get them for you.”

“I see,” you said.

“Besides, being with someone who wants to fix another person sounds awful. Do you want to fix me?” he said.

“If you expect me to, then you should probably just leave,” you said. “I don’t mind helping when I can, but the only person that can fix you is you.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You mentioned once that cheaters can grow somewhere far away from you.”

“Hm? Oh, I did say something along those lines, didn’t I? That was over a year ago, though,” you said, thinking back to that random conversation, unsure of why he even remembered it.

“I’ve done it,” he said. “It was hard, but I’ve done it anyways. For you, but also for myself. I’m not so sure that the highs are worth the lows anymore, and besides, I hate doing things I don’t like, and dating around is becoming one of those things.”

“Is that so?” you said. “I’m glad you realized that.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too. Uh, I should probably go now, so…here. For last time. You shouldn’t have paid me back. Don’t even think about pulling something like that again.”

He opened the box, revealing an assortment of cookies, all the different kinds you liked. You didn’t need to ask him to know where he had gotten them from, and you admired them as he stood and pushed in his chair.

“Thanks for hearing me out, Y/N,” he said. “And don’t worry, I won’t make things uncomfortable, so feel free to visit Seiko whenever. I’ll stay out of your way when you come over. She doesn’t have any other friends, so don’t ditch her just because of me.”

“You’re pretty self-important, aren’t you?” you teased. “Did you think I’d give her up just because of you? Not likely. Anyways, why would things be uncomfortable?”

“Usually it’s pretty unpleasant to have to be around someone when you know they have unreciprocated feelings for you,” he said.

“I don’t think they’re unreciprocated,” you said. He quite literally paused in his tracks, foot still raised in the air as he spun to face you.

“What? You should’ve said so earlier!” he said. “Do you mean I was acting all angsty and emotional for nothing?”

“I wanted to make you suffer a bit,” you said. “I mean this gently, but you deserve it.”

He hung his head. “You’re not wrong.”

“I’ve liked you for a while as well, though like you said, I hardly understood it myself, and I didn’t have the benefit of Seiko drumming it into my mind — mostly because that’s not the kind of conversation you really want to have with your best friend about her brother,” you said. “I also knew about your reputation, and no matter how wonderful I found you, I was a little wary, so I never gave it much thought.”

“But now?” he said.

“I mean, it’s kind of hard to reject a guy who runs to your house with cookies and a dramatic speech about how much he likes you,” you said.

“When you put it like that, I sound like a loser,” he said.

“I want you to consider that you play Super Smash Bros. in your free time, and that you are obsessed with anything ninja or Naruto related, and then I would like for you to repeat that statement with the same indignation you just said it with,” you said. He huffed in defeat.

“That’s fair enough,” he said.

“Like I said, I do like you, but I’m not in the business of fixing people. The second you start getting bored or wanting to cheat on me, break up with me, and be an adult about it. Don’t run away. Just be honest, and for my part, I’ll hold back my tears until you’ve left, alright? If you can swear you’ll do that, then I don’t mind trying,” you said.

“You’re way too nice to me,” he said.

“I can add in more demands, if you’d like,” you said.

“Now, I didn’t say you had to do that,” he said. You chuckled.

“I thought you were really serious about me, though?” you said. “Since you mentioned it, I do have one more condition. Say yes, and I’ll be your girlfriend. Say no, and…you better get back to searching.”

“What is it?” he said eagerly, grabbing your hands and holding them in between his own. “I’ll do anything.”

“You have to be the one to tell Seiko,” you said. He paled.

“You wouldn’t,” he said.

“Just did,” you said. He scrunched up his face in thought, obviously imagining his sister’s reaction. Though she had given both of you her blessings in her own way, there was no doubt in your mind that she’d give the two of you a hard time — especially him, considering the fact that she already did that without even having a reason to.

“I’ll do it, but you have to come along,” he bargained. “Someone has to nurse me back to health once she’s through with me. It might as well be you.”

“You’re in no place to be asking for things,” you said.

“Please?” he said. “She’s scary as hell, and I’m saying this as someone who regularly plays against guys big enough to become pro wrestlers.”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “I’ll come with you, and I’ll put bandages on all your bruises.”

He grinned at you. “Deal.”

“Deal,” you said.

“Then I guess you’re my girlfriend now,” he said.

“I guess I am,” you said.

“Nice,” he said. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

You snorted. “Why not?”

So you sat down on the sofa — next to each other this time, not on opposite sides, your head leaning on his shoulder and his thigh pressed against your own — and you did just that.

“So let me get this straight,” Seiko said. Eita, who had just delivered the news, was attempting to hide behind you, which was a largely ineffective method of disguise. “You two are officially dating.”

“Pretty much,” you said, when it became obvious that Eita was too petrified to respond. It was funny — he talked such a big game when it was just words, and he was the first to make fun of Seiko, but as soon as the prospect of a fight came up, he cowered away, as any smart man would.

“Interesting,” she said. “Eita, come here. I just want to say something.”

He shuffled out towards Seiko, head bowed and hands clasped together. “Yes?”

“If you ever hurt even a cell in the bodies of the mites that live on her eyelashes—”

“What the fuck?” you said. “That’s disgusting. Thanks, Seiko, now I’m going to be scrubbing my eyelashes for the next week.”

“Don’t worry about it, everyone has them. They’re normal,” Seiko said. “Like I was saying, Eita, if you mess with her, I’ll kill you. Forget about sibling loyalty; it all goes out the door on that day, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said.

“Good,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. He looked around like he was searching for a camera, obviously in disbelief that she had let him off so easily.

“Is that it?” he said.

“For now,” she said. “Ask me again in a few months and the answer might change.”

“I’ll take it,” he said. “Well, see you later. Let’s go upstairs, Y/N.”

“What? Y/N and I have plans to bake together tonight!” Seiko said.

“No way, we’re watching TV together! I’m going to make her watch all of Naruto!” he argued. In unison, they both turned to you, waiting for your response, waves of hostility rolling off of them.

“Oh, boy,” you said, already feeling a headache coming on. “This is going to be a lot more annoying than I anticipated.”

#otoya x reader #otoya x y/n #otoya x you #otoya eita #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #best friend’s brother au #best friend’s brother fic #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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issi-loves-dannyric · 2 months ago

Text

You Belong With Me- Ollie Bearman

a/n: I'm a year older than Ollie so that's why I wrote it. One day this will be taken down as will all my other writings but at least not for a while. (personal choice cause yk work and everything) -Im tagging this as F1 since he's signed to Haas.

Summary: best friends to lovers, Ollie is too dumb to realize he's in love

angst ish with fluff

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

“She’s coming to a race” excitedly says to me while we walk in the paddock.

“That's great!” I say faking enthusiasm, if he weren’t distracted by the girl he’s talking to he would’ve caught that I wasn’t happy.

“I think I’m going to ask her out on a real date” he adds making my heart hurt a little more.

“Yeah, that’s great. Hey, I’m going to go see some friends.” I say turning towards where Paul was standing on his phone.

“Yeah-“ he says but is cut off by another message. Rolling my eyes I make my way towards the blonde. Feeling my presence coming up to him he looks up from his phone smiling.

“Don’t see much of you without Ollie” he says smirking and opens his arms for a hug which I accept immediately.

“Yeah he wouldn’t shut up about the girl he’s talking to so figured might as well see some friends”

“Oh yeah, he talks about her all the time. I’ve met her before and she’s kinda…” he trails off

“A bitch”

“I didn’t say it but I’m not disagreeing” putting his hands up in defense.

“No yeah, she definitely is a bitch and doesn’t like me.”

“Probably cause you and Ollie have a history”

“He’s my best friend, of course, there’s history”

“Yeah…” before he could add anything Kimi and Dino were joining us making Paul drop the topic.

2 months later

I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night-

“Ollie, what are you doing” I call out my window looking down at the boy who had spammed me to open my window.

“I’ve barely heard from you for the past 2 months” he replies looking hurt.

“Yeah…sorry” the last part being quiet.

“Are we going to talk like this or are you going to let me in?” He asks, sighing I push myself away going down to let him in quietly as possible.

“Ollie it’s midnight” I whisper as we go towards my room door, allowing him to walk in before me to shut it.

“I know but since when did it matter?” He replies lowly with a small tentative smile.

“Since it’s been months from the last time you came over late or even had a full conversation,” I reply turning away, sitting on my bed.

“Yeah” I could just barely hear, “just…I don’t know” he sighed staring at his feet. Looking at his face he’s trying to figure out what to say or do.

“Something’s wrong” I state, patting the bed, “come here” making him look up at me.

“I think she’s cheating on me, she’s just so different from me” he sighs referring to his girlfriend who has hated me for a while now.

“Do you have proof?” I ask, although we don’t get along, she doesn’t deserve to be accused of something she didn’t do.

“Kind of, I guess. Just she’s messaging her ex still, I think she went out with him today. Well, I know she did because of the photos.”

“Damn Ollie, that sucks,” I say looking down at my hands in my lap. “Are you going to do something about it?” I question

“I’m going to confront her and see where it goes.”

“Smart move” I replied looking up at him who was still avoiding eye contact. “Is there more?” Watching him fidget with the sleeves of his hoodie.

“I’m sorry for not being around” he quietly voice breaking a little.

“It's fine, you were busy with your new life.” I reply not meaning to be petty but he did ghost me, his “best friend”. He finally looked up at me with glossy eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m proud of you no matter what” smiling softly at him even with my own eyes feeling pricks of tears. Reaching out to his face I wipe his tears away with the hoodie holding his cheeks. Putting his hand on mine, keeping me from letting go of him, “I don’t want to lose you, I feel like I already did” sobbed holding my hand even tighter. Moving my hand to him, leaning on the pillow behind me.

I’m the one that makes you laugh when you know you’re 'bout to cry.

“I’m not leaving, at least not all the way” feeling him hold onto me even tighter, “I’ll always support you, Ollie. You can always text or call me if you need to.” I tell him while running my fingers through his hair, feeling my tears sliding down my face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Bearman,” I say trying to lighten the mood, earning a small chuckle from him. Pulling out of my hold, wiping his tears, “I should probably go before my parents realize I'm not there” He says getting up towards the door.

“Yeah, I’ll lock the door behind you so mine don’t think I just left the house open for robbers,” I say with a small smile.

“I mean it, you can text or call me anytime, you know I will try my best to answer.” I remind him at the door.

“I‘ll remember,” he says pulling me into one last tight hug.

All this time how could you not know

Looking down at my phone I just got a notification,

Ollie: I was right, she just admitted it and didn’t think she was wrong since I travel.

Sighing I respond

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ollie. At least you found out now.’

Going back to whatever movie was playing on the living room TV. My parents are off on a date meaning I get to have the house to myself, although it’s not as fun as it seems when you’re alone. My phone's insistent vibration distracts me, realizing that a call vibration I pick it up not glancing at the caller.

“Hello”

“Hey…” Ollie’s voice comes through barely, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore really. I just miss you so much and this situation made me realize something.” He quickly lets out.

“Ollie I never said I didn’t want to be in your life at all.” I reason

“Are you home?” He says sniffling.

“Yeah, parents are out”

“I need to come over”

“Okay,” I reply quietly before hanging up.

You belong with me. Have you ever thought, just maybe you belong with me?

Ollie's knocks were loud and fast making me get out faster walking to the door. The second I open the door, he puts his hand on my cheeks.

“I want to kiss you” he mumbles leaning down slightly from the height difference. “Can I?” He breaths out

“Yeah,” I say feeling heat on my cheeks now but quickly distracted by his lips on mine. Kissing him back I put my hands on the back of his neck pulling him closer.

Letting go realizing he’s rebounding, “What was that, Ollie?” I ask genuinely confused.

“I’m sorry, I love you and it took that relationship for me to realize it.”

“Still confused”

“She said the reason she didn’t see the issue of her cheating was because I was in love with you the whole time. I thought she was crazy until I realized I compared her to you. Like the things you knew I liked or how you went out of your way to make me happy.” He paused putting one hand on my cheek again forcing me to look him in the eyes, “She’s right, I do love you more than just my best friend.” He finishes

“Ollie” I whisper shocked by what he explained to me.

“Please just give me a chance” he replied

“I can’t be your rebound, Ollie. My feelings for you are real and I don’t want to be hurt.” I warn him.

“You’re not a rebound I promise,” he says seriously.

“Okay,” I reply causing him to smile slightly.

“Okay?”

“Prove you will try, Ollie,” I tell him, he lets out a breathy laugh before pressing his lips to mine. Accepting the kiss quickly but I pull away making him confused. “As much as I would like to kiss you in my front doorway so my whole neighborhood could see. I also have a movie playing so are you coming in or what?” I tell him, smiling widely, he accepts my invitation following me to sit on the couch. Curling up into him like we used to do, this time there’s no feeling of confusion about whether he likes me or not.

You belong with me

“You know you’ve watched this hundreds of times.” He states referring to Coraline playing.

“Yeah, and I’ll watch it a hundred more times.” I smile looking up at him. Pulling my face closer he started to kiss me again, this time I didn’t stop it, or at least for a moment until realizing I could hear my parents coming in through the garage. Letting go I shift to have my head on his chest with my right arm wrapped around his stomach.

“Hey Ollie” they calmly say walking by us before going towards the stairs, “Oh hey try not to kiss in front of the whole neighborhood next time.” Before going up. Making me giggle remembering the cameras that watch the front door.

“I forgot about the cameras,” he says embarrassed.

“Yeah…me too” I added.

#formula 1 #f1 #f2 #ollie bearman #formula 2 #f2 x reader #ollie bearman x reader #f1 angst #angst #fluff

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batboyblog · 4 months ago

Note

https://x.com/magi_jay/status/1812914966560973238?s=46&t=9ilK5pqP73XDblTtTbb4Qg

This post motivated me to try something different: namely, name a good quality about the Democratic Party and its candidate.

Biden’s most admirable qualities are his general wisdom and steadfastness in the face of great challenges. While I might not always agree with EVERY choice he’s made for a number of reasons, I do think he’s shown that he’s much smarter than people give him credit for.

Furthermore, he’s very firm without being either too standoffish or trying too hard. One of the things I hated about his predecessor (I refuse to name him) was just how anxiety inducing and chaotic he was, something that sucks for me since I’m a very skittish person even if I try not to be.

Biden is steadfast and (media aside trying to make a conflict on him) has never made me feel like I’m on unstable ground. He’s like a rock in the storm:

Stand by him, and we’ll weather through the chaos.

I mean in part thats why I do my weekly lists of what Biden et al are up to, because every week, EVERY single week its something huge and transformative, for the first time in my lifetime people can write "The Case for Climate Optimism" we have a government pledged to ending hunger in this country reduce homelessness by 1/4th by next year we are doing big things in this country

a few political speeches are the pole stars of my politics, the center of what I believe in.

Harvey Milk's Hope speech "I know you cannot live on Hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living" tells me and teaches me to always be for something not just again stuff, and to always be the happy warrior, gotta give 'em hope.

Ted Kennedy's 1980 DNC speech "the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die." to always get back up and get into the ring, its not never over till you give up, the Dream Shall Never Die how ever dark it gets if you hang into it with both hands

but most importantly is Ann Richards 1988 DNC Speech, if you've never heard it, you should:

I’m a grandmother now. And I have one nearly perfect granddaughter named Lily. And when I hold that grandbaby, I feel the continuity of life that unites us, that binds generation to generation, that ties us with each other. And sometimes I spread that Baptist pallet out on the floor, and Lily and I roll a ball back and forth. And I think of all the families like mine, like the one in Lorena, Texas, like the ones that nurture children all across America. And as I look at Lily, I know that it is within families that we learn both the need to respect individual human dignity and to work together for our common good. Within our families, within our nation, it is the same. And as I sit there, I wonder if she’ll ever grasp the changes I’ve seen in my life -- if she’ll ever believe that there was a time when blacks could not drink from public water fountains, when Hispanic children were punished for speaking Spanish in the public schools, and women couldn’t vote. I think of all the political fights I’ve fought, and all the compromises I’ve had to accept as part payment. And I think of all the small victories that have added up to national triumphs and all the things that would never have happened and all the people who would’ve been left behind if we had not reasoned and fought and won those battles together. And I will tell Lily that those triumphs were Democratic Party triumphs.

It is always worth it to fight, however hard it is, however bitter it may feel in the moment to take half a loaf or a part payment, it is always always always ALWAYS! better to take a half step forward than not to move at all, because its not chess, its not a game, its people's very lives

as to what I like about Joe Biden? I could say a lot of things, he's a guy the world has knocked down a lot of times, a lot of struggles and personal tragedies that in someone else could make them hard hearted and cold, but I see a guy who always takes the time to listen

youtube

thats who is, always to see Joe on a rope line talking to people is to understand their cares are truly his, he truly and I promise you this wants what's best for people.

and just for a second remember who he's running against, who that guy is on the most basic level, saying he couldn't have raped that woman she's too ugly

so do you want a President who stops everything to tell a kid its gonna be okay, that that kids can do anything, and gives him his phone number and calls him to help, or you want the guy who tells your kids "when you're famous they let you do it, grab 'em by the pussy" up to you.

#politics #US politics #Joe Biden #American politics #2024 election

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minawritesfanfic · 2 months ago

Text

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: After lots of games it is finally time for meet Dexter in person

Part 4

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The last few days were hectic, to say the least, with Dexter’s constant crew of agents surrounding him it was hard to send him any more goodies without risking exposing my identity earlier than I intended. I wasn’t sure if they’d allow me to send him treats without thoroughly expecting anything I send so I held back. Things were also hectic due to the new developments in the Bay Harbor Butcher case but also a big lead on someone the fraud department had been trying to catch for months, meaning my team was split pretty thin throughout the building trying to help with major and minor technology errors. It was absolutely insane how many calls we got where it was usually a simple fix, I love my job but god some of my coworkers are idiots. I crossed my arms over my chest with a sigh as I walked down the hallway past the homicide department towards the elevator, I couldn’t help but peek through the glad walls, I was surprised to see that Dexter and his entourage were nowhere to be seen. Though I could see him and another guy hiding away in the back, my attention was drawn away as I heard a voice call out my name. To my surprise it was Debra, Dexter’s sister, I didn’t know her very well but we had started talking more frequently as she’s needed my help quite often as of late.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you up here in a while, how have you been?” She said with a smile tucking her hands into her pockets.

“I’ve been alright considering everything that’s going on, how are you? I heard you guys found the butcher.”

“I’m alright as well, I’m just glad we’re close to putting this guy behind bars. It fucking sucks he was one of us though, you just never know what a person is like behind closed doors yknow?” I nodded stiffly trying not to laugh at the irony.

“Yeah, yeah it’s awful. The world’s a really scary place, but uh can I ask what was the deal was with all those FBI agents and your brother?”

“Ugh don’t even get me started on that, they were his protective detail just in case the butcher came after him but he fucking called them off. I was actually headed to go give him a piece of my mind about that when I saw you.”

“Well, they did seem kind of suffocating..” She gave me a look and I raised my hands defensively, “Sorry not my place, I’ll let you talk to him then.”

“Thanks, I will but uh I was wondering if you would maybe want to grab some drinks later?”

“Oh, I’m sorry not tonight, I probably won’t be done until very late. Maybe another time, first round on me?” She frowned but nodded, she patted my shoulder before storming off to see her brother.

It was great news to hear that Dexter’s constant security detail was gone but it also meant he was off to cause trouble tonight and I was going to figure out what. For now, since I have the chance I should probably send another note, I left the department and headed back to my office. I didn’t like the fact I was going to have to print it here but it would have to do for now, I didn’t want to wait too long and lose his interest and curiosity. Once I was back in my office I had to figure out what I was going to write, the other notes came easy but this one was harder to write. The big finale of our interaction was coming, the day we were set to meet in person, I was thankful I had scheduled it for a week or so after I sent the note as having him meet me with security detail would not have been fun. Now that I knew they were officially gone I could send another note confirming that I still wanted to meet him that Friday after not sending anything for nearly two weeks straight, I printed it out in my office and placed it in the bag with the double fudge brownies I had originally brought as a treat after lunch to instead give to Dexter. This time I would deliver it myself to spice things up. As I walked towards the elevator I wondered if he would try to kill me, that’s definitely something I had to consider. I know he kills murders but I don’t know the full extent of how he operates and if I’m safe from being tied down on one of his tables, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Of course that doesn’t mean I was going to meet him unarmed, I would take my own precautions. I stepped out of the elevator and glanced around making sure he was in his office and approached. I knocked on the door and held out the bag of brownies with the note as I smiled at him.

“Special delivery for Dexter Morgan.” I handed them to him and he offered them, I couldn’t help but notice the grin that briefly appeared on his face.

“Oh thank you, any chance you’re willing to tell me who this admirer is?” He asked as he set it down on his desk and looked away not expecting much.

“Sorry no can do, but I hear it won’t be long. Make sure to clear your calendar for Friday.”

I smirked and turned to make a quick exit when I saw the infamous Lila who Debra could not shut up about, she frowned and I knew she saw my interaction with Dexter and I could only imagine what she was thinking but it couldn’t be good. Before I could do anything she said goodbye to the detective she was talking to and hurried out the room towards the elevator. I sighed knowing that there was no way that this could end well, I left the department with a glance back at Dexter. It wasn’t a surprise that our eyes met again, I just smiled and disappeared out the door.

★ ✮ ★

Dexter read the note as he savored the brownie, it was delicious as always but his mind drifted to the brief conversation with a particular someone who he’d been seeing more frequently around the office. Most would say it was a coincidence but Dexter had stopped believing in those long ago with the job he had, they had to be the secret admirer or very closely involved with them. It didn’t make sense though, how could someone so normal and friendly be like him, he simply refused to believe it. From the most recent note it appears he’ll have an answer soon enough, they reiterated their intentions to meet at the beach beside Coral Cove Marina tomorrow afternoon. It was unsettling how much they knew about him and Dexter wondered if he would have to kill them, his number one rule was to not get caught and it’s not like they were innocent. But if he was interpreting the notes correctly they were likely about as innocent as he was, it was conflicting and killing them would make him the biggest hypocrite. Harry’s code has never prepared him for a situation like this. What right would he have to kill them if they worked under a similar code of conduct as he did? If what he did was just how could he persecute you for the exact thing he would be doing to you?

Rather than fretting over the ethical conundrum of his secret admirer, Dexter had other matters that needed his attention like whether or not he would have to kill this ‘Harlow’ person, after searching up his phone number it wasn’t hard to find his full name. Dexter put Christopher Harlow into the department's database, a known alias for one Jose Garza who had committed various crimes but none of which involved murder. Dexter didn’t need to kill him as long as he didn’t know where the cabin was, so he sent a quick text inviting him there to get his ‘snow’. Dexter didn’t wait long for a response and was relieved to hear that he had no clue, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and stood up. He needed to have a quick chat with Debra but more importantly, he needed more answers from Doakes. What he said had stuck with him, was Harry truly not who he said he was?

★ ✮ ★

Of course, I followed Dexter after he left work, I knew better than anyone he didn’t ditch his security detail just to lay around at home and watch tv porn. My suspicions were confirmed when he didn’t take the usual right at the light toward his apartment, I drove far behind keeping a safe distance between us to avoid being caught. Which grew harder to do as he ventured into the more rural part of Maimi, eventually he turned down a long dirt road. I watched as he took one more turn and eventually turned off his car, as I crept slowly towards the turn I could see up ahead was a very remote cabin. Now that I know where it was I could come back later to see what exactly he was doing here, for now, I had more important things to tend to like Franklin Graney.

The thirty-eight-year-old phone technician who not only kills people but violates them alive and dead, he’d just finished checking in after his last job for the day and was about to head home. He made his way to his truck but before he could even unlock it I came up behind him and used my wire garrote to strangle him, I forced him to kneel on the ground and pushed him away from me so he couldn’t reach back to scratch me. It only took a few minutes for him to pass out, I let his body haphazardly fall onto the concrete. I left him there and pulled my car up beside his, then I dragged him into my backseat. I got into the front and sighed, I peeked back at him through my rearview mirror with a frown but resolved myself to finish the job. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to paradise.

Paradise was in the basement of an abandoned hospital, specifically an abandoned hospital with a morgue built into its basement which was equipped with everything I needed. Of course, I had to rig a few things to work the way I needed them to and clean things very deeply, it was awful in here when I first found it. Now it looked quite nice and I had even decorated it to my liking, and I had taken several measures so that any wanna-be urban explorers wouldn’t be able to get down here even if they tried. It was truly perfect. I turned on my music and got to work dismembering and draining the blood to save for later.

It was nearly midnight when I finished, cleanup was messier than usual today but I got what I needed. Unfortunately I couldn’t bring any of the meat or blood I harvested home because Debra was, unfortunately, spending the night, after we went drinking the last time she confided in me about her relationship with Lundy and apparently took that as us being friends now. I wasn’t a big fan of Debra but if I was going to pursue Dexter I figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to befriend her, so even if it was unconventional to have her over I was prepared for this. It took a lot of reading, trial, and error but I had successfully managed to rig this floor to a generator which allowed me to use the mortuary fridge. I slid out one of the chambers originally used to store bodies and set the coolers containing the meat and blood onto it, then I slid it back in and shut the door. All I had to do now was take what was left of the body and incinerate it, I chose this hospital specifically because of its incinerator. I could start and finish my disposal of the corpse in one place and didn’t have to bother traveling around to complete the job it was wonderful, I placed the remnants on a cadaver stretcher and wheeled them into the other room. I opened the incinerator door and pulled out the long tray that slides inside, I transferred everything onto it and slid it back in. Then after pressing a button and pulling the lever, the incinerator roared to life, thankfully it was advanced enough to shut off on its own. I just had to come back for the bones another day, I walked back into the main room and grabbed my bag and keys before heading out. I needed to get as much sleep as I could considering what I had planned for tomorrow.

I quietly shut my front door behind me as I slipped off my shoes, of course, Deb had just tossed hers over here haphazardly. I bent over and neatly put them to the side like mine, as I stood back up I was surprised when a light turned on behind me. Debra was sitting up on the couch still awake, I completely forgot that she was still struggling to fall asleep when she was on her own. I smiled over at her and approached.

“You really were out super late.”

“Yeah, I really needed to blow off some steam then I ended up driving around not realizing how late it had gotten.” She nodded but still looked at me a bit odd.

“I see, well I’m glad you’re back safe. I was starting to think something bad happened to you.” I gave her a spin and smiled.

“Well as you can see I’m A-okay, but I desperately need a shower and to sleep for at least a decade.” I walked past her towards my bedroom, “ Good night Deb oh and I probably won’t be at work tomorrow by the way.” I said before shutting the door behind me, I desperately needed to sleep in and prepare for my meeting with Dexter tomorrow.

I tossed my bag off to the side of my bedroom and started to undress, I grabbed my towel and got into the shower. The water was warm and poured down my back it was like a really wet and warm hug. I reveled in it as I wrapped my arms around myself, killing people wasn’t something I had ever come around to enjoying and wasn’t what I wanted to be doing with my life. I had my life fucked from the beginning by people even more fucked up than I had become, so now I kill people so that I could cannibalize them. What a twisted life I was living, everyone I knew would be mortified to learn about what I do or the kinds of things I eat. Though if things continued the way they were nobody ever would, I finished showering and stepped out. The bathroom was warm and foggy from all the steam from my shower, I wrapped my towel around me before wiping away the steam on the mirror. I stared at my reflection briefly and a bloody monster stared back at me, I turned away and quickly left the bathroom. I just needed to go to bed rather than dwelling on things I couldn’t change as it wasn’t doing me any good.

Friday morning came faster than I anticipated but I made sure to call out yesterday so I slept in until ten, though it was hard to stay asleep when I had exciting plans for today. I got dressed and practically ran out the door, thankfully Deb had already left. I got into my car, I still had some time before it was noon so I decided to check out Dexter’s cabin in the woods before meeting him at the beach. I struggled a bit to remember where I was going but the closer I got the easier it was to remember, and eventually, I made it. Thankfully it seemed Dexter wasn’t here right now, I got out of the car and my clothes flowed slightly in the breeze. I nervously approached the cabin, it was old and looked damn near run down. I opened the door and was instantly met with a foul but familiar stench, I winced but stepped inside despite it and was surprised to see Sergeant Doakes locked behind a cage.

“Thank you, god, please you have to get me out of here.” He said with a relieved sigh as he stood up.

“What-what happened to you? Why are you locked up here?” I asked mostly to myself as I approached the cage resting my hand against the bars.

“It’s that freak, Dexter Morgan, he’s the Bay Harbor Butcher and he locked me in here. You have to get me out, the keys are over there.”

I frowned and I genuinely felt bad, to be honest, I liked Doakes and respected him as an officer but I couldn’t let him expose Dexter when I still had business with him. I thought for a moment debating what I should do, I didn’t want to leave him here as realistically Doakes hadn’t done anything wrong besides getting too close to the truth. Which was probably why Dexter hadn’t killed him already. It was his problem to deal with and I really shouldn’t get involved, I turned around and bolted out of the cabin despite his cries for help. I felt sick to my stomach, just leaving him there but what was I supposed to do? I had finally found someone somewhat like me, how could I throw away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this? I quickly turned my car around and drove as fast as I could back to the main road, I decided to head to the beach even though there was still time before noon. I could hang out there and wait for Dexter to arrive but also spend some time clearing my head.

★ ✮ ★

After an enlightening but also earth-shattering conversation with Captain Matthew Dexter was lost, despite that he still arrived at the beach on time to finally find out who this secret admirer was. He stood far away from the shore in the shade with his hands in his pockets, he stared off into the distance where the ocean stretched out for miles farther than he could see but he also observed the various people littered across the beach. So when someone approached him from his left he turned to see who it was, and his suspicions were confirmed though it left him with far more questions than answers. She smiled at him but seemed apprehensive and kept a safe but reasonable distance.

“See we finally met huh? I’m sure you’re already working out how to get rid of me in your head which I wouldn’t recommend unless you want everyone at the office to know it was you. I’m just here to talk, now can we do that or are you going to take care of me like you did Roger?” Despite her body language showing how anxious from her eyes Dexter could see she wasn’t afraid.

“I have to admit I’m impressed by how bold you are, but you know me well. I won’t kill you for now just don’t give me a reason to.” He said narrowing his eyes slightly for a moment daring her to try something, “Why have you been sending me these gifts, what is it that you want from me?”

“That’s a great question, honestly at first I was just messing with you but then I grew curious once I found out you were the infamous Bay Harbor butcher. We operate in similar ways and I was a bit envious of how neatly you worked, at some point I started to look up to you and maybe even develop a crush.” She admitted turning away and walking further towards the beach, “It’s not every day you meet a serial killer especially one with morals. I figured we could be friends or something.” She said with a laugh as Dexter followed slowly behind her as they walked along the beach.

It was weird for Dexter to hear the words ‘serial killer’ fall so casually from her lips as she laughed like it was the most innocent thing in the world. Dexter’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and complex thoughts, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they asked to meet him here. But he definitely wasn’t expecting a genuine love confession, sure they had been sending him notes under the guise of a secret admirer but he assumed it was just an excuse. Not to mention he was still conflicted as you did have morals on killing like he did so it’s not like he could justifiably kill you, this entire situation was baffling. Dexter couldn’t say he wasn’t attracted to her though, despite being weary she still carried herself with a confidence and aliveness that he didn’t have. He couldn’t wrap himself around how she could when they were the same, what did she have that he didn’t?

“That was a bit forward, wasn’t it? I’m sure this is kind of a lot.” She said with an awkward laugh, Dexter wondered if she could read his mind.

“I just never imagined I would find someone like-minded, but you want to be friends? How do I know you won’t just betray me?”

“Uhh I don’t know…” She paused thinking for a moment weighing her options in her head, “I could give you the location to my kill room? Then you could give me something more concrete about, uh let’s call it our hobby, then we’ll be even. Is that good enough for you?” Dexter thought for a moment, he hesitated but he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t desperate for a connection much like this one.

“Sharing our vulnerabilities would be enough for me to consider this friendship, I keep my tools in a secret compartment in a chest in my apartment.” Dexter frowned as soon as the words came out his mouth, why did he tell her that, he could be risking his entire well-being just for some woman. But after everything going on with Rita and Lila, he needed someone more like-minded and rational.

“Oh so that’s what was in that trunk, I knew it was suspicious. Well, there’s this abandoned hospital on the outskirts of town that closed a little over a decade ago, in the basement is where I keep everything and do my work. There now we both have a safeguard in case of the other.”

“Yes, mutually assured destruction.”

“Exactly, but now for the other reason I invited you here. I do want to actually get to know you as a person Dexter, so how do you feel about treating this as an actual date?” She extended her hand out to him offering to hold hands.

Dexter mused for a moment with an unreadable expression as he stared down at her hand, “An actual date doesn’t sound bad. That’s fine with me.” He laced his fingers between her and she smiled.

“Perfect, I should probably start by introducing myself.” She told Dexter her name and he remembered Debra mentioning her once or twice, “Anyway do you know why I chose this beach?” She asked.

Dexter nodded and listened quietly as the woman went into a long speech about why she had chosen this beach besides its connections to Dexter. They walked along the shore as she did hand in hand with the sun shining down on them from high in the sky, from afar they appeared to be a normal-looking couple on a normal date. Dexter still wasn’t sure what to make of all of this, but he was at least enjoying the company as she made for a decent conversationalist. Not to mention he didn’t have to sugarcoat what he said because of a certain hobby of his because she understood, it was refreshing for him. Intoxicating even, his grip on her hand tightened slightly as he stared forward listening carefully to her words.

★ ✮ ★

We ended up walking along the shore talking for several long hours, well I did most of the talking as Dexter wasn’t exactly the chatty type which was fine. He still responded and was actively listening to what I said and occasionally when the topic broached something he was passionate about then he became chatty, but just as quickly he’d go quiet as if he was afraid to be passionate about anything. It was odd but I decided not to comment on it, as it was still the first date and I would have plenty of time to learn about him. Especially about the way he operated, and at some point our conversation drifted that way. I had seen his neatness in person, and I complimented him on how amazing it was that he never left a crime scene. He was very interested in how I disposed of my bodies though, I kept it vague and only talked about the incinerator. It was too early to talk about my cannibalism, I’m sure that’d scare him off faster than I could say, cannibal.

Eventually, the conversation strayed away from our extracurricular activities, we talked about our masks and he was curious how I hid who I really was so well, we talked about family, our normal pass times, and at some point the meaning of life. It was nice being able to let go like this, not having to hide what I do because someone wouldn’t understand. It was like I was breathing for the first time, and from the relaxed smile on Dexter’s face, I could tell he felt the same. I glanced past him and could see the sun setting over the horizon, it was a beautiful sight and the sun illuminated Dexter with a warm glow.

“This is so nice, I feel like I just let a huge weight off my chest. Not to mention the sunset is amazing, it’s so beautiful.” I said walking towards it as Dexter followed closely behind me as our hands were still linked.

“Yeah, admittedly this is kind of nice. I almost feel alive.” He said staring out at the sun with his hand on his heart.

“News flash buddy, you always were alive. You’ve been living every moment, I think you just can’t see it.” He glanced at me but didn’t respond so I changed the topic, “So does this mean I get a second date? I think this went too well to end with one.”

“Yeah, I think a second date would be quite nice.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

#minawritesfanfic #reader insert #x reader #my writing #fanfiction #fluff #dexter moser #dexter morgan x reader #dexter

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monzabee · 2 years ago

Text

eight words when i think about us – lh44 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where Coachella has both you and Lewis high on each other.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: smut!, spanking, oral (m receiving), slight choking, unprotected sex (better wear that latex if you don’t want that i’m late text), slight manhandling?, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! taking a small break from writing requests, this was VERY fun to write. i don’t listen to drake, but this song and lewis??? i had to do something with it, and the fits from coachella were just too good to ignore. i hope you guys enjoy reading this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

It all starts with a look shared between the two of you, it always has. Not at all an innocent one in its nature, no, it’s a look shared between the two of you which is filled with fire and unresolved feelings. You knew it from the first time you saw his eyes that the situation, whatever it might be, would end in your heart being broken; unfortunately, you’ve never been good at exactly practicing what you preach. You don’t know how the two of you end up dancing next to each other in your crowded group, or how he positions himself right behind you which gives him a great opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you towards him. Although the two of you are in a EDM set, all your ears can focus on is the dirty words he huskily whispers in your ear over the loud music.

“Let me take you back to the hotel,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice is hoarse because of all the yelling he’s been doing in his attempt to sing along to the songs.

“No, Lewis,” you whine, hands quickly moving to rest on his on your hips. “We said the last time we’d stop for good.”

“We did so the time before that as well,” he is quick to remind you, “and the time before that, remember that one time in Barcelona? You loved doing it against the window, darling.”

You feel your breath hitch when he presses his lips to the column of your neck, his kiss is as familiar to you as the morning sun. Your voice comes out needier than you expect, “Lewis, please.” You seem to beg him, even though you remind yourself to be stronger and keep your ground when it comes to him. “We said we’d stop,” you remind him.

“Please, baby, I’ve missed you.” His lips continue their journey across your skin which is breaking your resolve with every passing moment. “Haven’t you missed me, Y/N?”

His whisper against your ear, combined with his voice and his breath on your skin makes you shiver against his hold, making him smirk as he nudges your jaw with his nose and presses kisses against your skin there. “I did, I missed you so much.” You confess, letting one of your hands stroke his jaw. “But we can’t–”

“If you want me to stop, then just tell me to stop.” He grumbles, his kisses becoming more aggressive as he lightly begins to suck and nip at your skin. His lips turn up in a smirk when you let out a silent moan, which he can tell by the movement of your throat rather than the sound because of the loud music in the premise.

“Lewis.” You let out his name in a breath, which causes him to let out an acknowledging hum, but he doesn’t stop the ministrations of his lips. “P-please.”

His voice is filled with mockery when he teases you after sucking a particular spot on the base of your neck. “Please, what, darling?”

There is a pout on your lips as you push him off of you slowly, turning towards him with a defiant look in your eyes. “What’s the point? You’ll just end up running away again, Lewis.”

“Don’t be like this,” Lewis warns, “You know why I had to leave, so stop acting like a brat.”

The challenging look in your eyes makes him stand his ground instead of reaching for you, which is what he normally would have done. “What will you do, spank me?” You snap, rolling your eyes when he says your name in a warning tone.

“You know it wouldn’t be a sufficient enough punishment, you would enjoy it too much.” The condescending tone of his words making you roll your eyes. “Where are you going?” He calls out to you when you start walking away from him, and thus the group.

“I’m going back to the hotel.” You answer him, shooting him a pointed look over your shoulder. “Alone.”

You don’t end up going back to the hotel, alone, after all. Lewis insists that you cannot take an Uber back on your own, no matter how much you remind him that you are more than capable of doing so. He doesn’t bother arguing with you, but instead waits for your Uber with you – and consequently shocking you when he gets into the car after making sure you’re inside safely. He doesn’t say a word the entire ride, even when you ask him why he’s coming with you. Instead, he keeps a firm hand on your thigh, which is exposed because of your skirt riding up. He’s even quiet when you are in the elevator, going up to your room, and you can’t help but sneak a look at his face; all serious without any hint of playfulness.

So that’s how you end up bent over the arm of the couch in your hotel room, the way Lewis letting his hand come down on your ass every once in a while making you let out whines which get louder as he continues. “Look at you, darling, you’re such a sight for sore eyes.” He caresses your reddened skin, his hands lingering around the waistband of your thong – which he takes off promptly and lets out a loud groan at the sight which beholds him. “Fuck, Y/N, this is really doing it for you, isn’t it? You like being spanked?”

Your voice comes off muffled because of the way hide your face in the pillow you’re hugging at his words. “You know I do.”

“Such a bad girl.” Lewis tsks, delivering a few more hits to your already sore skin. “I was going to eat your pretty pussy out the way I know you like, darling, but you just had to go and say things that weren’t even true.” He lets his hand massage your skin to relieve some of the stinging feeling lingering there.

“I’m sorry,” You mumble through your whines, trying to appear as genuine as possible, but both Lewis and you know that you only acted that way because you were trying to get a rise out of him – which clearly worked.

“Oh, baby, you’re sorry?” He coos, pressing kisses to your reddened skin while he keeps on speaking. “Why would you say something like that in the first place, hm?” He nip at your skin, sucking a certain spot, until he’s satisfied enough that it will leave a mark, before speaking again. “You didn’t want to make me mad on purpose by saying no, did you?”

You pause as you contemplate what to say, your throat suddenly feeling very dry, you gulp down a snappy answer. "I-I’m–” You stammer, moaning when he bites down on your skin. “I did. I wanted you to fuck me.”

Lewis smiles at your honesty, knowing he’s got you where he wanted. His hands roam around the skin of your back, and eventually, he lets one of his hands to slide down to the junction of your thighs to press his thumb against your opening. “You like it when I’m rough with you, darling? You like being fucked, when I’m not soft with you?”

You nod your head the best you can while your face is buried against the pillow you have underneath you, but you’re reminded to speak out loud when Lewis uses his free hand to deliver another, albeit lighter, slap on your bum. “I like it when you fuck me hard.”

“Is that so?” He muses, stopping his actions to take a look at his handiwork. He lets out a hum which shows that he is satisfied with it, then he straightens up, pulling you up with him and making you wince when he makes you lean against the arm of the couch and consequently making your bare skin come in contact with the fabric. “Maybe I shouldn’t fuck you at all tonight, you’ve been very rude to me.” You shake your head, hands scrambling with anxiety to take his shirt off as you look at him with a pout on your lips. He watches you with an amused smile while also assisting you in your goal. “What are you doing?” He asks when you start pulling him towards the couch to make him sit down.

“You took something off me, it’s only fair.” You shrug, sinking down on your knees between his parted legs. “Is it okay if I suck you off? To apologise?” You busy yourself with undoing his pants, and his confirmation puts a sweet smile on your face. “Thank you.”

He watches your hurried movements, lifting his hips up to help you get his trousers and underwear off, but he stops you by gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “Slow down, darling.” He smiles when you let out a frustrated whine, your lower lip pushing out to make you pout. “We have all night.” He leans forward to get you out of your top which leaves you with your bra and your skirt on, a look from Lewis has you scrambling to take the former article off. You watch him lean back against the couch, radiating nothing but power. Instead of saying anything you nod and move to wrap your fingers around his cock, but he stops you as he catches your wrist and spits on your palm without breaking his eye contact with you.

He lets out a hiss when you finally do wrap your hand around his cock and use your thumb to spread the precum which has accumulated on his tip. You let your hand move up and down a few times before taking the tip into your mouth and lightly sucking on it. You gradually take more of him as you open your mouth to accommodate his size, using your hands where your mouth is not able to reach. A sense of pride washes over you when you feel him getting under your touch and he shows his appreciation by sliding his fingers through your hair. You hear a low groan that comes between his lips when you start bobbing your head up and down, which makes you tighten your lips around him. You don’t cut off your eye contact with him for the sole purpose of making him lose control, Lewis always makes a point of telling you how much he loves having your eyes on him at all times – it is a side effect of his job, you think, always in front of the camera, always being watched by the world. But you on your knees on him with his cock between your lips, looking him with huge eyes? It doesn’t take too long for him to take over all the control you held; he starts moving your head on his cock by the fingers he has tangled in your hair. Not that you mind, you’re more than happy to let him move you however he likes.

He eventually takes himself out of your mouth, before you make him cum, making you whine because of the loss of contact as a result, but there is a grin playing on his lips as he pulls you to his lap, his hand quick to go under your skirt. You let out a gasp when you feel his finger sliding through your slit, he only laughs at your reaction. “Did sucking my dick made you wet, darling?”

You nod your head with urgency, needing him to do something about the sweet ache you feel between your thighs. “Yes, Lewis.” You try to move your hips closer to his fingers to get some kind of friction, but left unsatisfied when he pulls them away with the tilt of one of his eyebrows.

He sucks on his finger as you watch him with parted lips, which makes him smirks as he shrugs. “You got to have a taste, it’s only fair.” He taps your thigh twice as he instructs, “Hang on to me with one of your hands, and lift your skirt with the other.”

You look at him with widened eyes, rising on your knees when you feel him pinch the skin on your ass. “You’re not going to fuck me?”

He smiles wickedly at your whining tone, lining himself with your entrance as he replies to your question in a nonchalant manner. “No, love, you’re going to fuck me.” Your breath hitches at the emphasis which only makes him smirk wider as he uses his hand on your hip to lower you onto his cock.

Your lips part in a silent scream as you feel the burn of the stretch he provides as he draws you closer to his hips. “Oh my god, Lewis.”

“Are you okay?” He asks, worried eyes meeting yours as he stills his hands.

“Yes, just- Give me a second,” you swallow down a breath, using your hand on his shoulder as leverage to push yourself down on him on your own pace. You head is thrown back and your eyes are closed once your hips come to a halt. The stretch being full to the brim after months apart is delicious, you decide.

Lewis’ hand squeezes your hip as he lets a loud groan as he bows his head. “Tell me what’s wrong, darling.”

A loud moan comes from you once you feel Lewis taking one of your hardened nipples between his lips and starts to suck, his forehead is flushed against your clavicle and you let go of your skirt to push him against in chest. “It’s just- it’s been a while,” you breath out; your hips start moving once the overwhelming feeling slowly fades away and leaves its place to pleasure.

He lets go of your nipple, “Start off slow, we have all night,” he reminds you and moves on to your other nipple, sucking and tugging against the puckered skin.

You let out a noncommittal hum, choosing to focus on the movement of your hips at the moment instead of his instructions. You gradually lift your hips higher, and let them drop harder, causing his tip to be burrowed deeper and deeper inside you. “It feels so good,” you praise him, “so deep.”

“Yeah?” Lewis asks breathlessly. “Look at me, pretty girl.” You force yourself to roll your head sideways, the tilt of your head allowing you to look into his eyes as the movement of your hips become sharper as you get used to the feeling of him within you. You realise just how much his eyes have changed over the course of few minutes when you lock gazes with him, his are a darker shade of brown and filled with lust. Both of you let out a hiss when you start rolling your hips against his and the friction on your clit sends shivers down your spine. You almost roll your head back again, but Lewis is quick as he grips your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

Your legs tighten around his on almost an instinct and you place your hands on his chest to keep holding your balance. “Lewis.” You voice comes out more as a moan, your hips getting faster as you try to chase the high. You unintentionally bit down on your lip, causing him to use his thumb to pry your lip free and slides his thumb in your mouth.

You groan around his digit as you close your lips around it and start sucking on it as you did with his cock a few moments ago. He watches you with pure fascination. “Good girl, Y/N, such a good girl for me.”

You ignore the burning feeling emanating from your inner thighs, pushing yourself to roll and move your hips up and down in a faster rhythm. You moan loudly as you feel a similar burn starting to form as your stomach coils. You incline your head to take a look at where the two of you are connected, watching him disappear between your folds, and Lewis follows your line of vision which causes him to moan as well. “So deep, Lewis, it feels so good,” you whimper, your hands automatically move to grasp the chains hanging around his bare chest when he makes you look back at him by gently grabbing you by your neck.

“Move faster,” he orders you, drawing you closer to himself as he simultaneously rises up to meet you in the middle and rests his forehead against yours.

You attempt to move even faster despite the burn in your thighs becoming more and more apparent. You nails rake down his chest as your breathing becomes erratic. “I-I can’t– Lewis!”

He causes you to scream out his name as he delivers a slap down on your ass as he announces, “You can.”

“Please,” you gasp, somehow it becomes tangled with a broken moan, “please, help me.”

“You want me to help, baby?” He asks in a strangled voice, the hand he has around your throat slightly tightening to add to all the sensations you are feeling at that moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

Although his voice is as sweet as it can be given the circumstances, he grasps both sides of your hips in a bruising grip as he lifts you off; just enough to keep his tip inside you still. You scream his name over and over again as he slams you down on his cock, and repeats the action until it leaves you as a sobbing mess. You try to keep your eyes open as tears of pleasure start falling out, not wanting to risk Lewis stopping because you’re not following his instructions. “I’m going to cum.” You manage to get out in a voice thick with pleasure.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, “I’ve got you; you can let go.” He keeps moving you on his cock before deciding to change your roles, holding you up while he fucks into you. You buck your hips down on his as best as you can, your vision blurring as your orgasm washes over you.

The moans and squeals leaving your lips only makes him move faster with conviction. While he guides you through your release, your body moulding against his as your legs start shaking, you feel his hips starting to stutter their movements. You cup his cheek as your breathy whisper hits his lips, “I want you to cum in me,” you shush him when he’s about object, “please, Lewis, just this once.” He lets out a groan mixed with a moan when he hears the desperation in your voice, his hands grip you tighter as he finally comes with a hiss leaving between his lips.

You let yourself fall against his chest, both of you heaving as you try to catch your breaths and come off your highs. Lewis’ arms wrap around your waist as he lets out a chuckle, “We’re definitely doing that again.”

The corners of your lips lift up in a grin against the side of his neck, your head nestled against his shoulder. “Does this mean I should be snappy with you more often?”

“I’ll answer that question after a bath, darling.” You see him smile from the corner of your eye. “And breakfast, possibly a round after breakfast.”

“Good,” you mumble sleepily, pressing a kiss against the column of his throat. “Stay, and please just get me out of this damn skirt.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff

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thesassypadawan · 7 months ago

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Take Charge (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: There’s this one thing you’ve been wanting to try for some time now. A thing that really peeks your interest, but makes you so freaking nervous. Because, well, how the hell does a hamster go about wrangling a damn moose?!

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. A bit of sub Hay, dom reader, oral (fem receiving), and… Hayden’s skilled tongue.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for @espinathena-17! I really enjoyed writing this, it was truly a pleasure! Hope you like it! ❤️

- It was something you’ve wanted to try for more than a hot minute now. Something that really intrigued you, but, at the same time, makes you so freaking nervous. Because you’ve never done anything like this before and, in your mind… How the hell does a hamster go about wrangling a damn moose?!

- Eventually you build up enough courage to talk to Hayden about it. And, to your great surprise, he’s totally up for the idea. In fact, he very much encourages you to ‘take charge’ every now and then…

- Wearing that sexy, little, black outfit he absolutely loves; you sit cross-legged on the edge of his desk. Eyes glued to the door, waiting not so patiently for him to…

- “Angel, are you…” Spotting you in all your lacey glory, he freezes instantly. A big grin spreading across his face. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

- Biting your lip, you wiggle a bit in anticipation. You’re finally doing this…oh, this is going to be so much fun!

- Straightening up more, you snap your fingers. “Sit,” you mutter. A hint of authority in your voice as you point to the chair in front of you.

- His eyebrows raise slightly, that grin growing wider. Clearly getting where this was going, he quickly obeys. Plopping himself down with a… “Yes, little miss.”

- “Good.” Slowly you uncross your legs, letting him catch a glistening glimpse. Before recrossing them and placing a heeled foot on his chest. Pushing lightly, asking not so innocently. “Tell me…do you want me?”

- “I do,” Hay chuckles softly. His eyes blown so wide; you can barely see the blue in them anymore.

- Tilting your head to the side, you let out a devious, little giggle. “Is that so? Then why don’t you beg me for it…let me hear how much you do.”

- Fingers graze your ankle gently, trailing upwards. Lips brush then press against your smooth skin, causing your breath to hitch. Part of you wants to give in, to just let him do his thing. But you already made it this far so…

- “Ah ah, naughty boy,” you scold. Digging you heel in firmly, pushing him back into his seat. “I told you that I want to hear you beg. Now…get to it.”

- You watch him swallow hard, adam’s apple bobbing enticingly. “P-please, please, let me kiss you. L-let me touch you; run my hands all over your beautiful b-body.”

- Satisfied with his words, in more ways than one, you ease up. Allowing him to place featherlight kisses on your calf. Teeth nipping and biting your thigh. Hot breath fanning over your sensitive area, making you shudder and stifle a moan.

- Resting his chin on one plushy pillow, he tentatively squeezes the other. “C-can I taste you?” Hayden stutters, gazing up at you hungerly. “Please, I’ve been craving y-you all day.”

- “Such a good boy,” you coo, fingers running through his hair. “I suppose I could, since you did ask so nicely. But, in return…”

- Forcing him back again, you coyly part your legs. Revealing your bare cunt, a low groan escaping him. “…you have to make me feel real good.”

- Eagerly he leans forward. Arms hooking underneath your legs. Mouth hovering. “I-I promise,” he murmurs, voice rumbling through you.

- Hay’s tongue laps at your wet folds. Wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly. Then nuzzling it teasingly with his nose, while tracing the rim of your aching core. Completely and utterly devouring you like a man starved.

- Your moans fly freely now. Nails scratching at the polished wood, hips shamelessly bucking into his face. Stomach curling pleasantly, pussy fluttering and clenching around him. “Mmmh, that’s it; right there. I-”

- Just as you’re really getting into it, he suddenly pulls away and abruptly stands. Leaving you totally hot and bothered, fighting to not whine or sound all desperate. “You’re not the one calling the shots tonight, I am. And, I didn’t say you could stop.”

- Smirking down at you, he wipes your slick off his face with the back of his hand. The tent he’s sporting on full display. “Sorry to spoil your ‘taking charge’ moment, but I can’t hold back anymore. Need you…bad.”

- As much as you’d like to be upset, it’s kind of hard to be when…you’re staring at something, well, that hard. Plus, you have to admit, you need him bad too. “Fine,” you huff. Scooting to the edge of the desk, spreading your legs wider.

- Frantically, he undoes his pants; cock standing tall and proud. Large hands grabbing and gripping your thighs. Pulling you closer, fat tip pressing at your entrance. He’s just about to take the final plunge when…

- “Hold up there a second, big guy!” You order, words and tone making him stop. “You can only have fun if…you take care of your ‘mess’ afterwards.”

- Hayden growls, grip tightening. You think he’s going to argue or protest, instead… “Yes, little miss; I’ll be sure to lick everything clean.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16

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messenger-of-babel · 1 month ago

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Conversations

Summary: You wished that Kyle could distinguish between argument and conversation.

Word Count: 1.3K

Notes: Aaaahh I’m new to Kyle Rayner as I’ve just started reading his runs but I really liked him and wanted to give him a spin. He’s probably my second fav lantern (after Hal) and I’ve got some kinks to work out with nailing his personality, but I’ll get it with a bit of practice. I was trying to keep him in line with his dreamer/romantic side ya know? Anyways, first week down already folks!

(Additional side note: posting this early tonight cause of a killer migraine so please be patient with tomorrow's upload. )

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Even if you were yelling at him, Kyle thought you were beautiful.

The sun caught your hair in the morning light, and his eyes traced the sleep still in the corner of your eyes. There were lines on your face from the pillow, and your lip was sucked between your teeth.

"Kyle? Are you listening?" you sigh softly, and he responds with a faint smile.

"You're beautiful."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling. "Great. So, you're not even listening." you sigh. His smile wavers slightly. He knew you wanted to talk about something heavier than he would like for the first thing in the morning, but he couldn't help but try to steer it away from that. After all, you had said that you didn't intend to stay the night last evening, that you came over just to talk, but you ended waking up beside him the next morning. Surely, he could talk you out of this if he swung it correctly. His lips quirk up again, making his eyes light up with a playful warmth.

"I am listening," he defends. "I just can't help if you look beautiful this early in the morning."

"I'm not in the mood for flattery, Rayner." you sigh, hands on your hips. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation right now. You're not taking anything into account, which is the exact reason we keep having this argument." You throw your hands up in the air, clearly frustrated.

He puts his hands in front of him, making a soothing motion. "Woah, woah, we haven't been having arguments, we've been having conversations," he corrects sternly. "Those are two very different things, babe. We're okay."

"You always say that," you groan. "What kind of discussion ends with the tears, Kyle? This isn't a conversation if I'm the only one talking. You keep dodging the questions, the situation, and it just gets worse!" you say frustrated, hands coming to cover your face. "I shouldn’t have even stayed the night. I knew I shouldn't have stayed the night." you groan, a well of regret and shame writing around in your stomach as your pinch at the bridge of your nose again.

"Hold on," he interjects. "It's not a mistake. We're a couple, that’s what couples do."

You sigh through the nose at that. "Yeah? If we're a couple, why have I been sleeping at my place for the last week? Why haven't we gone on any dates? Why haven't we been calling? This is more than a rough patch, which you already refuse to acknowledge. We're essentially broken up. It was a long time coming, and if you actually stopped to listen for a moment, you'd realise that too. We need to break up." you say a matter of factly, slightly out of breath from your rant.

You didn’t want to say that. Hell, if you had asked yourself from a year ago if you wanted to break up with Kyle Rayner, the answer would have been an immediate 'Hell no'. You just couldn't do it anymore, the constant speed that your relationship had been progressing. Kyle took you on dates like he wanted to be married to you yesterday, despite only recently hitting your one-year anniversary. Don't get it wrong, you weren't complaining about him being in love with you, especially after the disappointing string of partners before him. He made it seem like you held up the sun and kept the world from collapsing. Like you were some goddess that could solve anything with a simple touch.

But that was exactly the problem.

He treated you like a martyr, like someone who could do no wrong. You were sick of being the princess stuck in the tower. Want to go to Gotham for a show? No, too dangerous, didn't you hear about the crime rate recently? How about going to Metropolis to visit your old college friend? You've got to be joking with him. Do you know how many superpowered maniacs tear through those streets on a daily basis? Coast City? It was essentially the walking dead every now and then and he wasn't going to risk you being there when it happened (plus Hal Jordan). No, you were to stay right here, in Los Angeles.

That kind of care was endearing at first, until you began to feel disconnected. from everything. You weren't some damsel that needed to be protected, god damnit, you were a fully functioning adult, not a child. But no. Kyle Rayner had to be there, had to be your knight in shining armour, had to keep the walls padded. It started to feel like you were dating a parent instead of a partner in the way that you would act and lash out to try and get him to relax his reins a little. He'd always just stand there, taking blow after blow without actually listening to your words. Just throwing back compliments, dodging the conversation skillfully and downplaying the situation. It was like dating a broken record, the same dismissive positivity on loop 24/7.

You were going to snap eventually.

It was wearing you down, the constant affirmations that everything was fine when it was not. Then it had begun the months of him putting you on that pedestal. Like all things it was fine at the start, but soon you became your own worst enemy. Soon you were chasing the perfect version of yourself that only Kyle could see, burning yourself out to be that person until you turned to see the damage you'd done to yourself. When you'd ask him to stop, that you were human like everyone else and had negative emotions, there was a small upset flicker across his face. He just couldn't understand why you'd be sad or angry or frustrated after a long day of work. Don't you love your coworkers? Why are you mad at your cubicle partner? You were the most understanding person on the planet, so surely you understood where they were coming from.

You had decided that you were done with the love bombing. You could see in the way his eyes looked at you, the dreamy expression on his face even in the midst of your fights that he was in love with the idea of you, not actually you.

And you would be lying if you said that it didn't hurt.

While you're standing on the other side of the bedroom, lip worried between your teeth his thoughts are running wild. However, no matter how fast they race, there isn't a pulse of panic that can course through his body. You both had always managed to fix any bumps in your relationship, and Kyle knew you were the best thing that happened to him. He wasn't going to let go anytime soon, and he was convinced that you wouldn't either. When he sees the start of the tears on your waterline though, his heart clenches. His lips tilt into a frown and he comes around to your side to lift your face, but you gently tip your chin out of his grip.

"Babe, why are you crying?" he asks, heart sinking at just the idea of you being sad. Sure, you sometimes cried during your conversations, but he knew that was just your way of expelling energy, of getting the bad emotions out of your system. They were disrupting your perfect relationship, so you were releasing them, he knew that. You just shake your head, choking down a hiccup.

"That's it, Kyle." you whisper. "This is it. You just don't get it." You frustratedly sigh, turning away from him to get your keys and purse thrown on his dresser from last night. "I'm gone. This has to be an official break up, we can't keep doing this." you choke out, voice thick as you throw your coat on, not caring that you look ready for the walk of shame out of his apartment. He tilts his head curiously as you pass him, your throat bobbing as you swallow.

"Goodbye, Kyle Rayner." you say, before you all but sprint for the door.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. As he hears the front door slam, he exhales, disappointed. He was hoping he could take you out to that brunch place you liked near the park, and then go feed the ducks. It always seemed to make you smile, radiant and full of life. He mulled your words over in his head, a flash of panic shooting through his heart for a second. Were you actually going to leave? No, you wouldn't do that. Not to the perfect arrangement you two had. You were made for each other.

Break up?

Surely you just meant that you were taking a break.

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domripley · 1 year ago

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Reminder

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

warning: top tara, fingering, jealous tara, mommy kink, quinn has a thing for reader, reader is a bit oblivious until she’s not, face slapping, verbal humiliation, bathroom sex, halloween party, finger sucking

summary: when quinn asks you out on a date, you agree - not realizing it’s a date. tara isn’t happy, but knows she needs to remind you that you’re hers and only hers.

request: Could you write a top!Tara fic where she gets jealous seeing another girl flirting with her gf and Tara reminds who her gf belongs to?

this is a repost

“I love your costume,” Quinn smiled, causing you to look down. You laughed, shaking your head.

“This old thing? I’ve been wearing this for Halloween for four years straight. But thank you.” you said, looking around the crowded room. Tara had gone to get you both drinks, so you knew she’d be back soon.

“Would you ever want to go out to eat? I have no classes tomorrow if that works for you?” Quinn asked.

You shook your head, “Yeah! Tara’s got a few classes tomorrow, so that works out great actually.”

Quinn smiled, “Alright cool. Alright, I’m gonna go, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“You know she has a thing for you, right, (Your Name)?” Mindy asked, causing you to laugh.

“Quinn does not have a thing for me,” you stated, shaking your head.

“Yes, she does, and she practically just asked you out on a date and you said yes.” Anika said, looking behind you to see Tara, who had two drinks in her hands.

“What about a date and you saying ‘yes’, (Your Name)?” Tara asked, tilting her head to the side as she waited for your answer. She was calm and collected, just like she always was. But you knew that you really fucked up. You wouldn’t have said yes to Quinn if you thought it was a date – you loved Tara and you didn’t want to hurt her at all. Quinn was someone you thought only of as a friend, even if you were single. “I’m waiting.”

“Quinn asked if I wanted to go out to eat tomorrow and I said yes because I thought it was just us going as friends?” you said, watching as Tara’s jaw clenched. You could tell she was trying her best to stay calm. You sighed, trying to think of something to say. You felt dumb, hoping you didn’t just fuck everything up with Tara. That was the last thing you ever wanted to do. Tara meant too much to you.

Tara dropped the drinks on the floor, not caring about the mess she had just made. She was quick to grab your hand, pulling you away from your group of mutual friends. She ignored the concerned looks of Anika and Mindy, silently thanking whoever when she found that the nearest bathroom was unoccupied. Tara pushed you inside, following behind. Shutting the door behind her and locking it, she crossed her arms and glared at you.

“Are you that much of a stupid whore, baby?” she asked. You shook your head, the words in your head not wanting to come out. Tara was angry - rightfully so, but you genuinely didn’t know that Quinn was asking you out on a date.

“Baby,” you sighed, causing her to shake her head.

“Take your clothes off.” she demanded, causing you to give her an odd look. She was never like this, especially in public - that’s when it hit you - she was jealous.

“What? Tara- no-“ you began, but she cut you off. Slapping you across the face, Tara got closer to you. She pushed you up against the counter, wrapping her hand around your throat and squeezed.

“It’s Mommy,” she whispered, kissing you on the lips softly before pulling back. “Take your clothes off. Come on, be a good girl for me, baby.”

“B-But what if someone walks in?” you questioned, watching as Tara licked her lips.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve locked the door. Now do as you're told.” she pushed, causing you to nod. She made a point and a part of you liked this side of Tara. She pulled away from you, allowing you to have room to get undressed.

You pulled your shirt off, setting it on the counter gently before unclasping your bra. A part of you didn’t want to take your time, but you knew Tara hated when you rushed. Once your bra was off, she pushed you lightly so your back was facing the mirror. You leaned on the counter, watching as Tara’s hands made their way to your pants. She pulled them down roughly, bringing your underwear down with them.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” Tara pointed out, staring at your pussy. “And all mine.”

“Only yours. Promise. M’yours.” you said, biting your lips as she pushed your legs apart. Bringing her hand between your legs, she slid two fingers into. She didn’t want to waste anymore time - she needed to be inside of you.

“Is this pretty pussy all for me? To use whenever I want, or is it going to be Quinn’s? Hm?” she asked, fucking you with her fingers at a rough pace. You bit your lip, trying your best to not be too loud, although you knew no one outside of the door could hear you.

“N-No, not f-for Quinn. J-Just you,” you moaned, keeping your eyes locked on Tara. Tara stilled her fingers, adding a third finger before she continued to fuck you.

“That’s right, Princess. Your pussy belongs to me, and you belong to me.” she smiled, leaning in before taking one of your erect nipples into her mouth. She sucked on it hard, causing you to whimper.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm fast approaching. Tara pulled her mouth away from your nipple, slapping your chest with her free hand. “Did I say you could close your eyes, baby? No, I didn’t. Open your eyes or I’ll stop and we can wait until we’re back at my place… where Quinn will hear you loud and clear.”

You shook your head, snapping your eyes open. You tried your best to keep your eyes locked on Tara, but as your orgasm hit, it was a challenge to do so. Tara fucked you through your orgasm, only stopping when you tried to pull yourself away from her.

“Good girl. You were such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so good. I love you.” Tara smiled, bringing her fingers up to your mouth. “Clean your mess up for me, Princess.”

You took her first two fingers into your mouth, running your tongue between them to make sure they were clean. She pulled her fingers out of your mouth, slipping her third finger into her own mouth.

Tara hummed, closing her eyes. Pulling her finger out of her mouth as soon as it was clean, she smirked, “Let me help you get dressed, wanna get you back to my place. I’m going to remind you that you’re only mine all night.”

“I love you, Tara. If I knew it was a date, I would have never agreed.” you admitted, causing Tara to smile.

“I know baby, I trust you.”

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #my writing #mine

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akoyaxs · 1 year ago

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˚༄ Tìyora Pt 5 - Final ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 5.6k words Warnings: shit is filthy, rut, oral (m and f recieving), 69, rough sex, p in v, multiple orgasms, angst, fluff at the end because we got to finish it off nice :) ~ I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for all the support throughout this smutty slutty little story, I swear it's so unserious at times and I have a good little giggle writing it, but I couldn't do it without all my pookie pies and this one is for all of you Aonung sluts cause this man is so fine 😻 OKAY ENJOY!!! - Zenna

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“He’s a complete skxawng,” you growl, stabbing the knife you’re meant to be sharpening harshly into the sand.

“Right,” Tsireya says consolingly, though you suspect if you raise your gaze, you’ll find her rolling her eyes. The two of you are sitting on the beach, doing your various tasks, though it seems more like you're ranting and less like you're actually doing anything.

“I haven’t seen him in a week,” you scowl. “He hasn’t been at training, or anywhere around the village or the bay or even the rest of the reef. And he’s not even hiding in your marui.”

“And how would you know that?” Tsireya asks, a small smile curling her pretty lips.

“Because I checked,” you say bluntly. “Several times. Because I’m bothered that my supposed warrior commander is neglecting his duties. That is all.” Tsireya doesn’t say anything, just pursing her lips and nodding seriously, and your frown deepens. “I’m serious. What sort of leader is he going to be if he’s just sulking around and hiding from-”

“And what would he be sulking about?” your friend counters. “I haven’t seen my brother in a couple days, even after he’s been avoiding you or whatever, if you’re so bothered, why don’t you tell me what happened.”

At that, you pause.

You aren’t even entirely sure what happened. The last time you saw Aonung, which had been over a week ago, he’d caught you with Ta’ru behind the rocks. You had played a little game which ended up with you on your knees, getting the shit rocked and breath knocked flat out of you as he fucked you like he hated you (which, of course, he probably still did).

You had probably just imagined that he’d become less haughty towards you, that he’d been sweet and gentle sometimes instead of his usual taunts and condescending idiocy towards you. But apparently not, because now he’s even worse. You can tolerate fights and comments, Eywa knows you’ve battled off enough of them, but getting cut out and ignored just stings so much more.

No. You don’t care.

It’s not that deep. Why should you care that the most infuriating person you ever met is treating you with the same hatred you’re meant to feel for him.

You shouldn’t care.

But you do, for some inexplicable reason, and as always, your upset comes in the form of anger.

“Hello?” Tsireya snaps you back into reality. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about whatever weird thing is going on between you and my brother, but maybe stop trying to murder the beach?”

“What?” You look down to realise you’d been violently stabbing the sand with your knife, shells shattered at the bottom of the jagged grooves you left behind, loose sand scattered all over you from your unconscious stabbing. “Oh, sorry.” Tsireya grins, and then the rest of her words process in your mind and you straighten up to glare at her. “There’s nothing 'going on' between me and Aonung. He’d be the last per-”

“Oh really?” your friend scoffs. “Yeah, I’m not blind. I’ve never seen Aonung like this before.”

“Like what?” you scowl, but a guilty tone of your curiosity shines through your voice as you study her. But Tsireya just laughs and shakes her head, as though she can’t believe you right now. “Fine,” you snap. “Don’t tell me then. I’ll go find him myself.”

“That’s probably not a great idea,” Tsireya says, scrunching her nose up. “If Aonung doesn’t want to be bothered, everyone knows best than to try and disturb him.”

“Well he can suck it up because I don’t care if he’s some stupid silly prince or some bullshit,” you shrug. “I care that he’s ignoring me, because no one ignores me and gets away with it.”

Tsireya just grins as you stalk away, and you swear you hear her muttering smug, giggly nonsense to herself as she watches your furious, purposeful storming.

You end up in the forest behind the village. You’re not entirely sure why; maybe you’re just too worked up and you need something the least bit similar to home, or maybe you just think better when surrounded by trees instead of sand and sea. Either way, the second your feet hit soft, damp grass and the sunlight is barred by lush shady canopy, your annoyance doesn’t quite dissipate, but at least your body seems to relax in the mere presence of the forest.

You’re just wandering, enjoying the sounds of the birds and allowing the damp, cool scents to roll over you like home, albeit more tropical and sweet than rainforest. Or at least, you think it’s only the sounds of the rainforest wafting through the damp air, until you hear it. Deep, pained, laborious groans. Like someone’s hurting, aching, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

You pause. You could run back and get help, but the groans sound oddly familiar, and you find yourself instantly following them. Through the bushes and trees and shrubs, past thickets of bright flowers and sharp thorns and random animals. They’re growing louder, hungrier, the closer you draw to the source of the sound until you burst into a small clearing, a small woven marui stretched over in a shelter in the centre, blocking the groans from view.

You stalk closer, silently, though you can imagine they could never hear you over their own groans and grunts. Then you’re peeking through the gaps of the weavings and stepping into the hut.

Aonung’s slumped against one side, curled up slightly so you can’t see him properly, and he’s hidden in the shadows anyway. His face looks flushed and frustrated, and there’s a certain darkness around him that has your tail pricking up unconsciously. But when he looks up, when he sees you, his eyes darken further.

“What are you doing here?” he croaks, gritting his teeth, sounding furious.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you snap, crossing your arms in the entrance. “It’s been a week Aonung, where the fuck have you been? Cowering in this little hut doing Eywa knows what?”

Aonung just continues to stare, eyes growing darker and hungrier with every second they rove over your body, and you feel them lingering particularly on the curves and hidden places he knows only too well now.

“You need to leave.”

“What?” you ask, taken aback by the audacity of Aonung. “No.”

“Leave now,” Aonung growls, his voice deep and desperate and dangerous, and you feel a sharp jolt somewhere deep within you, as though your body is recognising something the rest of you cannot.

“What did I tell you about you and your orders?” you say stiffly, glaring at his slumped figure. “I don’t give two flying fucks who you are, you cant-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” he roars, eyes narrowing to pale slits, face contorted with desperate frustration.

“NO!” you shout back with equal ferocity, standing your ground and taking a stubborn step into the marui.

And then it hits you. The scent, the energy, the strangeness of his behaviour and his absence from the village, not just you. It should have been obvious already; the lustful darkness in those usually bright eyes, the heat with which he snarls his words, the sheer frustration surrounding him that was no doubt sharpened by days with only his own company.

“You’re in rut,” you whisper, tilting your head down at him.

Aonung doesn’t reply, just breathing heavily. For a moment you think he’s trying to compose himself to speak, but then you realise that his eyes are squeezed shut, hands gripping himself back with fierce desperation for a reason.

It’s starting to piece together in your mind, but not at all. It makes sense that he would go away from the village, hide away and try to master himself in solitude, but he had you. The thought makes you frown, that he didn’t want you near, that he clearly doesn’t want you near, and he didn’t bother asking for your help.

Aonung’s growing more frustrated the longer you stand there, and you can sense wave after wave of pure, vicious, animalistic desire radiating off him and breaking over you in a way that makes something… change.

“You need to leave,” he whispers, his voice a small plead. The change from his snarls and roars for you to leave makes you shiver, and you can already see himself slipping away, his will cracking under your presence and his last attempts to get you to leave becoming weaker as his hunger conquers him.

But you don’t. Surprising yourself, and definitely him, you step closer again, body feeling strangely shaky, even nervous. His ever-darkening eyes watch your every step, and his grip tightens so hard you see his large hands paling, anchoring himself, stopping himself from moving.

“I thought we were supposed to help each other out,” you say quietly, taking another step closer.

“Please,” he breathes, his voice nothing more than a small whine, and you exhale shakily. He’s a fucking mess, and you find yourself longing to take care of it, living off that hunger he’s trying so hard to hold back. You can see that, and that’s probably why you do it.

Your hand reaches out to lift his face towards yours, fingers trapping his chin in your gaze. He’s obviously struggling, whether to refrain from looking away or trying to hold the stare, you don’t know. And you know is the dark desperation in those eyes, and understanding passes between the two of you.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” Aonung whispers, head unconsciously leaning into your palm, looking so lost and helpless you just want to fuck it all away.

“I know.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says, chest heaving with the cracking efforts to control himself.

“I can take it,” you say quietly, gaze turning defiant. He should know that by now, you have an excellent threshold. Either way, you can’t imagine Aonung ever hurting you badly enough that you’d stay away anyway.

And then he cracks, his restraint crumbling, his grip holding himself back loosening, and he’s crashing his lips onto your with a vicious snarl.

With a small jolt, you remember you never kissed. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you; kissing seemed to intimate, and the arrangement had no room for intimacy. You always told yourself you didn’t have any time for it anyway.

But now, with Aonung tugging you closer with every second, kissing with such desperate fervour, it feels like he’s devouring you whole. His lips are hot and slightly chapped, rough and insatiable against yours, tongue slipping ruthlessly past your lips, fangs sinking lightly down on your warm, kissed skin. His hands are hungry too; roaming all over you with careless abandon, squeezing at the flesh of your ass, trailing between your thighs before infuriatingly pulling away to yank your top straight off your chest.

You let out a small hiss, whether you’re annoyed about the top or just shocked or just plain taken aback by his reckless thirst. The beads go scattering everywhere, the light, joyful plinks sounding completely inappropriate to Aonung’s heaving breaths, or the lewd, mortifying moan you let slip when he hefts you up into his lap and closes his lips around your breast.

You unconsciously arch backwards, pushing your chest forward, and he moves with careless hunger; licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy. He wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks sharply at it before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit.

And then, as though Aonung’s impatience gets the better of him (and you have to remind yourself that this is completely about him, and he wouldn’t be in the right mind to be processing your entire pleasure either), he’s pulling you away and tossing you against the floor.

You aren’t used to it. Sure, he’s been less than gentle before, but when he said he wouldn’t hold back, you admittedly had no idea what you were getting into. Seconds later he’s on top of you, pinning you down and sinking his fangs into your warm neck, inches away from the throb of your pulse.

Another symptom of heats and ruts; marking. It was another thing you’d been careful to avoid, so no one found out you were fucking, but Aonung’s animalistic instincts were obviously overpowering. And besides, it made you feel things you never would have imagined.=

At the first whine of his bite, Aonung knows you like it. So again and again he sinks his sharp fangs into your warm, soft flesh, along your neck, the underside of your breasts, the curve of your waist, the inside of your trembling thighs. Then, eyes looking carefully up at you to see your reaction, he lightly licks away the droplet of blood and brushes your clit with a large turquoise finger. You can't speak, just scrunch your nose tightly, grip onto his braids for dear life as he muscles his way in between your thighs and goes to fucking town.

Everything about him is just too much. His hands are holding you down with the force of an akula, as though he’s worried you’re going to scramble away from him, but you doubt you’d be able to anyway. He’s suckling at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over.

You’re never really that worried about being too gentle with him either, but you’re finding yourself more free in his rut state, knowing his mind is too hazy to focus on any of the little details he’d usually taunt you for if you dared to do them. He doesn’t care that you’re rutting into his face with desperation to rival his, in fact, you can see his hips searching for any sort of friction with the floor.

“Aonung,” you try to say, but it comes out as more of a broken whine. You cough and try again. “Aonung!”

He doesn’t respond, the only indicator he even heard you was the slight twitch of his ears before he’s sliding a thick finger into you. Trying your best to beat off the lewd moans that spill out of you, you try your best to tug at his head to speak to him, cause there’s no fucking way he’s listening properly when his head is nestled in its favourite spot, squeezed tightly between your thighs.

“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you huff, growing frustrated with the effort to slow him down. “That’s sort of the whole po-”

You cut yourself off with a positive shriek when he’s flipping you over, letting you flop against his front before dragging you up his body so your cunt is hovering over his face, thighs once again straddling the sides of his head in a very different scenario.

“Better?” he grunts, sounding extremely irritated.

“Where did you learn this?” you ask, looking in shock at the insatiable man beneath you, growing suddenly familiar with this position when your gaze drops to where it naturally falls, at the very large tent in his tewng. Aonung just huffs, as though growing increasingly annoyed that you keep delaying him.

“Don’t worry about that,” he growls. “You want to help me, go ahead. Now can I finish you off or are you going to keep yapping like your life depends on it?”

You scoff, but before your next words can be spoken, he drops you down onto his face and sucks at your clit. Hard. You let out a shocked squeak, jolting on his face, but he doesn’t protest at all by your weight, and when you worry you might suffocate him and try to lift off, his arm is looping around your waist and forcing you back down before remembering what you’re meant to be doing.

You reach out to grab his length, and he lets out a soft huff of impatience against you, the vibration making you flutter. Quickly, before you can get distracted to the point you’re completely useless to help him, you lick a long stripe up his length before closing your lips and swirling your tongue around the tip.

Thankfully, he seems somewhat satiated, letting out a relieved groan against your throbbing clit, and you slowly bob your head up and down his length, curling your tongue on the underside, dragging warmly against his sensitive flesh. But unfortunately, you forgot to factor in the rut aspect.

Soon enough, he was thrusting mindless up into your mouth, hand reaching out to hold you there, force you to take it all down your throat. You oblige, tears leaking from your eyes, moans spilling around his length in your mouth from his relentless nipping and sucking and licking between your thighs.

It is, by far, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done. You almost feel ashamed of all of it – the lewd sounds you make, the mortifying wet sounds from Aonung between your legs, his strong abs rubbing against your naked tits as he ruthlessly thrusts up into your mouth – but you remind yourself that it’s all for a noble purpose. You’re helping him out, that’s all. That is all it ever is.

And when you inhale deeply and take him down your throat, all warm and wet and hot around him, Aonung finds his hand falling to sink into your long dark hair, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a soft, rumbly, “fuck”.

And when he hits the back of your throat and you accidentally moan around his length, his hips accidentally buck into your mouth despite all his best efforts to compose himself, despite your small hand holding him back against the rock. Instantly your eyes fill with tears and Aonung hurriedly pulls you off him with a gentle grip on your hair.

He seems larger than ever, pulsing and swollen and obscene, driven mad and inconsolable with the animalistic desire consuming him, and you know he’s probably completely deaf to you. He pays no mind to the small sobs you let out against his length, though he remains determinedly focused in his task of sucking your soul out of your cunt.

You can’t tell if your lightheadedness is caused by the lack of air from Aonung being stuffed so far down your throat you can imagine he’s prodding your heart, or the overwhelming pleasure from his far less than gentle treatment between your legs, or maybe even both.

It’s filthy. It’s obscene. It’s fucking humiliating really, that there is just something so deliciously wrong with this situation. Oh god, Tsireya probably knew Aonung was in rut, probably knew what would happen, what’s going on right now in this hidden hut in the forest. You can’t even bring yourself to care.

Aonung’s practically leaking into your mouth and you continue, trying helplessly to keep up with his insatiable paces, but you’re growing further from focus the longer he continues, the harder he sucks at you, the further he pushes himself into your throat.

It’s sloppy, it’s messy, it’s hot. It’s a warm mix of saliva and precum that’s shining over your lips and mingling with the tears flooding shamelessly down your cheeks.

And when you come undone, it’s with a moan that’s positively obscene. Aonung’s a mess of strangled groans and bucking hips and hands sinking into your hair as he hungrily crests. Your tongue slides along the veins and ridges of his cock.

There is something just so perfectly fucked about the scene, and when you come back down, tears and come and saliva smeared all over your face and collar and tits, Aonung is still hard, and when he pulls you back down to his face, you realise he has no intention of letting up anytime soon.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before you feel it building again. It’s humiliating really, all your sounds and the way Aonung can definitely feel you practically throbbing. It’s overwhelming to the point you think you might actually die, but there’s no physical possibility you could pull away, not with his arm looped strictly around your waist to hold you still.

It’s hot in the hut, or maybe it isn’t, but you feel as though there’s fucking fire coursing through your veins, heating your face and definitely between your thighs. It seems impossible how much you like this, it’s fucked and filthy as well, but there’s something about Aonung’s insatiable hunger and his plain, shameless desperation.

Your moans are growing hoarser at his absolutely relentless movements, warm, textured tongue and slicked mouth sealing around your overstimulated, throbbing clit as his hands move to squeeze the flesh of your waist and hips and ass. You’re writhing against him with enough force to break his nose, but he’s just groaning right back as though this is helping as much as anything in his frustrated rut.

It’s too much, and it feels as though you might actually pass out on this once. Humiliatingly, yet somehow shamelessly, you’re begging for more, for less, to stop, to keep going. It’s slowly slurring into a sobbing mess until finally all that comes out of your mouth are lewd, strangled cries. You think that somewhere amidst that strangled heap of moans that his name is repeated, over and over again, his body tensing under you with every time you whine it, followed by a demeaning flood of incoherent sobbing.

And then it crests.

Somewhere in the middle of your euphoric, delirious vision of blank, tranquil white and the peaceful ringing in your ears, it strikes you that it really is like a wave. Because when it breaks, you fucking flood.

Your muscles are tensed so tight you might pull something, and you couldn’t care less. You can’t feel anything anyway, beyond blow after blow of overwhelming, world-shattering pleasure, completely unaware of the way you squirted beyond his mouth, over his whole face and body, your intense release gleaming with the tahnì over his flushed skin.

You babble incoherently for a moment, eyes wide and drooping at the same time, mouth open in hopeless shock, hands searching to find purpose on his hips before Aonung is lifting you up, chucking you back against the floor and crawling onto your trembling body.

If you thought the regular Aonung, your Aonung, had gone before, you have no idea what’s happening now. There is no trace of that taunting, careful, jealous, gentle man in those large blue eyes. Hell, there’s not even any blue either, just a starved icy ring around the pools of ravenous onyx gazing at you, filled with raw thirst.

There’s no sign of Aonung in any of his movements, not with the way he’s tugging you into him like you’re a fucking ragdoll, not with the heaviness of his breath, the way he claps you against him so he can sink his fangs into your shoulder as he pushes past the ring of resistance and slides into your tight, welcoming heat.

Your cry is strangled by the dryness of your throat, feeling yourself being stretched to a point you don’t think he ever even met before. It’s painful, but you find yourself not wanting anything more than being able to take him, to be able to bring him pleasure, to let him into his paradise between your legs.

This now is a brutal reminder of why you’re here, who all of this is about. Aonung radiates complete careless selfishness as he pushes deep into you, until you physically can’t take him anymore, until you’re sobbing against his shining chest, gripping his arms so tight his flesh is starting to bruise, before he pulls out and slams back in. Fuck.

You don’t know shit, where you are, what way’s up, even if you’re fucking na’vi or tawtute, because the stretch of his relentless length feels as though he’s absolutely ridiculously massive compared to you. All you can do is cling to his tense, growling figure, praying to Eywa that this is satiating him, your own body limp in his iron grip.

Your lolling head allows him perfect placement to your neck and shoulders and chest, where he litters you with hungry nips, warm, wet, textured tongue licking away the blood his fangs spilt. Your own hands can’t do much either, but when your nails dig into his back, he lets out a low, snarling groan against your skin, and you can’t help raking you hands up and down, tracing your mark into the rippling muscles under your fingers.

And when you think you might actually pass away, where the pleasure has peaked so high it might as well be in the fucking heaven tawtute talk about, Aonung pulls out to the tip, fingers lacing back to tug your kuru, neck completely exposed and throat tight with the stretch, and gaze trapped helplessly in his.

“You’re mine,” he snarls, face inches from yours, large eyes deluged in sharp ferocity. “Mine, forest girl.”

And you find you can’t do anything but whine weakly against him. You can hardly breathe in this position, feeling impossibly empty without him stuffed deep in you, yet still being stretched wide by him. His gaze is raking fiercely over your tear-streaked, flushed face, before he buries himself deep inside you once more and completely loses himself.

And you do lose yourself. You just blank out, knowing nothing but his weight against you, his lewd growls in your heart, feeling strangely safe and comfortable. And content.

When you come back, whether seconds or minutes or hours or maybe even days have passed, you don’t know. All you know is you’re slumped against the floor, and you’re no longer drenched in shining sweat, no longer glimmering with release over your skin. The bites scattering your body are throbbing with a warm sting, no longer bleeding, now ruby adornments to your skin.

There is nothing more distressing than the realisation that hits you next; that you’re alone.

With a flare of panic that makes all of you throb painfully, you creak up to a small, seated position. It stings more than the bites, than the stretch and the intensity of your releases. Aonung must have left you, used and littered, a helpful toy during his rut. The wound deepens when you remember that’s all he would have thought it was.

He had no idea - let alone his mind being in its animalistic, desirous state - simply believing you were here to aid him in his struggles.

But then something catches your eye, a dark, muscular pile in the corner of the hut. With terrified tentativity, you pad lightly over to Aonung’s slumped form, back turned to you, face buried in his lap. You can see the marks you raked into his back as you move closer, but you don’t dare to touch him.

“Aonung?” you whisper nervously. He doesn’t respond for a moment, and the tension curling inside you throbs painfully again. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t look at you. “Are you…”

“You should go,” he says tightly. His voice sounds strained, painful, but his words sting further than any ache he could be possibly feeling. You still, hands half reached towards him, face twisted in a helpless expression of hurt, trying your best to breathe. You have no idea why you feel so vulnerable right now, why he suddenly has the power to break everything within you, everything you know, and why he’s already halfway there.

“What?” you whisper, and despite all your best efforts, your small, trembling voice expresses all the ache and horror and heartache you tried to hide. Aonung’s muscles tense a little at the so painfully obvious brokenness of your voice, and you would give anything to see what his face looks like right now, as he ruins you.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters.

That’s all. No name. No explanation. Just two meaningless words tossed carelessly your way, like some twisted reparation for all the damage his last three words did. You bite your lip, feeling your eyes welling with tears.

WHY WERE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU RIGHT NOW.

This is Aonung, the man you hated since the moment you landed in Awa’atlu, the same one just a week before you had practically at your fucking feet. The one you swore you’d never feel this way about. But now here you are, already breaking at his carelessness.

WHY ARE YOU SO WEAK.

The tears stinging your eyes disgust you. Since childhood you had never cried. Not when protecting your siblings, not when getting shot by demons, not when leaving your clan and birthright and all you had ever known. And now you are about to cry over a fucking man, one that you tried so impossibly hard not to care for.

FUCK HIM.

“Fuck you.”

The words are out, they are spoken. Not with quite the ferocity you meant to snarl them with, but the brokenness of your voice had a certain effect too. Aonung tenses, but that just sparks the usual fire inside you. He had no fucking right to be upset right now.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice steadily emotionless, and that fire blazes brighter.

“Don’t be,” you glare. “I mean, the perfect prince of the clan does no wrong, right?”

“I’m sor-”

“Stop!” you shout, rage boiling inside of you. “Stop fucking saying that Aonung. I mean, this was the arrangement, right? Careless sex, no strings, no attachment, no concern, fucking NOTHING.”

Aonung’s shoulders slump slightly, and once again, your annoyance flares that he still won’t face you.

“So what was all that shit about your mine if you’re just going to kick me out now,” you say rawly. “Was it just your rut? Are you just a weirdly jealous fucking man, getting mad when people touch shit that isn’t actually yours? Why are you so fucking angry-”

“Look at yourself!” Aonung explodes.

It takes you a moment to realise that he’s suddenly standing, towering over you, fists balled and whole body tense, face twisted in rage and disgust. With himself.

You can’t think of anything to say for a moment, tense, furious silence falling in the dangerously small space between the two of you.

“I mean, you’re hurt,” he says, eyes raking over your body. The bites are glowing against the dark, rich blue like sanguine crescents. Your skin looks raw and flushed still, and you realise that he must have wiped everything off you. “You’re ruined.”

“Aonung I-”

“And I did that to you,” Aonung sighs, face twisting in slight distress as his eyes fall over the bites and grips and few bruises he left over you. You let out the breath you’d been holding.

Aonung’s gaze flicks up to yours, emotionless and blank as you stare back at him. There’s terror in his eyes, which are slowly returning to their usual blue, pupils shrinking away as the animalism of his rut starts to pass. He’s worried, maybe you’ll slap him, or shout at him again. But your hand comes to rest gently on his face, thumb brushing lightly over his flushed cheek.

“I told you Aonung, I can take it.”

Aonung squeezes his eyes shut, face screwed up in overwhelming emotion. But his head unconsciously leans into your hand, and you smile slightly.

“But I hurt you,” he whispers, sounding disgusted with himself.

“You’ll have to try harder than that skxawng,” you smile weakly, and Aonung lets out a shaky laugh. “But I was more than happy to do what it took to help you.”

“Eywa,” he groans, his own hand coming up to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sor-”

“Stop apologising skxawng,” you frown. “Or I’m actually going to leave.”

Instantly, Aonung’s hand closes around your own, his fingers lacing through yours and tugging you back, so you’re inches away from him, neck tipped back to look at him. There’s that usual grin playing around his face; although his face remains blank, you can see the smirk glittering in those eyes.

“Go on princess,” he whispers. “What were you saying, before I so rudely interrupted you?”

“That you’re a complete idiot,” you grumble, but you don’t let go of him. You don’t want to ever let go of him. “What did you mean before, about me being-”

“Mine,” Aonung finishes. “You’re mine.”

And you feel a small smile twitching at the corner of your lips.

“Alright,” you smile, blinking up at him.

“Alright?” he echoes, as though that wasn’t at all the answer he was expecting, what he dared to hope for.

“Yep. I’m yours, fishlips.”

There’s a brief moment where he’s silent, eyes wide and staring blankly at you. He blinks several times, lips parting, before he’s stepping in and wrapping his arms tight over you, pillowing your body in his own. After a moment, you lean in even closer and snake your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still think you’re a skxawng,” you mumble against his skin, and his laugh rumbles warm and comforting against you.

“Of course syulang,” Aonung grins, squeezing your waist lightly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stay in that embrace for a moment, before he realises just how tired you are, and then he’s instantly fussing about you, making sure you’re alright, that you don’t need anything, before he’s making you rest against him, cuddled warmly and comfortably on the floor.

His hand is resting lightly over you, lightly tracing your darker patterns or gently playing with your hair as you drift comfortably off, head resting comfortably against his solid chest. You can feel his warm heartbeat against your cheek, steady and reassuring.

When you wake up, he’ll be waiting to be able to hold you tighter without being scared of waking you up, having already gone out and hunted while you were sleeping. He’ll take you gently back to the village where you both deny any of the suspicious comments your friends and family shoot you, but no one believes you; the hopeless grins on your faces and the sly grins you send each other aren’t all that sneaky.

But for now, you’re warm and comfortable and happy in your fucked out, satisfied state, snuggled against the man you once hated so fiercely.

As far as it goes, you came out alright on this one.

Quite the victory it was.

Your tìyora.

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