#thank fuck people find me intimidating

[koreposion]

Being dependant on the validation of others, or using others to calm your state of mind and reassure you of yourself are not two good things. At all. And this horrid app has these two traits in a lotta people in abundance.

I'm not gonna be someone's support line. I don't want to be the reason someone gets up, or the reason someone does something, or to be there to comfort a person all of the time. I'm my own person with my own life and I'm not putting myself through a bunch of bullshit again.

The feeling of validation will never stick, you'll just want more and more of you don't become independent of it. And it's nice, it really is, but you don't need it to get through the world

[good-beanswrites]

🎬: About Es being a past prisoner and the secret 11th prisoner in your AU. But advance apologies if I'm overstepping into your AU!

I had this idea from a story that pretty much did the same thing. Going off there are novels/manga on Milgram and there being another Es and their own prisoners running another Milgram (but differently) I imagine this Milgram projects has been going on for a while, and our Es was from a previous project who might have gotten the worst verdict (or the most spared out of everyone), and was given this final task as a warden for the next group of prisoners. This is why they so readily agreed and had their memories wiped for this Milgram project instead of being weary on a shady project on judging an almost crime, they've already been through this.

(BTW is it bad and worrying for one of our ten fav prisoners to be the next Es if this is legit...)

Anyway, that's why Es is in Milgram in your AU, I guess? And the lore drop that Kotoko picks up on them being the 11th prisoner, I can imagine her also talking to Kazui since he's a policeman to see if she could cross out any theories on who Es is (Did they look familiar. Possible missing child. Any cases to do with an almost crime by a child other than the 10 of them here). Kazui knows Kotoko wants to investigate, but reminds her that, like in their prison while the trial is on, the facilities they're in have high security too. They do have the freedom to move about, but still limited.

If they're trying to investigate Es, maybe Fuuta, Kotoko and Mikoto can try to do the hacking on the comp Mikoto's allowed to use to Photoshop some shots for the MVs and photos (Fuuta and Kotoko seem to be able to search up info they need I think...). Yuno, Mahiru and Muu can work on charming the staff to see if they can spill more deets on Milgram. Not sure how much the group can gather, but oh boy fun times in Milgram can turn into another sort of stress in this AU...

No worries!! Like I said before, this whole au has been a fun collaborative project, so there's no overstepping :) I am sorry I won't be writing a lot on the ending until we get more info, but that's just the perfectionist in me who doesn't want to be proven wrong 😅 Still, I love tossing around and digging into ending scenarios, I really love this!

Because that would make a lot of sense why they're so willing to subject themself to the whole experiment! They remember how tough their experience was, and are confident they can care for the new set of prisoners while doing their job. I'm imagining they get the opportunity to return as guard, and get to have a nice talk with their own guard first. Once they fully understand what it's like, they're know they can handle it and sign up. It adds a bit of drama, too, since they must have been really young committing their crime in order to complete a years-long experiment prior to this one. They would have been like 10? Oof. (Now I wanna see their three trial songs 👀)

And like you said, that also brings up the question of the new warden. Though I think it's based on verdict results, I can just picture Jackalope keeping an eye on everyone during filming. He studyies their interactions and personalities, keeping his own set of notes on who would make a good successor. (I'm not going to go through every character but there are pros to any choice, it's very fun picturing them all taking the job.) Haha, on the other hand, maybe the reason Kotoko keeps bringing up her role as Es' partner/bringer of justice is because she did discover the truth. She drops as many hints as possible so she can be chosen next 😅

Ooh, I love her working with Kazui on an investigation! The fact that eh may know details on recent crimes (and almost-crimes) is super fun to work with. He's the last person who's going to spill a secret, so the group could go several trials without realizing Kazui had actually heard all about their situation this whole time.

(Getting sidetrack for a sec, I'm suddenly realizing that he and Kotoko may have heard things about the crimes in canon, too. They're a bit unclear about how much time passed between the murders and arriving to Milgram, so maybe he heard some things. I don't know how well-connected Tokyo police departments are, but Yuno, Fuuta, Muu, and Shidou are all nearby. There's definitely a chance he caught word of the vigilante nearby, and she heard about the odd policeman's suicide. Both of them could have heard about the tragic housefire, the disgraced doctor, or horrible schoolgirl murder nearby.)

Anyway, I like that idea of Kazui wracking his brain for any similar cases. Though, if he had, Milgram may have had the foresight to wipe parts of his memory, too. Maybe he does end up using his call to reach out to Hinako and have her look into it from the outside. Sadly, Kotoko seems the type to sacrifice her personal call to reach out to a connection who can help as well. I'll have to think about how closely Jackalope monitors those calls, hm.

I'm going crazy over prisoner investigation team !! Kotoko and Fuuta had the online knowledge to find some good info, and Mikoto and Kazui seem like they'd have a huge network of people they can ask for info and favors from. Haha, I'm torn whether Mahiru would have flirting down to a science or if she'd refuse to do it since it wasn't real love 😂 Still, she's very good at reading people and could definitely help the others charm and bribe their way into some restricted areas. Amane and Haruka can also charm with their innocence/cuteness (though I'm not sure Amane would). Shidou seems very organized, he'd have a plan and backup plan and backup-backup plan ready, no matter what happens. I think it's even funnier, then if Milgram had run several experiments prior. Jackalope would think this was just another runthrough, and for the first time the ten subjects decided to organize together and Cause Problems.

I think there's a beautiful irony in a story featuring ten prisoners planning a jailbreak to save the prison guard...

[caninecowboy]

rouge (/p), sky blue, sunny d, rose, mossy moss, ourple, mint, babybel wrapper :D

CMON ACHILLES UR TOO SWEET TO ME <33

[zzencat]

A Peek Into Your Future Person’s Midnight Thoughts (NSFW) - Timeless ⏳

From left to right. It’s the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

Batman wouldn’t get this info out of ‘em. What are they thinking about when they text you good night? These are the fantasies they’re too shy to share. No spiritual identities were revealed. (Minors DNI)

Note: This does not necessarily have to align with your kinks. This is what your future person wishes they could do to you.

Must do before you choose: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

——————————-

Pile 1. ‘Yeah? Say that again. I dare you.’

straight up strength kink. trapping you between their arms (thank you kim mingyu for the inspo and energy)

you could share a (huge) height difference with this person and it makes them want to protect you

they either have a muscular build or are very much taller than you. a lot of fs in this pile have both. especially working out the arms.

they like to see you feisty so that they have a reason to conquer yo ass

HEAVILY thinks about pushing you against a wall (a beige-colored wall, in particular) in a hotel room and fucking you against it

the type of person to edge you so much that you start crying

this person may have given you hints or will you give signs of their kinks before, so you will get the idea that they have a brat taming kink

will purposefully try to piss you off to get you all hotheaded and feisty. they really want to test your limits so that you “try” and “teach them a lesson” or “intimidate them” with a finger to their chest and everything—like “just bc you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you can keep pissing me off.” it’s laughable for them bc this is what they wanted. they’ll let this build up for a little more, keep trying to rile you up…UNTIL it explodes and they finally show you who’s really in charge. you may or may not of like this but you’ll be blushing like crazy lmfao

they tend to go for types that are too easy to overpower physically. it’s even cuter if you’re shorter than them and very obviously can’t take them down

fantasizes about holding you down/keeping you stationed while going down on you

this person might be hairy. think of a human to werewolf transformation. a good 50% of you will encounter someone completely clean shaven, sophisticated looking, keeps composure so damn well, but has reallllly freaky desires and fantasies. you wouldn’t be able to tell. the hints are subtle tho and will come up in their everyday actions towards you. (example: cleaning up after you or watching out for you, holding you close when a stranger approaches…i’ll add more in the points of interest 🤧)

holy shit…listen, if this is a sibling of someone you know, they’ll def fantasize abt fucking you with said sibling(s)/family members around, sneaking around the family house, doing it in risky places and times (have mercy!!!) — ex: cupping your mouth while they go down on you or tease you like “you don’t want them to find out, do you? keep quiet for me”

they’d love to hold your jaw in place and make you look at them while they pleasure you

wouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed for making you moan too loud. if youre at an event, they get off on people hearing you — doesn’t matter if your parents or the elderly hear it

this person really gets off on the idea of having sex in public. they’re a true exhibitionist :)

(expanding off my previous point) most of the fs in this pile don’t get…jealous?? like very “look but don’t touch” type of person when it comes to you; they know people don’t dare to compete with them. this person is very confident in where they stand in your life. if you ever suggest bringing in someone to watch you guys, they would be okay with the idea. now, a very small percentage are extremely possessive in this pile, but the idea is the same. i’m not ignoring them but only mentioning them slightly bc the small percentage want you to at least be aware that they’re capable of feeling extreme possessiveness (reminder: not the same as jealousy). as long as people know that you guys are together (and it’s been made obvious) and don’t try to cross the line or make passes at you, pile 1 fs is confident enough and typically doesn’t feel the need to prove more

^^ but i will say that some subtle signs of jealousy include trying to look superior to other “threats” to your relationship

stay with me now. they fantasize about you trying your best- whatever that means ?!?! bc of the height difference, if you get sassy with them or even get annoyed at them, all they do is just smirk and make it known that you’re just a doll to them (to keep it very vague w you).

honestly this person would be down to take you anywhere. for some reason, they always want people to know you guys are fucking so they think about doing it in public a lot. this person could work on just simply having nice slow sensual sex in the bedroom tho. i think it’s just cuz they crave the thrill and it’s a fat ego boost. but cmon…it’s nice to just have some chill loving sex once in a while (i’m nudging their spirit abt it)

you guys could be TOTAL opposites and have an enemy-to-lovers trope going on. OR extremely similar feisty, fiery personalities. some people here have a fwb or ewb kind of relationship w them already OR one of you has fantasized abt it

they could honestly give you a whole list of what they like and want to do to you but would rather show you (they’re pretty impatient). they need to know you’re wanting- no- craving the same thing- that you want them as much as they want you

points of interest: teasing to NO end (in bed and out); has a habit of calling you pet names (even when not in a relationship w you) or nicknames; tall; height difference; possible mbti: very VERY estp, entj, a tiny bit of estj vibes; your front or back against the wall; take you down - chris brown; backshots; hands behind head, “try it. i dare you”; “you’re not that strong” (idk who- either you or your person says this in hopes to rile the other up); tickle fights or play fighting that leads to…other things 😏; a friend’s sibling, unexpected or forbidden relationships; going down on you in a closet at a family vacation home (?!?! damn)

——————

Pile 2. ‘Treat me like your doll.’

you or this person could be a switch, but regardless, you will have many chances to take charge

the bondage is too obvious in this pile. they also may have body image issues

this person could be sub-leaning tbh. probably struggles making eye contact with you during the deed or just in general (w/ you or people)

wants to please you and be used by you

masochistic as hell

someone here struggles with very obvious self esteem issues, but through this relationship and learning how to trust and be vulnerable, you will both heal each other on a deeeeeply emotional level. you will make this person feel comfortable in what they fantasize about and this will be reciprocated

for some in this pile, like a good 45% of people, your fs may have dealt with sexual guilt growing up. (for a second, i felt like saying more but it’s safer for me to keep it vague for their sake.) this is reallll vague, so i’ll try to word it more carefully…the guilt can come from a plethora of things…

yk what would be beneficial for them? if you pleasured them while making them look in the mirror

this person is pretty shy with expressing their sexual desires. for many, this could be their first time, or just extremely inexperienced (but they feel embarrassed to admit that)

listen, the emotional sex will be insane. crying, lots of love—if you’re into dacryphilia, this will be your jam

trust is so important for them. also looking at each other’s eyes while going at it

deep long kisses that fade into sloppier, more desperate and needy ones (coming from more of their side)

idk how to explain this kink but it’s like…getting off to something you can’t have? they’d feel guilty about touching themselves to the thought of you (during the time you’re not yet dating each other) and that mental image would spiral into picturing you standing in front of them and just watching them get off to you while they’re on their knees. they see you as someone to be worshipped. they’ll be begging and possibly crying for you to let them cum

yk the deeper i dig into this, the more emotional it gets. i think this person is a huge people pleaser and has found it hard to be loved in this life time. but no worries, bc this relationship will help you both connect and become vulnerable. as long as you’re confident in yourself and carry a normal to high self esteem, you should be great in the relationship

mommy/daddy kink (it doesn’t mention who will be what but it’s def gonna be something they’ll be shy to confess), loves praise, collars (being collared), being your pet

this person would thank you for touching them. they could get pretty poetic in bed when edged for hours and under so much exposure

they def have the ability to be more dominant, but you’d really have to reel it out of them; they’re afraid of messing up

on the other hand, degradation will work wonders on them as long as you soothe those wounds later. praise and degradation will change this person’s life lmfao, as long as your timing is right

they’ll touch themselves thinking about soft and sensual, sensitive and teasing sexual acts, like mutual masturbation or if you use your hand to get them off while peppering their jaw with kisses

very sensitive person so their has to be a lot of trust between you to unlock the…freakier stuff (which is why i’ll cut it short. this is all they’re giving you for now 😎🤚)

points of interest: pinkie promises, very in tune with their feminine energy, “you’ll be here forever, right?”, very soft person with an insane sex drive, shy, doesn’t ask for much- just wants you to be there with them, quietly existing, kinda reminds me of those emo kids who date and kiss in the corner (but you guys will be engaging in no such cringe, esp not in public), shyly clings onto your hand, HOODIES hoodies hoodies, cool toned filters on pictures, matching clothes or accessories- i’m getting one person has a lock and the other with a key, collars with a heart on it, likes when someone gets possessive over them, will unintentionally spill their thoughts and ideas and then apologizes for rambling…i feel like a lot of you in this pile relate to them a lot…like very similar in personality or smth…lot of similarities (even subtle or suppressed parts of your personality), i really don’t think you’d be able to tell they’re a secret freak (maybe thru the way they dress but by personality, prob not), very artistic people- whatever art form they love or seek comfort from, you will find this very attractive and unique

- very small note: i realize that i don’t feel the need to correct the commas and make them semi-colons to show the list. i think it’s their energy being very forgiving and that they don’t care if you mess up (lowkey it’s bc they’re used to being hurt 😞). very unlikely to call out your mistakes. they just want you to be there with them, to love them of their flaws. they will undoubtedly do the same. they just don’t want you to leave them.

———————

Pile 3. If you look at them, you’ll laugh.

ok right of the bat, you guys are unarguably the most “nontoxic”, healthy, but also vanilla relationship out of the piles 😂😂

this person doesn’t have too many crazy ideas or thoughts when they think about sex tbh. they also don’t watch porn or at least are not addicted to it. very vanilla person with a normal sex drive

they prob get off like once or twice a day but sex to them is a bonding activity with you filled with laughter and some jokes (which both of you could work on if you want to ever engage in more kinky and dark stuff, esp since it could be hard for you to get serious and in the mood)

^^ like if you’re being handcuffed and you’re ticklish, this person will tickle you (unless you like this being done, it could mess with the sensual moment a bit 😅)

very gentle person. thinks about caressing your body

very affectionate and wants to tend to your needs. the last thing they want to do is have you in tears after sex (unless it’s happy tears)

they’re mostly serious with sex when they’re touching themselves alone (if you’re not physically there)

if you’re doing long distance, they’ll wait to have sex w you rather than touch themselves

don’t get me wrong yk they’re down to doing the freaky stuff too- but i think you guys are so in the “best friends” laughing with each other all the time, it could get unserious real quick 😂😂 if you’re okay with that, things should be ok for you 👍

open to engaging in all sorts of kinks and sexual fun, but they prefer it to be with you and not with another person involved. not that theyre judgmental of it, they just don’t want to have sex with others watch you guys or having another person/people involved. they prefer it to just be the 2 of you

so much laughing, too many good vibes, they’re completely enamored by you

you could share a similar personality to each other, but weirdly, without disrupting the balance

just touching your skin and cuddling for hours = sex for them

points of interest: EXTREMELY LOYAL; can’t see anyone in this world but you; loves what you think are your flaws; massaging your feet; caressing your body fat; will go wherever you want to go and they’d plan the trip too if you’d like; very kind person—so nice that they could try to help everyone- they don’t look at these as bad things at all; animal person; they’re as warm as they look; it would take a long time to piss this person off bc they’re that understanding; they could come off as too positive and naive tho, if you’re like “don’t you see that person was trying to scam you?” and they’d shrug, pull you close with a grin and be like “it’s okay. they probably needed that money. i don’t mind 🙂‍↔️”, very precious soul, not into polygamous relationships

—————-

Teddy Note: Sorry guys I forgot my little ending speech so I’m going back to add it here- THANK YOU for taking the time to read this. I hope your day is going smoothly and if not, no worries, we got tomorrow. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. I love that saying when any reader says it. Energy can seriously follow you if you dwell on it too much, while thinking about it negatively. Again, thanks for joining me on my readings if you’re new here :)

Have a good one guys. Teddy out 😎👍👍

[highvern]

Drive Me Crazy

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating

Length: ~3.7k

Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness

summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care. 

“Uhhh—”

“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”

“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth. 

“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”

“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.

You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“That’s fucked up.”

The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”

“There’s more?”

“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”

“Like?”

“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”

“What?”

“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you scream. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.

You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”

“I’m not a kidnapper!”

“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.

“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.

He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried but you talk a lot.” 

Another good point.

“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”

“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”

You balk. “That’s so sad.” 

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”

“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”

If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless. 

There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.” 

He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.

“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream. 

“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.

“Ugh…” he hesitates. 

“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”

“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”

“Because?”

He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”

“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.

Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”

“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”

“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”

“What a bitch.”

“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”

“I have no idea, complete stranger.”

“Like hand stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”

Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.

He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using. 

“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”

“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”

“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.” 

“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”

“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”

“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”

“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”

“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”

“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says. 

Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.

Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.

Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.

You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.

It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.

Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.

“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”

“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”

“The world is full of mysteries.”

“My name is Jungkook by the way.”

Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.

“Y/N.”

You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.

His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want. 

You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand. 

“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.

“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.

Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.

You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”

“No.” 

A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”

“You don’t have to,” he hisses. 

You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.” 

“Seriously?” he marvels.

“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”

“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time. 

You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.

He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”

“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.

“Too late now.”

You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”

He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.

“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.

“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.” 

Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.

“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting. 

“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious. 

“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”

An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing. 

“O-oh,” you hitch.

Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence. 

He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?” 

“Yeah, do it again,” you praise. 

He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit. 

"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.

"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—" 

“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”

He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.

“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”

“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”

You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”

“Sorry, a pussy.”

“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”

Pointed silence is answer enough.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”

He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly. 

“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg. 

“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.

"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."

One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth. 

The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.

And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.

“Oh–fuck me, god.”

It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.

He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.

“Can I—” he asks around your clit.

“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”

A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.

“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard. 

You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.

Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure. 

“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt. 

You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.

“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.

His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will. 

“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips. 

“I-it’s okay.”

You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”

Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”

“Really?” you ask in awe.

Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”

He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling. 

Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.

When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb. 

“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.

“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”

The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29

@luvseungcheol @crisle19

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[sturnioz]

‘BAD BOY’ — CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

pairing. christopher sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut

word count. 1.8k

❝made just for me, aren't you?❞

content warnings. explicit content, porn without plot, mean!chris, lip ring!chris, fingering, unprotected sex, big dick!chris, dirty talk, creampie

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Chris’s voice growls, warning you to quieten down your pathetic sounds of desperation, his lip ring grazing against the shell of your ear. You shiver at the sudden contact, the coldness that nips at your skin.

You firmly press your lips together to conceal the noises that threaten to escape, all thanks to Chris’s hand that’s shoved beneath the waistband of your already ruined panties, his fingers rubbing vigorously at your clit while the other hand presses down on your stomach, holding you still against his chest.

Your legs are spread wide open, locked by his own. Your muscles ache, needing to be released from his hold but with the way the heel of his shoe digs into your calves to push them open even further, you know there’s no way you’ll be let out of this position any time soon.

Honestly, it amazes you how you ended up in this position, with Chris of all people.

Chris, so you thought, was one of the bad boy quiet types—bad in a way that his blunt personality got him into a lot of trouble, and that he didn’t give a fuck about other people and his surroundings as he mostly kept to himself, refusing to get involved with others unless it was necessary.

Chris didn’t like talking to people, and he never made the effort to make conversation with people he barely knew, always the type to hang his head low and sharply glare at whoever tried getting too close to him.

You walking over to him was a dare, all thanks to your friends, wanting to see if you could be the one to get a somewhat decent conversation out of him before he did his usual intimidation technique of glaring and ignoring.

But one moment you were both sitting on the couch together—surprisingly having small talk about something so silly and bland—and the next you were back at his place, spread open on his unmade bed on the verge of cumming.

“How are you so wet from me playing with your clit?” Chris ridicules you with a scoff, his movements refusing to slow down as you wiggle against his hold. “Are you really that easy? Are you that much of a needy slut that you get turned on from a simple touch?” Chris clicks his tongue against his teeth, “That’s fucking pathetic.”

“Chris—”

“Did I say you could speak?” 

You immediately shut up, and you throw your head back on Chris’s shoulder, staring up at the postered covered ceiling with a silent gasp as he presses the heel of his palm down on your swollen clit, rubbing in sloppy circles which has your head spinning.

His chin digs uncomfortably in your collarbone to peer down at his hand inside your underwear, scoffing at the sight of the lace dampening as his fingers stroke your puffy folds, teasing your cunt before plunging two fingers inside.

You’re in shock at how easy he’s pumping his fingers in and out of your sloppy cunt, reaching further than yours or anyone else's fingers have ever reached before. Your toes curl in pleasure, your own hands grasping at his wrist to keep yourself grounded, unable to keep your noises at a minimum.

“Louder,” Chris mutters his order. “Let me know how good my fingers fill you up.”

When he adds a third, the stretch is uncomfortable at first and you’re afraid you’re not going to be able to handle it, but it soon dissolves into pleasure once you find yourself enjoying the feeling of being full, and your back arches against his chest, a mixture of broken moans and whines spilling from your lips. 

“Pl—ah! please, keep going… don’t—fuck—don’t stop!” You babble incoherently, no longer being able to keep quiet as he continues fucking you with his fingers, the heel of his palm rubbing over your clit for extra stimulation.

“Can you hear how wet you are?” Chris hums in your ear, pressing his lips to your lobe in a seemingly gentle kiss. “Listen to the way you sound.”

It makes you dizzy hearing how wet you are, the squelching noise of his fingers plunging into your cunt fills the room, blending in with your own cries. It’s tipping you closer and closer to the edge, that band in your stomach tightening, and with one simple curl of his fingers, you cum hard.

You’re shaking through your orgasm, and your hand grips tighter around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to stop him from overstimulating you as your legs tremble with each movement he makes. 

He removes his other hand from your stomach to rip your grip away, forcing you to stop pinching him with your nails as he continues to finger you through your orgasm, watching as your release soaks his hand and your already ruined panties. 

“There we go…” The chuckle that rumbles in his chest vibrates on your back as you slump against him, trying to catch your breath. Although, you don’t have time to get comfortable as Chris is already shoving you off of him, your body falling slack on the bed sheets as he climbs above you, shoving himself between your legs.

The panties that stick uncomfortably to your pussy are ripped off in seconds, thrown carelessly across Chris’s bedroom floor and you watch through blurred vision as his fingers quickly make work of the belt buckle on his jeans. 

Once he shoves them down his legs, kicking them off his feet with his boxers, that’s when you suck in a deep breath at the sheer size of his cock. You wonder how he was going to fit inside your cunt, and your legs instinctively close around his hips, causing his head to sharply lift up to look at you with a darkened glare.

“It’s not—it’s not going to fit…” You explain with a panicked expression, shaking your head quickly. “You’re too big. It’s not—you’re not going to fit, I��”

“Why do you think I fingered you in the first place?” Chris asks you, and his hand comes up to touch your cheek more gently than you expected, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip. “I was getting your pussy prepared, sweetheart… open and ready for me.”

His words are enough to send a shiver down your spine and your cunt desperate to be filled. You unlock your legs from around his hips, relaxing down on the bed but Chris has other plans as his hands drip the backs of your thighs to push upwards, the strain painful but you shove it to the side as he rests each of your legs on his shoulders and leans over you, leaning you squished and folded in half.

Your fingernails dig into his biceps, your face twisted into a wince as you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and you suck in a deep breath as Chris slides into you with ease, his balls form against your asscheeks as he buries himself in your wet heat.

The stretch is almost unbearable and the cramp in your thighs makes you want to shove him off and tell him you can’t take it, but the subtle roll of his hips has his cock brushing against your walls and you shiver, nails digging further into his skin with your jaw slacked. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight…” Chris hisses through his teeth, his breath fanning across your face as it hovers just above yours.

You want to kiss him badly. You haven’t kissed since the night first started, and you would be lying if you said you haven’t yearned for his lips. Even when you’ve tried to kiss him, he always pulls away, opting to bite down on his lip ring instead.

You’re slightly annoyed, baffled on why he seems so fine on fingering you and fucking you but not giving you a simple kiss. Yet the annoyance slips away when his hips draw back, only to thrust forward deeply, his skin slapping against yours.

“You’re too big,” You whimper, pressing your lips together tightly as the tears brim in the corner of your eyes. “How are you so big?”

Chris just smirks, and he turns his head to nip the skin of your leg as he fucks into you, picking up the pace with each thrust. He’s grunting loudly, and he’s swearing under his breath every time he feels your cunt squeeze around his cock.

“You’re so good, so fucking tight,” Chris mumbles, his gaze meeting yours. “Your pussy is the perfect fit… made just for me, aren’t you?” His eyes seem to darken for a moment, his grip tight on your legs. “Tell me. Tell me you’re made for me.”

“I… I’m—”

”I can’t hear you,” Chris growls with one hard thrust.

You wail loudly, throwing your head back against the pillows as the tears stream down your cheeks. “I’m made just for you!!”

“God…” Chris groans. “You’re such a good girl.”

Much to your surprise, Chris finally leans down to mould his lips with yours, the cold metal lip ring sending a shock to your core and you immediately erupt, your legs shaking on his shoulders as you cum once again.

You’re moaning against his lips, your hands sliding up his shoulders to grip the curly tufts of hair on the nape of his neck, allowing his thrusts to drive you into overstimulation as he chases his own high.

The headboard of the bed knocks against the wall with each powerful thrust of his hips, and you could honestly care less if you’re waking up his neighbours or his roommates, too focused on the way his lips feel on yours, his tongue dipping into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum,” Chris tells you with a whisper, sadly breaking the kiss to look you in the eyes. “Are you gonna let me cum in your pussy?”

“Yes,” You nod hastily, wanting him to fill you up. “Cum in me. Please.”

Chris grins, leaning down to press his lips to yours once more before he gives you last deep thrust and stills, groaning into your mouth as his cock pumps, filling you with his cum. You gasp, holding his hips tightly as he emptied himself inside of you, filling you to the brim just like you wanted.

Chris grunts heavily before pulling away from your lips, sitting up on his knees and letting your legs slip off of his shoulders, dropping numbly to the bed. 

You’re exhausted—you’re aching—but you watch him as Chris gazes down to where his cock is still buried deep inside your cunt, a grin spreading across his lips as his hand presses down on your lower stomach, feeling himself in your guts.

“See?” Chris hums, raising his head to meet your eyes. “Made just for me.”

© sturnioz

[satoruhour]

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ��slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

[nerdy-novelist017]

i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!

Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!

Word Count- 2k+

Summary- See request above.

Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club. 

Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door. 

“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking. 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”

“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”

Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.

“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation. 

“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”

You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you? 

But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.

******

Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore. 

You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent. 

Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you. 

You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence. 

“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.

Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”

He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.” 

You shrugged. “Not much happened.”

“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you. 

You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”

You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”

He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”

“What were they saying?”

You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look. 

He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me,” he was quick to say. 

“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.

Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”

“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”

“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.

“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”

“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.

“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.” 

“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you. 

Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times. 

He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”

Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!” 

He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.

His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”

You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.

-Tag List-

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[heizlut]

Hello! Can I plz request where Aether, Venti, Gorou, Kazuha, Itto, and Diluc find out that their s/o is a submissive in bed?

ooo i like this!!! thanks for sending this in!

tags: gn sub!reader, dom!characters, rut (itto), worship kink (venti), no use of y/n

cw: semi-public in diluc and venti’s sections

nsfw under the cut

Aether~

Aether was so happy to have an s/o who could keep up with him as he travelled across Teyvat. It seemed he never had to worry about you no matter what dangers you faced together. You were headstrong, always taking the initiative when it came to accepting commissions and speaking up for the both of you when someone’s request was particularly unreasonable. You certainly were not afraid to express your distaste when a request was quite..stupid for lack of better words. Aether didn't mind letting you take the lead when it came to those decisions, secretly cheering you on when you spoke your unfiltered thoughts and feelings.

After a tiring day of getting absolutely no where in finding his sister, Aether was particularly pent up with frustration. He tugs you close to his body as he begins pressing feverish kisses to your neck, "Need you now.." You moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access, "Want me to make you feel better?" He pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes with a smirk, "Oh yeah? How about you get on your knees for then?" Aether challenged you, only half-joking, not thinking you would actually do as he said. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you obediently sink to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with such a submissive look in your eyes as you wait for his next instruction. He can't help the way his cock throbs in his pants seeing his headstrong s/o being so submissive for him. Growing slightly impatient with him, you open your mouth sticking your tongue out showing that you were absolutely serious about this. He tugs his pants down just enough to let his aching cock out, all leaky and throbbing. Aether guides his dick to your mouth, tapping it on your tongue as if to test how patient and obedient you would truly be. When you don't move on your own, he smirks and pushes his length into your mouth as he begins to fuck your throat, letting his frustrations melt away, "So good for me... fuck."

Venti~

Your relationship with Venti had the very obvious dynamic of golden retriever and black cat, with him being the golden retriever and you being the black cat. The people of Mondstadt are often baffled at the sight of you two together, wondering how such a cheerful bard could be with someone so... intimidating. Venti often joked that he had scary dog privileges with you by his side. Despite your outward demeanor, you were honestly quite silly and happily went along with his shenanigans. On this particular evening, you had found yourselves making out behind the Church of Favionious. Your lips press against his feverishly. You pull away slightly, looking at him with absolute adoration as you softly say, "Let me worship you properly" Venti lets out his signature laugh, his eyes hold a mischievous glint, "Oho! You wish to worship your archon~? Let's start with you worshipping Lord Barbatos on your knees then~"

Gorou~

Gorou was so proud to have such a strong warrior for an s/o. You fought by his side formidably, even helping him strategize against the Shogunates. You also weren't afraid to put any disrespectful soldiers in their place. He had to admit that your strong-willed and fierce attitude turned him on, but he secretly wanted to test if he could turn the tables. Gorou had no idea that watching him command other soldiers and lead the frontlines during battle had you wanting him desperately to show that side of him to you in the bedroom.

That night you approach his tent with a rather shy look on your face which instantly catches Gorou's attention. He rushes over to you checking you over for anything that might be causing you to behave this way when suddenly you gently cup his face in your hands, "Gorou.. I want to try something new.." You trail off, a blush falls over your cheeks as Gorou looks at you a little confused, "Something new? You mean you have a new battle strategy?" You shake your head, forcing yourself to look up at him, "I.. want you to command me like how you command the other soldiers.. I want you to... Take control of me.." Gorou's face heats up at your words, his cock begins to harden as he processes your words. His face quickly morphs into a sly smile as he pulls you close to him, his hand holding your chin with slight pressure as he tilts your face up to his, "You want me to be in charge?" He breathes out a small laugh, "Well, that can certainly be arranged. Now be good for me and get on the bed. Now."

Kazuha~

Kazuha enjoyed watching you help Beidou dish out orders to the other crew members. You looked like such a sweetheart, but you had quite the sharp tongue, never failing to catch unsuspecting people off guard. They never thought the s/o of gentle wanderer Kazuha to be so sharp with their words when the situation called for it. When you and Kazuha finally have your first intimate moment with each other, the poet of many beautiful words is suddenly...at a loss for words when you tell him that you prefer to be the submissive one. Kazuha takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss on top of it, "And here I thought you would be the one to want to take the lead... Not that I mind this development at all. In fact, I'm rather pleased." He leans forward pressing a kiss to your cheek and lowers his voice for only you to hear, "Although, I hope you realize what you've just signed yourself up for, darling."

Itto~

Itto loved being with you so much. You weren't afraid to get into a bit of trouble with him and the rest of the Arataki gang. Often times people would mistake you or Kuki as the actual leader of the gang with the way they would watch you both take charge of them in your own ways, with you leading the mischief and Kuki chastising you all when you get yourselves in trouble with the Shogunates.

It was nearing spring time which meant Itto would have to hide himself away from you, not wanting to overwhelm you with the rut he would have to endure as an oni, especially when you two haven't gone further than making out and feeling each other's bodies. You were concerned when Itto didn't show up today for the onikabuto battle he promised you, so you make your way towards his home completely oblivious to his rut. You barge right in as you usually would only to be quickly tackled to the ground by a large body, "Gah! Itto! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" You look up at your oni boyfriend only to notice his eyes are darkened with lust, "Sorry... Couldn't help myself. I.. need you" He ruts against your core causing you to let out a pathetic sounding whimper as he whispers apologies over and over, "It's my rut. Spring makes us oni a little..." You place your finger over his lips, "You don't have to explain. Use me however you please." Itto's movements halt momentarily, "Y'really mean that? Don't go saying stuff like that right now..." You roll your hips upwards to meet his, "Please..." A low growl rips from his throat as he tears your clothes off with his sharp nails. You definitely weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Diluc~

Having you as his s/o is like a sigh of relief. So many of his burdens with the winery and Angel's Share seem to lift from his shoulders when you take the initiative in organizing client orders and business deals so that he can have some reprieve. His heart swells with pride when you have no qualms in kicking out particularly rowdy guests from the tavern or even straight up denying Kaeya and Venti of more alcohol when they've clearly had more than enough of their fair share (and when Venti's tab has clearly met its limit).

After the tavern closes for the night, Diluc watches as you bend forward over a table while wiping it down and feels his cock stir to life. He approaches you hesitantly as he wants your first time with him to be meaningful. You straighten up only to feel him and his hardening cock pressed against your back. You bite your lip as you turn around to face him, looking up at your lover as he stares down at you with desire burning in his eyes. He gently caresses your cheek and softly asks, "May I kiss you?" You smile at his gentle approach to intimacy and you nod. He leans forward, softly pressing his lips to yours and then pulls away, "Was that okay?" You let out a soft laugh and place your hand on his chest, "Diluc... You don't have to be so gentle with me you know. I would do anything you want, no questions asked. I just want to make you happy and make you feel good." Your words make him pause, "Anything...I want?" You laugh softly again and repeat your words as you look up at him with love in your eyes, "Anything you want. No questions asked." He doesn't spare another minute in hoisting you up onto the table, immersing you both in hungry kisses and rough but sensual touches. You really have no idea what you've just sparked to life inside of him. Diluc can only hope you truly meant what you said because he wasn't going to hold back now.

a/n: pretty sure i blacked out while writing diluc and aether’s sections🥴 i tried to keep them as in character as i possibly could and i think i succeeded? i hope you liked this, anon!

[targaryenluvs]

THE SMALLFOLK’S PRINCESS

PAIRING: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Dark!Greens x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: After meeting you whilst scouring for his brother, Aemond finds himself interested in you. Even if you aren’t a Targaryen, and it’s not like you can resist a Dragon, right?

WARNINGS: Dark Themes, Stalking, Jealousy, Abuse of power, Intimidation, Marriage

WORDCOUNT: 2.2K

A/N: I’ve been wanting to start posting again, and with Hotd s2 I have the perfect come back period :) Requested here.

You’d been shopping for chicken at the markets for your brothers birthday. Your mother wanted to make his favourite dish and your father had returned home from Driftmark where he owned a fleet of fishing vessels.

Your family was middle class. You’d never gone to bed hungry, and were raised in a family of love. Whilst you didn’t have the money to buy a new dress or jewellery every week, you were more than comfortable with what you had and grateful.

Your parents had worked hard for everything they had and they only wanted the best for you. To marry someone who could care for you and so they wouldn’t have to worry for your safety.

You wanted safety. You’d seen some of the worst parts of Kings Landing, and heard the rumours of Flea Bottoms past notoriety for its darkness.

All you wanted was to never experience it, or have your children experience it. To know your family was secure. You cared, some would say too much.

You especially cared for your family. So picking the best ingredients and foods for tonight was crucial in your mind. As you browsed the meat, you couldn’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable. Was someone watching you right now?

With a swift turn you’d managed to view a finale of a dark hood bowing down as your gaze reached it. But it simply disappeared amongst the sea of people, odd.

You returned to the stall and picked your choices, “Thank you, keep the change.” The seller beamed as she gladly accepted the offer, “Oh bless you sweet girl.” You nodded your head before collecting your bag. Everything needed for dinner had been bought, except a certain drink.

You’d never heard of it before, but apparently it was only sold out of a brothel. How fun.

Your hand coiled around your bag as you passed unsavoury characters. To be in the pits of Kings Landing was idiotic in all honestly, especially for a woman alone. But you had a sense of security in the dagger by your hip.

A glimpse of silver hair to your side caused your head to tilt, what Targaryen would spend their time here?

Prince Aegon of course. “Aegon!” Aemond yelled for his brother as the elder of the two ran through the crowd colliding into surrounding people.

The Prince continued to run recklessly as you and others watched the scene unfold. He was obviously drunk and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the younger Targaryen. You knew he was having a hard time.

So you may or may not have put your foot out.

“Fuck!”

Aegon fell to the floor as you pretended to come to his aid, “Are you alright my prince?” Aegon was about to push your hands off of him, but one look at your face had him biting his tongue. “I am quite all right.” You held your hands out for Aegon to take them, as you hoisted him up Aemond stood tall to the right.

“I guess I’ve been caught Dear Brother.” He smiled widely at his brother. Aemond had his arms crossed against his stomach with a hardened expression. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or annoyed, either way you didn’t want to be on his bad side. “It seems so. Come along now Aegon, don’t make this any more complicated. Unless you’d rather have guards escorting you back.” At the idea of guards Aegon groaned and turned to his brother, clinging to his elbows as he shook his younger brother.

You wondered if he remembered you.

“I’ll go with you, quit hastening me. Hastening? Hassling? Whatever. As long as this fine woman helps me to the comforts of my bed. You’d love to see the inside of the Red Keep no?” You batted your eyes as you realised the Prince was speaking to you. His and Aemond’s gaze burnt into you, brightening your cheeks as you shook your head, “There’s no need for my help Prince Aegon. I’ll be on my way.” With a quick smile you dismissed the conversation, but Aegon hardly relented.

He was taken aback by your dismissal, but not disheartened, “I did not say you could leave nor was I asking.”

And so you found yourself lugging the touchy drunkard all the way back to the castle. Thankfully you’d decided to dress nicer today, otherwise you’d feel even more out of place. The Red Keep was daunting, especially for those whom did not reside within the walls. The large, imposing nature was unsettling, imagining the silence at night was more than enough to remind you of your own bustling home. Thankfully you rarely dealt with silence due to your family.

With Aegon dumped into bed and snoozing away, you brushed your dress off and settled your hair since it was probably a mess. Aegon was much nicer company when he slept like a newborn babe. “Much more peaceful when he’s asleep no?” A laugh escaped you as you agreed with Aemonds words, “Definitely quieter, and less whiny.” Aemond’s eyebrow raised at your boldness, “I mean—,” It was his turn to laugh, or rather scoff. “Do not worry, I understood your meaning. It’s getting late outside, would you like to stay the night?”

Your throat closed in on nothing, choking on air at the proposition before you. A night, at the Red Keep, courtesy of Prince Aemond Targaryen. How many people could say that they’d received such a proposal?

“Oh I couldn’t impose my Prince.” Aemond turned towards the door as you stood still, did you stay still or did he assume you’d follow? “It’s not a problem at all, come Y/n.” You stared at the empty space he’d occupied moments ago before snapping out of the daze and running after him. He had to have recognised you if he knew your name right?

That night was, special, to say the least.

You’d somehow been roped into dinner with Aemond, Helaena, Aegon, Queen Alicent and the twins. Surprisingly, the Queen wasn’t irritated by your presence, rather welcoming.

“I do apologise for you having to see Prince Aegon in such a state. You did not have to aid Prince Aemond in returning him home but you did. The least we could do is grant you safety from the storm outside Y/n/n.” It was one thing for Aemond to know your name, but you’d never met the Queen.

The rain fell heavy and thunderous upon the ground, pelting against the glass windows. You’d always loved storms, the sound of rain and thunder alike brought comfort whereas your mother despised them.

Aemond didn’t mind them either, he thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of the rain against his bare skin. It made him feel alive, so did you.

Whilst you may have only officially met him today, he’d had his eye on you. The first time being at another market with Helaena. She’d had a spurt of energy, and asked if she could view some insects or plants. Alicent thoroughly encouraged the idea of the people seeing Helaena, but of course not without guards.

Aemond said that he was more than enough, but Ser Criston and Ser Arryk came along for extra protection. At the market, Helaena had accidentally dropped a peach onto the floor. Before she had the time to even look at it, you immediately scooped it up before brushing it off, “There, brand new!” Helaena’s smile grew in response to yours, “Thank you.”

“Of course Princess.” With a quick nod and acknowledgment you left her to her own shopping. You didn’t press on or falter in her presence, but treated her normally. Your kindness wasn’t appreciated by others, nor common. At least in Aemonds eye.

Helaena was surprisingly happy afterwards and Aemond definitely noticed, “She was nice no?” He nodded in agreement to his sisters words since he found it better to agree to what she said than listen to her try and justify herself.

Helaena continued to stare at you whilst you negotiated prices with another vendor and she found her feet moving of their own accord towards you. “Hello.” Helaena waited your response as the vendor froze at their presence.

“Hi, are you alright my Princess?” She smiled, “Do you mind escorting me around? I don’t know the vendors too well.”

So you found yourself accompanying the Princess and Prince through the streets, to your surprise and relief it was easy to make conversation with her. She loved to speak about her hobbies whilst you were thoroughly impressed at her knowledge.

You made her feel heard, whereas most people dismissed her easily.

Aemond found you to be refreshing, not scared beyond relief to be meeting and speaking to them but rather calm and collected.

Dinner had been amazing of course, you expected nothing less of the Queen. But you’d hoped to have been leaving by now, your family was surely wondering where you were.

“I’ve already sent a messenger to inform them of your whereabouts. Helaena would like to offer you the position of being a hand maid to her, a companion.”

The room was silent, as you tried to find the words to reply. “That is, unbelievably generous of you to offer Prince Aemond. But I-, I’m not highborn. Why would you offer such a position to me?” Aemond leaned back in his chair and relaxed. Which contrasted the rigid spine you possessed. “Because I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll have to talk to my family—,”

Aemond raised his hand as you stopped talking, you could feel your heart beating. Had you said something wrong? “It’s not an offer or a question. You’ll start tomorrow, your given chambers are where you will reside for tonight. You’ll be moved to be near Helaena tomorrow. Rest now, a maid will collect you tomorrow.”

Working at the Red Keep was coveted in your opinion, there weren’t exactly a robust amount of opportunities for woman amongst Kings Landing. You should be grateful, yes, but the tone Aemond held with you was bone chilling. This wasn’t a proposition, it was a demand. And you were terrified of what could have happened had you not complied.

He swiftly left afterwards, leaving you to reel over the events of the day.

You’d left to get food for your brother’s birthday and were now practically imprisoned within the Red Keep.

The next day had your brain set on overdrive, about a million tons of information was thrown your way. When to wake up, what you’d be wearing, what you’d be doing, who you’d be following in the morning, who’d you be filling in for or relieving and when you were finally able to sleep.

Every other maid stared at you, unaware of the new help. As if it wasn’t uncomfortable enough, the Princess and Prince’s doing and favouritism was clear. On what day would Prince Aemond stop to check in with a hand maiden.

“I’ve heard you’ve been doing well.” Was he always this tall? You didn’t realise until now that you were practically looking up at him. “I hope I have. But I must let you go my Prince, Princess Helaena needs help dressing the Princes and Princess.” Aemond latched into your arm as you stood still again, “There’s no need for the formality Y/n. Helaena already has help, come with me.”

Deja Vu be damned, you found yourself in Aemond’s chambers. “Is there a spill? I can go fetch someone to clean if need be.”

Something about the way he was looking at you made you think that he didn’t need much. You’d seen that look before.

“Have you seen what life is for most here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to work for the rest of your life? Barely see your family?”

Was this a trick question? “I don’t know, it’s an honour to work here Prince Aemond.”

“Aemond. I told you to call me Aemond.”

“I did not mean to offend you, Aemond. But, your station is above me.”

“It doesn’t have to be. If I married you.” You laughed at the notion, but another glance at his deadpan expression had you biting your tongue. “Why would you marry me?”

“Because I can. I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, your family would never have to worry ever again.” If you had a superpower, it’d be the ability to freeze. It was as if your feet were locked in place, unable to move as Aemond approached. His hand grazed your face as you closed your eyes.

“If you mean it, then yes. I would marry you.”

“You will.”

“I will.”

Your parents were overjoyed of course, a common-born daughter marrying a Targaryen prince. It was a rarity for anyone to infiltrate the reigning family without a dragon by your side or a large house and a hefty last name.

The feast was filled with laughter and love, the Smallfolk celebrated themselves, one of them marrying into the royal household.

The Smallfolk’s Princess, you’d heard them say.

But with Aemond’s hand on your back, guiding you? The wide smiles of the Queen, King and Princess weren’t enough to subdue the hollow feeling in your chest. Helaena grinned as she brung you back from the floor, “I’m so glad to have a sister.” She made you genuinely happy, at least someone could provide you solace.

“You look beautiful.” You turned to your Husband, a proud display across his face. “Thank you, Aemond.”

“Husband.”

“Of course, Husband.”

From seeing you for the first time to leading you to his chambers, your chambers, Aemond was relieved.

You were his, now and forever.

[harstyle]

pretty

Summary: Your good friend Harry Styles might just be the hottest, most gentleman-liest guy you‘ve ever laid eyes on, so it really is a shame that you‘re not his type. featuring lotsss of pining, insecurities on both sides and a hefty crying sesh (it‘s all a bit pathetic and cheesy really😭)

Pairing: uni-student!y/n + uni-student!harry

Word Count: 6.2k

—

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?”

He was impossibly close, nose mere inches away from hers, and held this expression that could easily make her cry if only she looked at it long enough. Y/N couldn’t handle the pressure of the moment, his intense eyes on hers. It was something out of a romance movie.

And she was left so speechless that all she could say to him was: “uh, t-thanks. Thanks. You too.” It wasn‘t like she disagreed with him, but the sheer intensity, the closeness with which he delivered his compliment made her weak at the knees.

He smiled at her like he’d known she would cower away and brushed some stray hairs away from her eyes. “James doesn’t deserve you. You know that, right?”

In full transparency, Y/N had forgotten all about James. She’d forgotten the reason for her tears the moment Harry had shown up at her flat to give her that long hug she’d been needing.

The only reason James had stumbled into her life at all was Harry anyway. Call it a distraction, a means to numb the jealousy she felt whenever she saw Harry out with another girl.

“I get it, though. I should’ve known he’d be that way, people warned me before going out with him. That he only takes out cheerleaders. Should’ve known he did it for a laugh.”

Harry was similar to James in that regard— he had a type and everyone knew it. Y/N didn’t fall under his category of ‘girls to date’. She often wondered why she always went for guys who would never even look in her direction— a bit of self hatred, maybe. A will to punish herself.

“Hey, stop that. You’re beautiful. Don’t find excuses for his behavior.”

“I’m not, I just… I should’ve seen it coming, is all.”

“No, what we’re not going to do is blame ourselves for other people’s mistakes. James fucked up. He did. And that’s it. You move on, you come back stronger and show him he didn’t leave even a tiny scratch.”

“You’re right. Of course.”

He smiled, “do you feel better?”

“A bit,” Y/N nodded with a sturdy exhale, “thanks for being there for me always. I really appreciate it.”

“What are best friend for, ey?”

It never felt less unnerving to hear those words coming out of his mouth. And really, she knew that realistically they were nothing more, but sometimes, especially late at night when no one was around and all of her uni stress had been shoved into a closet for the day, Y/N let herself believe it was real. That he liked her back. She needed to get a grip and open her eyes to the cold harsh truth; that a friend was all she would ever be in his eyes.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and averted her eyes towards her interlinked fingers. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

Y/N had long mastered the art of feigning a smile, so it came easily for her to flash her teeth at Harry in this moment.

“Course. Let’s make some dinner, I’m hungry.”

—

“Hey, it’s Y/N right?”

Y/N had seen this girl around before. She remembered because every time she would pass by on campus, Y/N had to admire her beauty; how her makeup always seemed effortless and her clothes complimented her perfect figure in just the right way, how her hair was always in a wave that Y/N could never perfectly recreate and her walk never droopy or tired, perfected by an angelic touch.

Y/N didn’t know this girl, but she’d always wanted to be like her.

“Yeah, hi.” Despite the inherent intimidation, Y/N smiled at her, “can I help you?”

Y/N felt ugly standing in front of her. She’d had to rush out of bed this morning for her analysis class, forgotten mascara and her staple lip balm. She looked monstrously unwell.

“My name’s Iris, I was wondering… god, this is a bit embarrassing, but you’re good friends with Harry, right?”

Y/N saw where this was going off of the jump. It happened way too often for her not to.

And her heart broke just a little more then, because so far, it’d been random girls she’d known stood no chance with Harry. But Iris was just perfectly crafted for him, cookie cutter pretty and impressively confident. She had everything Y/N was still hastily working on.

“Uh, yeah.”

“I was wondering if you could give him my number? I saw him at the party last night and we chatted for a bit, but I forgot to write it down for him.”

Y/N had been at that party too, she just hadn’t seen that. Harry had barely even left her side. Must’ve been when she‘d gone to the bathroom.

“Oh, sure.”

“Great! Thank you so much.”

Iris handed her a little post it with her digits written along with a lovely note about having had a fun time.

Y/N walked to her 8am analysis class with a crucial feeling of hatred for the world and everything in it bubbling in her chest.

—

“Hi, babe.” Harry pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek like it was normal before finding his reserved seat next to her, surprising both her and their friends. If Kacy was all too shocked, though, she didn‘t show it, simply widening her grin in response to Harry‘s presence. “Hi, guys.”

“You finally showed up!” Kacy exclaimed, drawing the attention on him with her loud voice. Harry was so busy that he could be hard to track down, which made him an easy target for the occasional jab. In all fairness, he’d seen Y/N almost every day, just not his other friends— and in full honesty, that had been enough for him.

“Yeah, sorry, finals week.”

“Y/N found the time,” Sebastian chimed in, tone laced with a tinge of earnestness, although Y/N and Harry could tell he was only teasing.

Harry retorted fairly quickly, “cause she has no other social life.”

At Harry’s words Y/N turned her head at him, mouth dropping open in genuine offense. She couldn’t do anything other than laugh, but really she should’ve hit him for saying that. “So you’re a whore and a backstabber!”

Harry cackled, that beautiful laugh escaping his mouth and blessing her ears, pulling her into his side and hugging around her frame. “I’m only joking!”

“Whatever. I’m not speaking to you the rest of the night.”

“Sure. You try that and we’ll see how that works out for you, babe.”

Everyone but them saw what their future could look like if they both stopped being stubborn and admitted their feelings for one another. Even sitting here, Kacy could see the way Y/N’s lips molded into a smile at Harry’s touch and the way he beamed whenever she played into his antics. Their bond was effortless in the way many couples wished theirs to be— it looked so easy for them to mesh together. Their friends knew they could be happy together and it frustrated them to see no progress being done.

By the end of the night, Y/N and Harry were blubbering drunk messes leaving the bar together. Y/N had taken it upon herself to call the uber back to his for the night.

“God, that was sooo fun,” Harry slurred out, “shame they’re closing soon.”

“You should come more often, we do this every week!”

Both Y/N and Harry were all smiles, looking at each other with excitement radiating from their bodies. It’d been long since they’d really let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here with me, you know that?”

Her heart rate plummeted.

Sometimes Harry said things drunk that wouldn’t pass as ‘normal’ when sober. He was close, grinning at her like a puppy in love and spoke with such confidence that Y/N was sure he couldn’t have not meant it.

“I’m happy you’re here, too, H.”

“No, like seriously though. You’re the best person I know.”

Heat rushed to Y/N’s cheeks. He was really testing her waters here.

“Oi, shut it. What do you want from me? Why’re you buttering me up?”

Harry shrugged, “nothin’. You really are. Just accept the compliment.”

“Fine,” Y/N smiled in a bashful manner, “thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Y/N stared at her boots, grinning to herself. Comfortable silence went on for a few short minutes, just the sound of the wind wafting by and quiet, calm breathing. Occasionally a car they looked up to to check it wasn’t their ride.

It was such a nice atmosphere.

Y/N was sure nothing could ruin this night for her. She was so happy, so careless in the way uni had long prohibited her from being. She wanted to exist in her little snug bubble forever, a place to hide from the real world with the person she admired most. She‘d sacrifice anything if she could keep this feeling for a bit longer.

And then, as if the universe disagreed with Y/N‘s pursuit of happiness, a needle set out to burst her bubble.

That needle was Harry, and outside of the bubble, it was cold.

“Can I kiss you?”

The ground beneath her shattered at his words.

Was he… serious?

Because this was her dream. If he‘d been serious, then her dreams had come true in exactly the worst way.

Y/N had wanted a kiss from Harry since they’d become friends all those years ago, but not like this. Not drunk. Not on some stupid impulse. Not when they would wake up and realize it had been a mistake in a few hours. If she’d been willing to risk their relationship because of one shortlived kiss, she would’ve done it a long time ago.

He couldn’t do this to her! He couldn’t do this because to her, this wasn’t just fun. It wasn’t a cute little memory to look back on. Oh remember when we got drunk and kissed? Wasn’t that so funny? No, to her this was more. It was her whole livelihood, the cruxes which her heart depended on. It sounded so ridiculous, but that was what love had done with her.

So although it hurt more than anything she’d ever had to do, Y/N shook her head. Her head barely moved, like her brain was plotting against it as well as her heart, but it did shake just enough to give him an inkling.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He was quiet for a few seconds (although she could feel his eyes burning a hole into her) before eventually retorting with a weakened, “why not?”.

“You’re drunk.”

“Been wanting to for a long time, Y/N.”

“Harry,” she stressed, voice quivering. Her next words came out in a whisper, “shut up.”

This time, he surrendered.

They waited for their uber in complete silence and when it came for them to sleep, Harry chose to stay on the couch instead of sharing the bed with her. Although Y/N was excruciatingly tired, she couldn’t for the life of her close her eyes.

She’d fucked up so badly.

—

Y/N felt slightly out of place as she slid into Harry’s kitchen in the morning. She looked at him already sat at the breakfast table with an array of pastries waiting.

“Hey.”

Harry nodded, “hi, help yourself. Went to the bakery on my run.”

“Thanks,” she murmured quietly, almost to herself. She was too scared to look at him.

“I don’t want it to be awkward between us, so I’ll just cut to the chase: I’m sorry about last night. I know I was drunk and weird and it won’t happen again. You were right.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up just slightly, the sheer surprise evident on her features. He was really bringing it up now!

“… right about…?”

“Bout it not being a good idea. I’ve never… I was really out of it, you know? Wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

Wow. Yes, obviously it would’ve been a mistake, Y/N knew that more than anyone. But his apology did more damage than good. It was like a knife was being pushed through her chest, agonizingly slow as to make it more painful. Harry had confirmed exactly how uninterested he was in trying anything more with her and it just about devastated her. And yes, in all fairness, it was unjust because she’d been the one to reject him last night but a tiny sliver of hope that he would reach out his arms and say ‘I still feel the same, I still want to kiss you!’ had still possessed her delusional mind all night.

“Oh, that. Yeah.”

Harry tried to catch her eyes, “so are we cool?”

“We’re cool.”

Y/N was barely floating now. She didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to exist.

It hurt too much to exist sometimes.

“Y/N?”

She snapped out of it. “Hm? yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. You just reminded me of this girl I met yesterday, Iris,“ her shaking hand slid into her pocket to find the little note she‘d kept stored and handed it to him without making eye contact. Her body was on fire.

“Oh.”

“She wanted me to give you her number, said something about a party where you lot met.”

Y/N watched as realization dawned on him, probably a fleeting memory of Iris now soberly imprinted on his mind. She could imagine all the ways in which he thought about somebody like Iris, somebody who would be so perfect for him.

“Right. Thank you.”

“No problem. I should probably head out to mine and get a few uni things done before I get too lazy.”

Unprompted, Harry ignored her statement. She had a feeling he didn’t even want to hear her. “I didn’t want to text her. Completely forgot about her, actually.”

Y/N couldn’t find the answer as to why.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I didn’t… I don’t really like her like that.”

“Really? Iris was under the impression that… I mean, maybe she’s mistaken, but she told me about your little hangout sesh and it seemed nice, you know?” Harry’s eyes held something a little different— confusion, curiosity and a bit of sadness. It drove Y/N crazy deciphering him. “And Iris seems exactly like the type of girl you’d like.”

Then his eyebrows drew together, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N shrugged, body sinking and slowly becoming one with the chair, “just… pretty, is all.”

“A lot of girls are pretty, Y/N, doesn’t mean I automatically wanna date them when I talk to them once.”

“Yeah, but… Iris is your kind of pretty. She’s confident and I’m sure she’s funny.”

“My kind of pretty? What are you implying?”

“Nothing! Jesus, Harry, I just think Iris would be a good fit for you. She’s your type, is all.”

Harry scoffed like he took offense to Y/N’s reply, “and I’m sure you know exactly what my type is, huh? Cause I’m so surface level that I’m only into the same girl, yeah? What, blonde and tall?”

“Harry, that’s not—“

“Then what do you mean to say by that?”

“I just—“

“You’re boxing me together with that dickhead James!”

“No, Harry, I’m not— and if you would just listen to me, you’d understand that!” Y/N finally broke, raising her voice by a few notches so Harry would hear her over his loud accusations. “I’m not implying to you, by thinking you might be into her, that you’re surface level. I’m just saying, Iris seems like she would be your type because in the past, you’ve gone for girls like her. That isn’t bad, okay? I’m not criticizing, just pointing out. You’re into pretty girls.”

“Prettiness is subjective, Y/N, and what you’re doing right now is putting me in a box. What does that even mean, pretty girls? Clearly you’re implying I only date girls that are conventionally attractive because that’s my definition of pretty.”

“So what if it is? I didn’t say it’s anything bad,” Y/N leaned back in the chair, volume lowering as if she couldn’t argue with that statement. “Everybody’s allowed a type.”

“It’s just… you’re using the word type in a derogatory way.”

“How the fuck am I using the word type in a derogatory way?”

“Sounds like you’re saying I’m some dickhead who only goes off of looks. Only goes for tall blonde girls cause they’re tall blonde girls and not because they’re nice people.”

“When did I say that?!” Y/N was bewildered by this. She hadn’t meant anything bad by it! “I have a type too, you know that! And that’s okay!”

“Oh yeah fucking tell me about your type, Y/N, go on.”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem is that you were just crying about James only dating cheerleaders a week ago and now you’re here putting the same thing on me!” Y/N breathed out in distress, finding less ways of deescalating the situation. “Be honest, then, what do you really think of me?”

“What are you even… I love you, H, I’m your best friend, I would never dream of insulting you. I was just saying that you seem to have a type, which there is nothing with!”

“So then what does pretty mean?”

“Just… pretty, okay? Don’t read too much into it.”

“No, I want to hear it. Describe pretty to me.” The word pretty had been spoken out so many times in such vain, that its meaning had became trivial at best.

“I don’t know, H, Girls like Jess, Angelina, Diana, Elle… which, if you were to write out their characteristics; they’re all blonde, tall, skinny girls. I’m not saying that you go off of looks, but I do think you have preferences, and that’s fine. That’s healthy, even.”

Then he scoffed again, but significantly quieter this time around. “Right, you brought the fucking receipts to the table, didn’t you? Do you usually think so lowly of me everywhere you go?”

It hurt to have this distance between her and Harry. They’d always gotten along so well before, so why did this have to become what it had? It had all come out of nowhere and Y/N didn’t have the strength or the energy to lose the one thing she constantly depended on to be okay.

“I don’t… Harry, I don’t think lowly of you. I just thought that you might like Iris.”

“I’m sure you did then.”

“Harry,” she sighed, “please, I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“I didn’t, got it perfectly clear. So one question though, am I allowed to like brunettes? Or is that too daring?”

“Harry, stop. Why are you being such a dickhead?”

“I’m being a dickhead?”

“Yes, you are.”

“At least I have history with girls for you to come to that conclusion yourself, right? Maybe when you find the courage to actually talk to a guy I’ll be able to find out what your kind of pretty is.”

And it wasn’t meant to be a jab, surely, at least not a terribly painful one, but it hit Y/N stronger than she would have liked. Who was he, making fun of her dating life? This wasn’t the Harry who reassured her after every pathetic bad date, who convinced her that it would be okay if she didn’t find her man straight away as long as she was happy. She’d loved Harry for a year now and there was something so liberating in exploring unknown territory, in partaking in the so called ‘chase’ (maybe somewhat masochistic, liking the torment of the unknown) but that feeling came to a full stop now that it had become clear that Harry didn’t love her back. Before, it had been speculation— now, it was real. And although she’d expected pain, this was cold blooded torture.

Harry didn’t look regretful, but that was because he had no idea what his words actually meant for her. Sometimes she wondered how the people she loved most could hurt her so much as to kick her down to the ground and repeatedly stomp on her lifeless body.

Without a word, Y/N stiffened her shoulders in an attempt to seem stronger and stood up from the table with a low intake of breath.

“Y/N.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” she muttered quietly but defiantly as she slipped on her shoes and opened the door out.

She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she knew anywhere else would suffice better than here.

—

Y/N wasn’t even surprised when she saw Harry and Iris arriving at the party together with the biggest smiles on their faces. Kacy turned to her and widened her eyes, motioning to the couple by the door with a questioning stare. Y/N simply shrugged.

She’d been hurting by herself, cramped away in her flat with a bottle of wine and three boxes of tissues and hoping for a little break when Kacy had asked her out tonight— but here he was, ready to ruin her minute of relief.

“She gave him her number through me last week… guess he finally called her.” Y/N explained, lowering her voice. “We haven’t talked since that morning after the bar.”

Kacy’s eyes widened again, because the last time Y/N had spent so much time away from Harry had been Christmas— and even then, they’d called each other every day.

“Why?”

Y/N simply shook her head, unwilling to elaborate. All Kacy could do was pull her into a tight hug and ask her what she wanted to do next.

“I just…” Y/N’s breaths shook, “I’m so tired, Kace.”

And although Y/N had never brought up the topic of Harry, Kacy knew exactly what she was referring to and her heart broke for her friend.

“Let’s go to one of the bedrooms.”

Y/N gave a stuffy nod and followed as Kacy lead the way upstairs.

Once they sat down, Y/N began to open her mouth. Her arms hugged around her own frame and tears were building in her eyes.

“Talk to me, Y/N. What happened?”

“He… I don’t know, Kace, he just got so mad at me. I was giving him Iris’ number and he said that he didn’t like her. I told him he should probably call her because I think she’d be good for him— I think I said ‘she’s your type’ or something like that, which is a normal thing to say! And then he went ballistic on me.” Y/N sniffed her nose, “I was just trying to be nice. He started accusing me of finding him surface level even though I implied no such thing.“

“Oh, honey,” it was through Kacy’s pitiful expression that Y/N noticed the ugly tears cascading down her swollen cheeks. “I don’t wanna make you feel worse, babe, but that doesn’t sound like Harry. Maybe you worded something wrong? Or he just heard you wrong?”

“No, I tried multiple times to clear it up, but he kept the attitude.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, I said that he likes pretty girls and he said what do you mean pretty girls? and so I described what I thought his type was, which is tall blondes, you know? And I even said that having preferences is healthy and that I don’t mind but he thought I was boxing him in. But don’t you agree? Isn’t that his type?” Kacy took too long to answer, making Y/N grow insecure, “Come on, he only dates tall blondes!”

“That’s not even true, Y/N. What about Vanessa?”

She rolled her eyes, “fine, one tall redhead.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… I think he was offended because he thought you were calling him some kind of jerk who only goes off of looks.”

“But he’s… he’s great, Kace, really, and I love him, but he does always date attractive supermodel type girls. I mean, good for him, but you know? And I don’t at all think I’m ugly, I think I’m pretty, but not his kind of pretty.”

“Okay, but… okay, what were you talking about before the whole Iris thing?”

“It’s a long story,” Y/N groaned, head falling into her hands, “when we were drunk he asked me if he could kiss me. I said no.”

“What?! Why would you say no?”

“Because we were drunk! And then the next morning he said I was right, that it would’ve been a mistake and we would’ve regretted it.”

Kacy’s mouth was kind of wide open, “and then you brought up Iris?”

“Yes, because I needed a change of topic.”

“But right after that he said he didn’t like Iris.”

“Yes.”

“And then you accused him of being surface level and he got mad?”

“Kacy, I literally didn’t! I—“ Y/N stopped defending herself because she knew she couldn’t cheat her way out of it. “Yes, maybe, okay? So what?”

“So he totally loves you.”

At that point Y/N started laughing— a genuine laugh made its way out of her mouth and she started shaking her head. Her laugh simmered down to a little chuckle and then she got tears in her eyes again. It was taxing to have feelings sometimes.

“Right, sure. Hope you stretched before you took that fucking reach! He said right before that he’d never have asked if he was sober.”

“He was saving face because you refused to kiss him.”

“Kacy, no,” she sighed, “don’t feed me that bullshit. You’re going to give me hope and I can’t take any more of that, okay?”

“He got mad you think he only likes blondes because he loves you and you don’t even see it,” Kacy elaborated even further, which bothered Y/N on so many levels.

“I can’t, Kace,” Y/N cried, covering her eyes with her palms and letting the tears flow out, “I’m so fucking tired of feeling unwanted and like I’m not enough. Like whatever I do, there’s still some other girl who gets his attention. I can’t go on loving him and being his second girl every day. He goes on bad sex dates and comes home to me, goes to parties where he does body shots off of other girls, and then cuddles me in bed. I just can’t do it. One day he’ll get married and expect me to be his best man and that’s way more than I can take.”

“Look, I understand, but all you need to do is talk to him.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Isn’t it better to lose him now than to feel like this every day and lose him in a few years when you’ve physically broken yourself down over it? Isn’t it better to know? I know you won’t lose him because I see the way he looks at you and I see how he treats you. And he’d be stupid not to like you back. But if I‘m wrong, wouldn‘t it still be better to know?“

“No. I can do without knowing. If he knows and he doesn’t feel the same it’ll be weird and I can’t lose him. I can’t, Kace, he’s the only thing holding me together. Look at me, I’m such a fucking mess.”

“Y/N, eyes up,” Kacy ordered, taking ahold of Y/N’s forearm and forcing her to look at her, “you’re allowed little moments of weakness. Love does crazy things sometimes. You need to tell him or you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

Y/N’s eyes stung hard.

The door opened in that moment, forcing the sound of the music into the otherwise quiet room with a force. Both girls looked up to find Harry by the door, his eyebrows drawn together in concern at the sight of his teary eyed best friend. It didn’t matter what they were going through, their bond was strong enough for him to know something was seriously wrong.

“Are you okay?”

It was then that Kacy took her cue to leave, to Y/N’s dismay, and stood up from the chair to let Harry take her place. She closed the door behind her to give the two of them privacy.

“Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she tried to smile, though due to the tears it was clear as day that she was perpetually telling him lies whenever he asked her that question. “I’m okay.”

���Hey, come on,” he whispered into the quiet, inching closer to trap her chin between his fingers, “tell me what’s wrong. Did some asshole hurt you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a small sniffle. The asshole is you. “I’m just… having boy trouble. It’s okay. You should go back to the party.”

“Fuck the party. Who hurt you? Do you want me to go beat him up? Did he touch you?” He’d started raking over her body to check for bruises, a tick in his jaw.

“No! God, no, I’ll get over it.” I couldn’t ever get over you. “Isn’t Iris waiting for you? I saw you arrive together.”

“Oh,” his features hardened for a split second. Y/N blinked and it was gone. “No, we ran into each other outside and talked for a bit. She asked me out, so… I think I’m going to go.”

It was like he was testing her, staring into her eyes to capture the exact moment she crumbled. But she didn’t. She held her head high and gave a subtle nod. “Sounds good.”

He sighed. It was quiet and could almost be classified as a simple exhale, but she knew it wasn’t.

“So who’s the guy?”

Sometimes he could be so oblivious that Y/N wondered how he’d made it so far in life. Surely he was only playing the part, right?

“Doesn’t matter,” Y/N shrugged. She was starting to cry again. “He’s insignificant.” You could never be insignificant to me.

“Should I talk to him?”

Yeah, that would be good. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just… get over him.”

“Well I don’t like seeing you hurt, baby,” he tilted his head, cupping over her jaw and brushing over her skin delicately. The room was dimly lit to make it all the more romantic, but Y/N couldn’t fully be immersed in it. “No guy is worth your tears. You’re beautiful and brave and so so funny. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Y/N. You’re the most perfect girl there ever was and if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

He couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t speak of her the way she always wished he would speak of her, but not mean it. It showed her what he was capable of— loving her, paying her attention the right way. She was left shattered.

“See, you say that, but you…” Y/N broke down in tears, “but nobody ever means it.”

He tilted her head up so he could stare deeply into her eyes and utter his next words in full honesty, “I mean it. I promise you, Y/N, I mean what I said with everything I have in my body. I mean it every time I say it when I’m drunk and I mean it when I’m sober. I mean it when you’ve just woken up and I mean it when we’re studying together at night. I mean it and I will always mean it.”

Instead of making her happy, his words made her cry even more.

“Harry,” she cried, bending her neck forward so the top of her head rested on his chin, “it hurts so much.”

“Come on, baby, it’s not worth it.” Then he started kissing the crown of her head, moving down to her temple and rubbing circles into her shoulders. “It’s not worth it.”

But he was worth it. He clouded her vision and made her feel lightheaded. He had the power to make her cry and the power to make her so unbelievably happy that she couldn’t imagine having ever been unhappy. He made her wonder how she could’ve lived such a mediocre, painful life before he’d entered it— that was the kind of power he possessed.

Y/N didn’t have to think twice about kissing him, she just did. She looked up at Harry and inched closer to rest her lips on his, and it caused emotions in her body she didn’t even know were possible. Harry seemed surprised but he caught on fairly quickly, letting her take the lead in the kiss until it’d been a few seconds and he felt her deepening it.

He pulled away, eyes finally opening.

She was startled. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

He shook his head gently, letting a reassuring smile sit on his lips, “no, but I’m worried about you. I don’t think it’s a good idea to do this when you’re crying over another guy, you know? I don’t want to be your numbing medication.”

“You’re… not,” her eyebrows drew together.

“You didn’t want to kiss me last week. It’s seeming like an ‘I miss another guy so I’ll hook up with you to numb the pain’ situation and I just… I don’t want either of us to regret it.”

He was trying to be nice— and he was, really was, but the sinking feeling in Y/N’s stomach worsened.

“That’s because we were drunk last week.”

“You’re hurting over another person, Y/N.”

“He’s not important, I just want to kiss you. I want to mess around with you. Okay? Because I want to, not because I’m into some other dickhead.”

Harry seemed to have trouble believing her, “I can’t.”

“Okay, whatever. It’s fine.” Y/N stood up from her chair, creating some distance between her and Harry and started walking away from him. He held onto her hand though, preventing her from moving too far.

“Y/N, come on.”

“No, genuinely, I don’t want to coerce you into having sex with me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She was being honest. She didn’t want Harry to feel like she was using him under false pretenses.

But having him think that was still better than confessing.

“I didn’t think you were coercing me into doing anything, Y/N, I just don’t want you to regret it.”

“Yeah,” tears built in her eyes again and she bit her lip to hold them in, “you’re a really good guy, Harry.”

When he stood up to offer her comfort, she immediately took a step back and held her hand in front of her in an effort to force him away. “Please don’t.”

“Y/N…” He looked pained and thoroughly confused at her cold behavior. Harry knew she tended to close off whenever she felt bad about herself, but that had applied mostly to other people. Harry, on the other hand, had always been successful in finding a way to pull back her in.

“No, I’m embarrassed. Jesus, I’m such a mess! I was talking about this with Kacy, I‘m just… I‘m all over the place.”

“You’re not a mess. You’re hurting, that’s normal.”

“I just asked you to fuck me, that’s… who the fuck does that? Since when am I like this?”

“Since you’ve been hurt,” he countered, “love makes you do weird things. God knows I get a bit crazy too when I’m in love.”

“No you don’t,” she said to him, voice hoarse and uncomfortable, “you’re fucking Mr. Perfect. Everyone loves you and you’re hot and you’ve got the brilliant mind. You can’t do anything wrong.”

“Everyone doesn’t love me,” he replied with a leveled tone, “if everyone loved me, I’d be with the girl of my dreams right now. But I’m not, so… not everyone.”

“Can’t fucking imagine that,” Y/N muttered, wiping under her eyes. “You probably just communicate badly and she doesn’t know you love her.”

“Same with you.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

“He’s way out of my league.”

“Who is this guy anyway? You’re gonna hype him up to me and not even let me know who it is?”

“He’s, uh…” Y/N walked further away from him and sat down at the edge of the bed, covering her face with her hands, “he’s from uni. Tall, dark brown hair, green eyes, sometimes glasses. He’s really nice but dates girls who are the complete opposite of me. And I just… whenever I look in the mirror, I’m reminded of just how… unattractive I am compared to them— and don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with me but they’re just better. I can’t keep up with it. And god, I feel so pathetic talking about myself like this but he’s just… he‘s so perfect and I love him and I don’t want to lose him. He makes me doubt myself sometimes, you know?“

At the latest he must’ve known now. Y/N could hear his brain professing that information, double and triple checking all possibilities until it dawned on him that she was talking about him.

He cleared his throat, stepping closer. “So he’s… where do you know him from again?”

A short pause before committing to the method, “we met at the fresher’s party three years ago.”

“And you see each other a lot, I assume.”

Y/N was still not looking at him, head buried in her hands.

“We… yeah. We hang out every day. He’s mad at me right now though.”

“So you… you love me.”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. She’d given up, left it all to fate; if he would turn her away and never talk to her again or ask to continue being friends. It all became obsolete.

“I’m sorry,” she muffled into the palms of her hands.

“D’you wanna hear about the girl I’m in love with? Have been in love with for a year now?” Y/N wanted to shake her head, but she didn’t, so he continued. “She’s from uni too, spends about three nights a week at my flat even though hers is bigger. She can be really distant, but when she gives you attention it’s like the whole world healed. She’s so sweet and considerate and brings me little gifts sometimes and even though she’s damn near perfect, she gets really insecure about things, especially when it comes to her looks and stupid dicks.” Y/N had started looking up at his words, spotting Harry closer to her but not sharing any of her own emotions. He was taking the piss, wasn‘t he? “Locks herself away in her room until she feels ready to leave the flat. She’s selfless, gives me other girls’ numbers even though she’s in love with me— even makes me go on dates even though I’m sure it hurts her feelings whenever I do.”

“You love me?” she sniffled, “I’m not joking about this.”

“I love you, Y/N. I do. S’why I got so mad last week, wanted you to realize that I’m more than some shallow asshole. Didn’t know you felt the same, though.”

“How could you not? I literally get so weird around you these days.”

“Thought it was just stress or something,” he cupped her cheek, thumbing away some tears, “I’m sorry you cried about me, should’ve just said it like a normal person. Just didn’t want to ruin us.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

This kiss was a thousand times better than the last one. Y/N felt giddy as his lips ghosted over hers, as he pulled her up from her seat and sat back down to have her climb over his lap. She breathed into his mouth, ground against his crotch like she was a horny 16 year old girl being touched for the first time. There was no heavy feeling weighing down on her chest, she could just be free of concerns.

After a few minutes of making out, Y/N laughed. She damn near cackled into his mouth and when he questioned her with a confused stare and a cute laugh of his own, she shook her head.

“Remind me to thank Kacy later.”

—

disclaimer: this is NOT meant to offend anyone based on their looks— it‘s just a depiction of a girl feeling insecure because she thinks the guy she loves doesn’t see her the way she wants him to. The description i used of his ‘type’ and the inevitable perception of what Y/N looks like in this story was completely random and is completely up to you. I hope it doesn’t come across as anything other than that!

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING BIG !!! TOTO W. X FEM!READER

summary: she was too good for him, and he was just a perfect fit.

content warning: smut content (minors dni!), explicit language, pwp, size kink, creampie, praise kink, beta reading what is that we rawdog our writing in here

note: just reached 400+ notes on the max verstappen one… we all need to touch some grass. enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

send your 💌re:moony’s planner requests here!

this wasn’t the first time she found herself in such a compromising position: her back against the mattress, her body folded in half and her legs hanging over his shoulders while his cock repeatedly speared her insides. this wasn’t the first time, but his size always made their encounters feel like it.

she didn’t complain; instead, she begged for more. she wanted to feel all of him and who was he to deny such a pretty plea?

“f- fuck,” she stammered, her mouth opening slightly as she gasped, “h- s’good. so, so good… fuck!”

toto’s 6’5 being hadn’t helped the intimidation that she normally felt, either. six months into the relationship and she still felt intimidated by his aura.

he didn’t want her to feel that way. in those days when cameras and other people weren’t around, he showered her with affection and adoration. he showed her a side that most people wouldn’t have a chance to see; one that she loved the most.

but there were times when she just wanted him to ruin her. much like now.

toto groaned in satisfaction, his hands keeping a tight hold on her ass while his cock continued to split her body. she was so light for him that he hadn’t realized her hips were lifted off the mattress. “fucking hell. you’re doing so well for me, schatzi.”

his hand took her smaller one and brought it down to her lower stomach, his hips snapping against hers as her lower stomach bulged. “d’ya feel that, schatz?”

“i- mh- hm~” she cried out, whimpering at the thought that it was him— that was an imprint of him inside her. that her body was being imprinted and fucked by his cock— one that she thought wouldn’t fit inside her.

yet he did. he fit perfectly well and he continued to be the only person who’d ever fit so well inside her.

“so fucking good for me, schatz,” he growled, his hand now reaching down to rub her clit vigorously as her mouth let out a squeak. “letting me fuck you like this— like a good girl you are. such a perfect girl with a perfect pussy…”

“ngh~ toto,” she whined, squirming against him as his fingers moved in circles on her clit, “s’good… please!” her body remained folding in half, her cunt splitting as he thrusted. her stomach fluttered at the feeling of an incoming orgasm, her body shaking as her walls clenched around his cock.

“gonna cum in you,” he groaned, his hips pistoning against hers. “gonna fuck you full of my cum— fuck, schatz. gonna make sure you’re filled to the brim with my cum— fuck!”

his hips stuttered as he let out a moan, feeling her come around him while she cried out in pleasure. her mind felt hazy, only thinking about the oversensitivity that she felt as her vision turned white.

she almost whimpered at the emptiness when he pulled out slowly, her body limping to the bed as she tried to keep her eyes open, but her mind eventually gave up as she kept her eyes closed.

toto sighed, looking down at his handiwork as he watched the mixture of his and her pleasure leaking out of her glistening cunt. so fucking perfect.

he smiled to himself, eventually finding himself lying next to her. pulling her closer, he leaned down to press a kiss on her hair before murmuring, “you did so good for me.”

of course she did. nobody could handle him and his figure more than she did. nobody could handle his desire and lust like she did, and was he ever thankful for that.

[lordprettyflackotara]

get him back! || sam golbach

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ tw: revenge sex, marking, choking

You were the finest woman Sam had ever seen.

Being in the influencer space meant meeting a lot of people. Most of them forgettable. But you? Your eyes were sparkling with diamonds, full of life. Your lips were glossy and soft, always curved upwards in a big grin. Sam could remember the first time you two had met, that being a few years prior at a music festival. You both didn’t have too long to speak, both of you too busy to comprehend. You did take a picture with him though, the image sending the internet into a frenzy. Even now he’d look at it and regret not shooting his shot. You were in your own lane, your clothing line producing so much revenue that you were now starting a make up branch as well. You were everything Sam could possibly want: ambitious, enchantingly beautiful, witty, and just as goofy as he was.

Sam thought he had lost his chance. You began dating another influencer, the two of you together for years. The blonde stared over the rim of his red solo cup, admiring you from a far. But your relationship tragically crashed and burned a couple of weeks ago, igniting a spark of excitement in his chest. He watched as you danced with your friends, still maintaining your signature smile. His chance was now and he had zero intentions of fucking up this time.

Sam was thankful that Colby was off actually mingling, because Sam’s needs and wants were scrambled. Realistically he needed to be mingling with potential business partners or creators to collab with. But he convinced himself that pursuing you technically fit into that category. Even if you were just one person in a big party. He slithered through the sea of dancing bodies, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. You turned around, a red solo cup in your hand. You smiled at the sight of Sam, beginning to greet him. Just as you did so you were roughly shoved, causing you to be pushed into him. You cringed in horror at the sight of your liquor staining Sam’s white button up.

“Holy fuck i’m so sorry,” You rambled, desperately searching for a napkin. Sam chuckled as the cool liquid soaked against his chest. “It’s fine really,” He said cooly. You were failing to find any sort of napkin. “It’s going to stain if we don’t clean it, come on,” You say, grabbing his hand. Sam tried to remain as cool as a cucumber as you dragged him to the staircase. He wasn’t sure how good he was doing, pretending to be unfazed and not jittery like he was on the inside. Your heels clicked against the wooden stairs as you hauled up to the closest bathroom. Out of the corner of his eye Sam swore he thought he saw camera flashes pointing in both of your guys direction, eventually dismissing it as him being a few shots deep. You found an empty bathroom, grabbing the towel from the towel rack. It was pure white, similar to Sam’s shirt. “It’s alright you’re gonna stain the towel,” The blonde said, trying to convince you.

If he was being truthful he was so glad someone bumped into you. It gave him the perfect opportunity to be alone with you. “Fuck the towel, i’m sure it’s owner can afford many more just like it,” You grumbled. You felt guilty about tarnishing Sam’s shirt, the pigment staining the fabric. “I really am sorry,” You repeated. Sam slowly grabbed your wrist, guiding you to stop. “Seriously it’s fine. Adds character to the outfit I think,” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. Your cheeks were flushed from embarrassment and intoxication, your lips in a thin line. You were determined to fix his shirt, even if it were physically impossible. Sam propped himself up against the bathroom counter, watching you meticulously try to dab away the stain. “So, I haven’t seen you in a while. How have things been?” He asked, trying to switch the subject. Anything he could say or do to keep you around longer he would. Your eyebrows knitted as you avoided his intimidating gaze. “Oh cmon, you can ask me about it,” You say. Sam raised an eyebrow of his own, admiring your beauty.

“Ask what?”

You rolled your eyes sassily, grabbing the bathroom door and shutting it. “About my breakup? It’s all anyone can ask me about anymore. As if I didn’t exist before him,” You grumbled sourly. Sam had to make a quick decision, one that would result in you staying in that tiny bathroom with him. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone,” Sam lied. He noticed your lips curl up into a half smile. Even if it was a lie, you were happy someone wasn’t shoving you in the same box with your ex. “Believe it or not that’s the best thing i’ve heard all night. He was quite the dickhead,” You explained. You ran the washcloth under some water, before resuming your assault on the stain. Sam felt his phone buzzing in his pocket, causing him to glance at it. “Oh shit,” He mumbled. Someone had in fact taken a video of the two of you heading upstairs. Your gaze fell on his phone, the video circulating around twitter.

“It looks like we’re going to fuck,” You mumbled. You refrained from physically face palming, opting to sigh instead. “I can clear things up if you want, I don’t wanna cause trouble for you and your ex,” Sam started, beginning to craft a tweet. At the sound of his words your eyes lit up, a light bulb turning on over your head. “You’re a genius!” You gasped, causing Sam to stop typing. He raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “My ex is a literal scumbag. If it looks like i’ve already moved on it’ll be the perfect revenge,” You explained. Sam erased his tweet, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He found his heart racing as you both stood so close to one another. “You know we could make it look more real, if you wanted to,” Sam offered. The words left his lips effortlessly, the blonde trying to refrain from blushing. The room suddenly became full of nervousness, heat rising to your own cheeks.

“How do you propose we do that?”

“Hickies are kind of a statement.”

There was a pregnant pause, one that made Sam suddenly feel uneasy. “Thats if you want to of course i’d absolutely never try to pressure you or anything-” He rambled, your giggling making him pause. You playfully hit his arm, tossing the rag aside. “Yeah yeah yeah, you modest gentleman. Now turn your head,” You giggled. Sam could feel that he was visibly flustered, the blonde tilting his head to the side. He sat on the cool marble counter, man spreading to allow you access to his skin. You stood in between his legs, your heels providing you just enough height to reach his neck. Logic told you to question giving hickies to a practical stranger in a random bathroom. Yet as you hovered over his skin you could see him swallow nervously, it made you more flustered than you would’ve liked to admit. You kissed his neck softly at first, before gently beginning to suck on the skin. Sam closed his eyes, trying his hardest to control his impending boner.

He wasn’t sure how far you wanted to go with this. He bit his bottom lip, trying his hardest to not get hard as you littered his neck with blues and purples. Sam realized it was too late once you released his skin with a pop, both of your gazes falling onto his visible boner. Your curious eyes met his.

“My turn?”

“Your turn.”

Sam wanted to make you just as flustered as you made him. He jumped off of the counter, pressing your back against the bathroom door. You gasped under his warm touch, melting under him as he tilted your head to the side. He placed soft kisses up your neck, before finally finding your sweet spot. He sucked harshly at the sensitive skin, noting the way your hands grabbed at his shirt to balance yourself. Sam could feel the way you were shaking under his touch, his teeth grazing your skin. He moved onto the next section, wedging his knee in between your legs. It was then as he reattached his mouth to your skin, he heard you whimper. Sam froze, before lifting his knee higher to see what you would do. He felt sheer delight as you whimpered again, this time his name falling off of your lips. Sam grinned into your skin, noting the way you melted as his large hands grabbed your waist.

“You seem like you haven’t been pleased properly in a long time if you’re wet from this,” Sam chuckled. You couldn’t deny how flustered you felt, but refused to cave in so easily. “I’m not wet,” You denied. Sam lifted up your dress in a swift motion, cupping your cunt. You were soaked through your panties. “If this isn’t you wet i’d love to see what that actually looks like,” Sam purred. You whined as he applied pressure over your clothed clit. “If we do this I don’t want any strings attached. No emotional bullshit,” You say, feeling breathless as Sam began to rub your slit properly. Sam grinned as he leaned back, meeting your flustered gaze. “No emotional bullshit guaranteed. Just pray you don’t fall in love with me,” He gloated. You rolled your eyes as he flipped you around, positioning you to lean over the bathroom sink. “Yeah right, I don’t do love anymore,” You countered. Sam grinded against you, causing you to whine in desperation.

“You will by the time i’m done with you,” He quipped. He pulled your panties down, grinning at the sight of your soaked folds. “Jesus baby, do you even need foreplay? You’re so wet for me and i’ve barely touched you,” Sam murmured to himself. He brought one hand around to your clit, rubbing circles around the bud as he undid his pants. He wanted to savor the moment really, but he couldn’t imagine this going more perfectly than it was. “I’m not that wet,” You argued weakly. You didn’t even know what you were really arguing for, your body tattle telling on your lies. Sam brought his cock to your aching slick, rubbing it up and down your folds. “Oh really? So I won’t be able to slide right in or anything, right?” He asked sarcastically. You gripped the sides of the sink as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls eagerly accepting him. He bit his bottom lip as he glanced up at you in the mirror. Your face was flushed, your beautiful lips parted as you struggled to maintain any form of composure.

“Something tells me you haven’t had a good fuck in a long time,” Sam concluded, bottoming out. His fingers continued to work on your clit as his cock brushed against your g spot. “Perhaps you’re right,” You admitted lowly. Sam wrapped his arm around you, grabbing your throat. His slender fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing the skin as he forced you to arch your back. “I say we change that, hmm?” He asked teasingly. It was then he began to move his hips, the sound of skin against skin and unholy moans clouding up the room. Sam watched in the mirror as your eyes glazed over with lust with each thrust. Through his fingers he was able to admire the hickies he had littered on your skin, as well as the ones on his own. His thrust were fast and deep, abusing your cunt the way he knew you needed. Strings of curses left your lips, the blonde delivering a sharp slap to your ass. You gasped at the stinging sensation, the pain colliding with pleasure. “Moan my name baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel so good,” He ordered.

Sam relished in the sound of your obedience, his name falling off of your lips like a mantra. If the video and hickies didn’t seal your revenge, your shameless moans did. Sam didn’t stop his circles around your clit or his thrust, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you both approached your highs. “So fuckin tight,” Sam grunted. He squeezed your throat, restricting your airway. You felt hopelessly light headed as he pounded into you, your knees threatening to give out. “You can take it baby, I know you can. So good for me,” Sam purred. He nibbled on your earlobe as he pinched your clit, causing your orgasm to crash down over you. His strong hands kept you upright as you touched euphoria, your senses temporarily blinded. “Where do you want me baby?” Sam asked, his voice rough as he fucked you through your orgasm. You were breathless as you tried to get your vision to settle. “My mouth, let me taste you,” You panted.

Sam was quick to force you to your knees. Your knees roughly hit the tiled floor as your tongue flattened out across your bottom lip. You stared up at Sam as he jerked his cock, your name falling off of his lips as he painted your tongue white. His salty cum was warm and tasty, Sam watching in pure awe as you swallowed it. You attached your lips to his tip, ensuring to suck him clean. “You dirty bitch,” Sam groaned, tilting his head back. He leaned against the wall for support as you overstimulated him. When you finally released him with a pop the two of you shared a loving gaze. He kneeled down to your level, tilting your head to the side. A patch of unmarked skin stuck out to him.

“Looks like I missed a spot, let me fix that for you.”

[austinrrylover]

LOVE ISLAND - NICHOLAS CHAVEZ

summary: francesca works on a film set, which stars nicholas chavez. after meeting in a very spontaneous way, francesca gets the job of being his assistant for the shoot

warnings: MDNI, nsfw, slow burn, smut at the end (it’s worth it, i promise)

—

‘Get me her! The blonde one!’ Ariana said with a strict expression as she pointed in my direction.

I only saw her pointing at me from afar but I heard when she said it. She wants me? A brunette gentleman in a gray sweatshirt and trousers comes closer to me as I just stand trying not to look at him directly and just analyze the call sheet I already know from front to back.

‘So, hi, Ari wants you to be her assistant today. The other girl dropped out, fired. Okay?’ He asks and I look at her.

Ariana is so intimidating I have heard all the stories of how easy it is for her to fire people over stupid mistakes. But hey, this is what this industry is about and I have been waiting to step up my game.

‘Of course.’ I say smiling.

‘Okay. Put a sweater on you have to go out to the trailers with her.’ He says and I quickly rush over to the chair I put my jumper on.

I was wearing simple blue jeans and a white dress shirt, which was now covered by an oversized gray hoodie.

Ariana waved at me, her expression not changing from her usual stern face. I swiftly try to catch up to her.

‘I am going to go meet the AD, you stay here and wait for everybody’s cars to arrive.’ She says as we exit the big studio door.

People are already deep in work, gaffers fixing lights, the camera is already set up. A woman with a big suitcase comes up to me.

‘Hi, make-up for Miss Coleman. Where do I find her trailer?’ She asks me.

‘Uhm…’ I look around and see the trailers.

‘Come with me.’ She follows me and I come across the trailers.

On each door there are different names. ‘Mr. Waltz’ ‘Mr. Butler’ ‘Mr. Chavez’ ‘Ms. Coleman’ I stop.

‘Here it is. I don’t believe she has arrived yet.’ I smile and she gets in the trailer.

People just keep coming and coming when I see Ariana running toward me with a keycard.

‘Road’s closed on the 6th. Four actors are going to be coming from the back entrance, the 2nd. Go over there with the cart and pick them up, thanks.’ She hands me the keycard and the key for the cart.

She turns away and starts running as a big Range Rover arrives.

‘And get them in make-up!’ She shouts as I see the director quickly getting out of the car and Ariana running to him.

Cart. I check the time: 7:56. I quickly get on it and I follow the signs which point to the 3rd enterance. Or was it the second? Shit. I look at the keycard.

‘Opening 1-2-3rd enterance.’

‘Fuck’ I say under my breath.

Third fucking day and I already fuck it up. I usually handle really small PA jobs here and on other films, where people need me as a helping hand, bringing them coffee or help around on the set but now when I actually have something important to do I fuck it up.

I reach gate number three. 7:59. The actors should be arriving at 8. Nobody is here. Am I at the right enterance? I look around trying to determine if I am at the right place when I see a big black car rushing in front of the gate. It doesn’t stop and just goes behind a building so I can’t see, but it is enough for me to notice that I am at the wrong gate. I try pushing the gas in as much as I can on this awfully safe and slow cart to reach the 2nd gate.

When I get there the driver is already out of the car, trying to open the gate with his keycard which is obviously not working, since he has one for the main entrance.

‘I’m here! I’m here!’ I shout as I get off from the cart.

‘I’m not getting fired for you not getting here on time. I was here at 8:00, I just couldn’t get in. Make sure to tell your supervisor. Faszomba.’ He angrily says with his hungarian accent and I sigh.

‘My fault. Sorry. I’m supposed to take them from here. Whose driver are you?’ I ask.

‘Nic.’ He answers and I take a sharp breath.

Nicholas Chavez. Fuck. I try to say something when he gets out of the car, his brunette hair messy on his head, little curls forming where his sunglasses are pushed onto his forehead. He has a bunch of papers in his hand and was wearing a simple black zipup with black jeans. He was breathtaking to say at least.

‘Thanks Robert.’ He smiles and pats him on the shoulder as I open the gate with my keycard. He looks at me.

‘I don’t believe we have met.’ He extends his hand.

‘No, I am Francesca.’ I say and take his hand.

‘Nicholas. Are you PA?’ He asks.

‘Yes.’ I smile and I slowly start walking to the cart.

‘We have to wait for the others. Or do you want to go?’ I ask. What a stupid fucking question. He is busy, why would he want to fucking wait around.

‘No sorry, you must be busy and all that make-up, I will take you’ I get into the cart.

‘You think I need that much make-up?’ He smiles. God his smile. It’s so flirty but so innocent at the same time.

‘No, I mean, no, your character and—‘

‘I’m messing with you. It’s okay. We can wait.’ He smiles and opens up the script in his hand.

‘Do you want me to run lines with you?’ I ask and god why can’t I shut up?

‘No thank you, I’m okay.’ He smiles reassuringly and I look away awkwardly.

‘First day?’ He looks up.

‘No actually, third. Here. I worked on other films.’ I say.

‘Are you from Hungary?’ He asks me.

‘No, I’m from Italy but we moved here when I was 10.’ I explain. Is he talking to me just because he is trying to be nice?

‘That’s great. I love Budapest. Italy too.’ He smiles and I smile back.

We sit in silence and after a few seconds he looks back to his script. I keep looking back and forth between him and the enterance, why aren’t they coming?

8:14

Ariana is going to kick my ass. The main actors are nowhere to be found and one of them I’m basically holding hostage on this fucking cart. I nervously look at my phone. 8:15. Fuck me. 15 minutes late on a film set is a nightmare.

‘Maybe we should go.’ Nicholas looks at me and gets into the passenger seat of the cart.

‘Okay, I’m going to take you and then I’ll come back.’ I say while taking a deep breath and getting in to the driver seat.

‘Relax, Francesca. It’s okay.’ He reassures me with the biggest smirk on his face. Does he think my frustration is funny?

‘They can fire me. Not that it’s any of your fault I’m just saying.’ I mumble.

‘They can fire me too.’ I huff loudly. Him? Are you kidding me?

How would they fire him? Never in a million years would happen.

‘What, they really can.’ He smiles and I start the cart.

‘I can imagine.’ I say, boldly. Are we bonding?

‘Or I could just say this cute PA didn’t get me to my make-up in time.’ He smiles at me, as I see from the corner of my eye.

I blush and my brain goes through hundreds of possible scenarios all at once as to what should I reply to him. He notices my frustration and chuckles…I don’t know if it’s a polite chuckle or a real one but I’ll take it.

‘Do you know if my assistant is already there?’ He asks.

‘No.’ I say as I start the engine and I turn the wheel to turn around.

The route is kind of embarrassing, he is just looking around, but I don’t dare to form a word, what if he wants to be left alone? But what if he wants me to talk to him? Fuck.

‘Do-‘ I start as my phone suddenly rings. I take it from my pocket. ‘Ariana Dern’. Fuck. I put it on speakerphone.

‘Hi!’

‘Where the fuck are you?’ I suddenly regret putting it on speakerphone as Nicholas turns his head toward the phone with wide eyes.

‘I am bringing Mr. Chavez to the set.’

‘And the others?’ She asks and I stutter.

‘They… only the driver of Mr. Chavez came, but I’m going to go back and try…’

‘No, come here, bring him and then get off that thing. We need you here. Stage 4.’ She says and hangs up.

‘Sorry. You know how producers are.’ I smile.

‘What were you going to ask?’ He looks at me.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘What were you going to ask me?’ He asks again, patiently, slowly.

‘Oh… just… I don’t remember.’ Fuck.

‘Oh ok. Well give me a heads up if you do.’ He smiles as we arrive to the set.

We stop and he gets off the cart. Ariana is running towards us.

‘Mr. Chavez, Nicholas, hi, your trailer is just there, ready for makeup!’ She smiles and shoves like three hundred pages of paper in my hands.

‘Bring this to the gaffers.’ She whispers to me. I look at her, and then Nicholas.

‘Now.’ She says again and I smile at Nicholas before leaving.

‘Bye.’ I say shyly.

‘Bye Francesca.’ He says loud enough, for sure everybody around us heard it.

We lock eyes one last time as he makes his way towards his trailer, Ariana pushing on his back softly. He looks at me and smirks. Or I just imagine that, I honestly don’t know.

With his last gaze, Ariana looks back at me too, shooting me a stern look which makes me remember the dozens of paper in my hand.

I go into the set that is already built, shouts of ‘Lights on!’ coming from all directions. People rushing from place to place and electricians writing notes. I look at the papers in my hand and search for a gaffer to give this to.

‘The DOP wants this?’ An older man asks me as he looks at the paper in my hand.

‘I guess so.’ I say, I have no idea.

‘Then get him here, if you are not sure.’ He scolds me.

I nod and I start going back towards the trailers. I need to find Ariana because this is way above my expertise. I see the director again, he is wearing glasses and is talking to one of the actors.

‘You!’ I hear Ariana’s voice. ‘Your name?’

‘Francesca.’ I say.

‘Okay, from this moment you are cast PA. Don’t bother with anything else. These fucking incompetent bitches can’t show up in time. If they come, tell all of them that they are fired, understood?’ She asks.

‘Yes, the gaffers need the DOP, right now. Any idea where I can find him?’ I ask with a smile.

She waves her hands in front of my face.

‘Did you hear anything I just said? Don’t bother with it. Go! You are going to help Mr. Chavez and Mr. Waltz. Mr. Waltz has his own assistant team so you’ll probably just need to arrange his make up and lunch for him. The young kid, you go and ask him what he needs, okay?’ She rolls her eyes and goes right past me.

I nod to myself and I go to the trailer Nicholas was going into before.

I knock and I enter. Nicholas is getting his makeup done, two girls are doing a big scar onto his forehead.

‘Francesca!’ He says jokingly.

I smile and I step closer.

‘Do you need anything?’ I ask.

‘Nothing, darling, what time do I need to be on set?’ He asks me.

I’m slightly taken aback by his overly flirty name but I try to not have a huge reaction to it.

‘Thirty minutes.’ I say as I look at the call sheet on my phone.

‘Thank you.’ He says.

It’s only 9, and it already feels like a whole day has passed.

The rest of the day went fast though. Nicholas had scenes from 9 till 1 and then I arranged his lunch, but had to be on my way for Mr. Waltz who also needed his schedule. After that, Mr. Waltz had scenes from 1 till 5 and Nicholas once again from 6 till 9.

I’m amazed how these actors put their body and soul into these roles and how the director guides them perfectly. It has always been a big dream of mine to be a director or a writer and I can’t believe my hard work is starting to pay off.

After the first day I helped Ariana with some paperwork and got on the bus to get home. I knew I had to be up at five so I went to bed as soon as I could.

The next day went the same as this one. In the morning I went to get Mr. Waltz and helped him with getting the call sheet and organising his lunch. Nicholas didn’t have any scenes today.

I tried to make friends today because I had less to do with one person less to take care of.

The next day Nicholas came bright and early, the crew wasn’t even here yet.

‘I need to talk to the director.’ He said as I was sitting in his trailer when he changed into his costume.

‘About the shirt?’ The costume designer girl asked.

‘Yes, can someone get him?’ He asked politely.

‘He is not here yet, but I’ll tell you when he is.’ I said.

He smiled which I could take out as a bit of an annoyance, like he was impatient.

The costume designers slowly got out of his trailer and I followed them outside before he stopped me.

‘Can I have a word?’ He asked and I came back inside.

‘Yes?’

‘Do you know the director?’ He asked, sitting down on the couch.

‘Yeah, I have seen him around but haven’t talked to him.’ I say and we fall into silence.

‘I think he regrets casting me.’ He sighs. I look at him with wide eyes. Why would he think that? I sit down next to him.

‘Why would you think that?’ I ask when I know if he thinks that the director failed at his job. The director’s most important task is to make the actors feel comfortable.

‘He doesn’t really give me any criticism. He just says okay to everything. I- I don’t know.’ He says and this sudden vulnerability makes me realise how hard it must be for him to away from all his family and friends, all alone in this new country.

‘I’m sorry, it’s not like you can do anything about it, never mind.’ He is avoiding looking me in the eye.

‘No- no, you can tell me. I- seriously think you are doing an amazing job but maybe he is just intimidated to give you advice, you should just talk to him about it, in my opinion.’ I say.

‘You think?’ I nod.

‘I think you are doing a really great job. You are going places, good for you.’ I smile and I make a ‘bold’ move and put my hand on his back. He looks up at me.

‘Thank you.’ He smiles and I take my hand back. The awkward silence and him staring into my eyes makes me jump up on my feet and stand in front of him.

‘Do you want a coffee?’ I ask and he chuckles. He stands up and suddenly we are incredibly close.

‘I’d be so lost in everything if I didn’t have you.’ He half whispers.

‘I’m just doing my job.’ I say and fuck I should have said something more friendly I know, but there is no going back now.

He smiles and moves past me.

The rest of the day I’m mainly on set. I am very exhausted by the afternoon and Nicholas still has to do a whole scene which is 2 hours in the call sheet.

He rushes into his trailer and I run with him.

The make-up girls are already inside and they are putting oil on his body because he is shirtless in this scene. His hair is messy and all their hands are roaming over his chest. God.

‘Do you need water?’ I ask.

‘No thanks, darling.’ He says, again with this name.

One girls eye shoots up to me and I look down to the papers in my hand in embarrassment.

‘Okay, you gotta be on set Nicholas.’ The AD runs into the trailer.

He nods and I help him put on his robe.

‘Break a leg.’ I say in a whisper.

And he actually turns and winks at me. Then he is out of the trailer.

‘That Nicholas guy is so fucking sexy.’ I overhear from a dressing room. I pass by and look in with a side eye. I can’t recognise either girls standing inside.

‘He is, I was supposed to be his PA, but that bitch pulled me out last minute.’ She sighs.

‘Fuck, I’m sorry girl.’ Another one laughs.

‘That blonde girl is his PA.’ One says, whose voice I recognise, the make-up artist.

‘Lucky-‘ One says as the other cuts her off.

‘Uh-uh. Not luck. I was doing his make-up when he literally asked for her. He literally said to Ariana that he wants her.’ The make-up artist says.

I try to back away but I can’t stop eavesdropping.

‘What the fuck? Does he know her or something?’ One asks with a judgy tone.

‘She probably sucked his dick or he can see she wants to suck his dick. He called her darling when she came inside.’ She says and I gulp. What? Was this really the case?

‘Sleeping her way to the top, purr girl.’ One says and they all laugh.

No. Does everybody think this?

I try to think back on the week and realisation hits me. It really was too good to be true. Did he really choose me because he wants to fuck me and then get me fired?

I hear the director yell ‘Cut!’ from a distance and somebody else shout ‘That’s a wrap for today!’ I make my way back to the set and I see him talking to his acting partner before shaking his hand and the director’s hand. He starts going towards his trailer when the make-up girl run up to him with a few towels.

I slowly step toward his trailer. I don’t know what to think.

Ariana comes behind me.

‘Ah, Francesca! Brilliant work today! Thank you! Never had a better PA here!’ She moves past me.

30 minutes pass when I help Mr. Waltz and his team get to the right gate to go home. I make my way back to Nicholas’ trailer.

I knock and take a deep breath.

‘Come in.’ He says.

I step in and he is still wearing his robe with jeans and is sitting on the couch on his phone.

‘Hi Francesca.’ He smiles.

‘Hi.’ I say bluntly. ‘Your driver will be here in 15.’ I say and I open the door. I don’t wish to be here for more than necessary.

‘What’s the problem?’ He stands up.

I close the door back.

‘Nothing.’ I lie. The problem is that he is ruining my reputation here. I didn’t sleep my way up here.

‘Sure?’ He steps closer and that’s when I realise actually how tall he is.

‘Yes. Are you okay?’ Why would he even care how am I?

‘Yes. Tell me the problem, baby.’ He whispers and I scoff loudly at that name.

‘What?’ He steps back.

If I tell this to him, I lose my job. Or maybe I won’t.

‘You know I heard people say they think I got this job because I sucked your dick?’ I say before I could even think if I should say it.

‘That’s not true of course, but the big difference between you and me is that it’s good for your reputation that you sleep around because you are this sexy superstar in the making, but for me… it’s the worst.’ I confess.

‘You think I’m sexy?’ He stands closer.

‘You are missing the point. And I do not, I said that as “the public”.’ I lie. Of course I think he is sexy.

‘I only asked for you because you seemed like a normal person.’ He says. ‘Not because I wanted you to suck my dick. Not that I would oppose to it.’

He adds that to the end which makes me blush.

‘Nicholas. I’m serious, do you want me to lose my job? You can’t talk to me that way.’ I say.

‘I would never let that happen.’ He says as he moves his hand up to my jaw.

I take in a sharp breath. My body is fighting my mind, I arch my back to get just slightly closer to him but my mind is telling me: no. He looks deep into my eyes and smirks.

‘Nicholas please. We can’t do this.’ I whisper as one of his hands travels down to my waist.

‘Do what?’ He smirks and this playfulness is getting into my head, I suddenly feel dizzy and my mind is blank, just him.

‘What’s the problem with this?’ He leans in closer and before I could react he kisses my neck softly.

I am suddenly overwhelmed by his closeness and his lips on me so I put my hands on his chest, regaining my thinking.

‘Nicholas, I’m serious. This can lose me my job.’ I say.

‘Nobody has to know.’ He looks me into the eye and I can see his eyes are full of lust. ‘Besides, I wouldn’t let them fire you.’

‘My reputation would be ruined, and what about my next job, where I’d get a different actor not you. Do I have to sleep with him?’ I ask.

‘No, definitely not. I’d hate that.’ He says and I smile and gently push him away.

‘We can’t, Nic. I’m serious.’ I smile softly at him.

He sighs deeply.

‘Okay. Just friends then?’ He asks and extends his hand.

‘Yes.’ For the next two months for sure.

I take his hand and suddenly he pulls me forward into his chest. I’m once again taken over by him and he smirks as he sees my red face.

‘Just one kiss?’ He asks with that smirk that I just can’t, can’t even explain and I fold. I nod.

He rushes forward and suddenly our lips are on each others and he is pushing me back against the door, his huge hands settling on my waist. I can’t help but to put my hand into his hair and pull it just a bit before he uses his tongue to enter my mouth. It’s too much but I love it. It kills me that he is only wearing a robe and I could touch his perfect chest, but I won’t do it because I fear I couldn’t stop after that. He moans into my mouth and I slow him down. I give him a last gentle peck on his plump lips.

‘Get dressed.’ I say and he steps away from me.

‘Okay.’ He smiles and I leave his trailer.

I go and get my bag and my food from the locker and check on my phone when I can catch the next bus. It says 3 minutes so I run. I say bye to everyone who is still there, and although I wanted to day bye to Nicholas, I see him getting into his car as I run past them. I hate running to catch the bus, I feel like it’s so humiliating when you run and put in all that effort and in the end you just fail.

This is what happened to me. The bus didn’t wait for me and now I have to wait in the cold for 25 minutes.

Sitting in the dark bus stop is when it hits me. I just had a heavy make out session with this hot actor that everybody wants and I was the one who stopped it, when I could have gone on and… I don’t want to imagine what would have happened.

‘No, Nicholas, we should stop.’ I say breathlessly.

‘Why?’ He asks and puts just one fingertip up my shirt, my skin heating up from that one little contact.

‘You just said we are just friends.’ I manage to say but he can’t stop kissing me.

‘I can’t do that baby, not now that I have tasted you.’ He says and he grabs into my ass and pushes me more into the wall. ‘I want you so bad.’

‘Nic…’ I moan as he makes his way down and kisses my neck and my jawline.

‘Shush, be quiet.’ He says as he gets on his knees and unzips my pants. I take a sharp breath.

‘So sexy.’ He whispers as he slides down my pants. I step out of them. ‘Hey!’

I look down at him as he is waving hey to me.

‘Hey! Francesca!’ He smiles from his knees. What?

I look up and my daydream fades, as Nicholas is waving me from his car that just stopped in front of me.

‘Get in!’ He says as he gets out of the car.

‘What?’ I ask and he comes and puts his hand on my lower back.

‘Robert is gonna take you home.’ He says and he opens the car door for me. I sit in and he sits next to me.

‘Köszi, Robi.’ I say in Hungarian and Robert starts the car.

‘You can speak fluently?’ Nic asks me.

‘Yes, uhm, mostly.’ I say nervously. Suddenly all that confidence that I had before, stopping him and all that, is gone.

‘That’s awesome. Italian too?’ He asks.

‘Yes, also, mostly.’ I reply.

‘Can you say… you are so beautiful in both languages?’ He asks and ugh I hate how he can cloud my brain. I’m sick of his games and sick of his childlike playfulness when in reality he probably just wants to fuck me and get it over with. Ariana said I did a good job and what if I’ll risk this film for this guy? I won’t do it on the next one.

I lean in closer.

‘Why do you want to know? Do you have your eyes on someone?’ I smile.

He is visibly taken aback, but his smile tells me he enjoys this side of me. I do too.

‘Yes, a very beautiful, smart and hot woman.’ He says and he moves his pinky finger to touch the side of my thigh.

‘Lucky lady… what’s her name?’ I push my thigh to his finger, so he puts the whole of his palm on me.

‘Wouldn’t want you to be jealous, baby.’ He says and he gives my thigh a firm grab.

‘Who says I’d be jealous?’ I ask.

‘I think it’s obvious. Your eyes are begging for me right now.’ He leans in to my ear. ‘I can see it in your eyes… you want to just get up from the seat, get on top of me, rip off my shirt and ride me here.’ He whispers and I get goosebumps.

‘Isn’t that right, baby?’ He says and moves his hand to palm my inner thigh.

‘Hm?’ He nudges me with his nose.

‘Do you want that?’ I ask.

‘More than anything.’ He says and he tries to move in to kiss me.

‘Patience. Can’t we wait… till we are more private?’ I ask and he nods and smirks.

After a frustrating car ride we get out at Nic’s hotel. We tell Robert I live close here so he doesn’t find it suspicious that I get out here. Like he couldn’t see him whispering and gripping my thigh just 10 minutes ago.

We get into the elevator and surprisingly, he doesn’t make any moves. We just stand in silence. Which I don’t like so I turn and press my lips to his. He quickly returns the kiss and grabs me from the back of my thighs to lift me up and push me against the wall.

‘What about patience?’ He asks and he palms my breast.

‘Fuck that.’ I say and the elevator door opens, Nic carries me to the door, holds me with one arm and opens the door with his other hand. When inside he throws me down on the giant couch and gets on top of me.

‘I want you so fucking bad, Francesca.’ He says and I quickly get to work and lift his shirt off. It is a different experience seeing it now, in front of my face, the abs glistening in the small light, ready to be touched by me, then in front of all those people today.

‘I can’t believe how sexy you are.’ I say boldly and he guides my hand to touch his toned stomach.

‘You haven’t even seen everything yet, princess.’ He keeps kissing me and moves past my neck, and while still holding my hand he undoes one button on my shirt with his teeth. I’m not sure if he is very skilled or he just ripped it. He moves my hand lower and I can feel his v-line which has a tiny trail of hair on it when I reach the waistband of his jeans. He uses his other hand to undo all my buttons, setting my bra covered breasts free.

He takes a deep breath and starts kissing them. I fidget with the waistband of his jeans when I finally reach inside. He moans.

He grabs my hand, pulls it out and props my hands up, on the top of my head.

‘Keep them there.’ He says and starts kissing down my belly.

He unzips my pants, pulls them down and pulls my panties to the side.

‘It’s so hot that I made you this wet.’ He looks up to me and takes a long lick up. I can’t help but be loud. He starts taking smaller licks at my clit and one of his fingers comes up to tease my hole. I reach down to grab his beautiful messy hair.

‘I said keep them there.’ He murmurs without parting from my pussy.

I put my hand back to the side of my head and I close my eyes to really feel how good he is doing. He is basically making out with me down there and I have to bit into my knuckle not to scream.

He suddenly grabs me by my waist and we sit up, before he takes his pants, while the only thing I can do is watch his muscles tighten with his every move and his dick jump with my every move.

He stands and he pushes me back down. He notices me staring and smirks.

‘Do you want to suck it?’ All I can do is nod and I get on my knees in front of the couch.

He puts up on foot on the couch, the other stays on the ground and puts his member right in front of my face. Despite his tallness this is the perfect level for me.

‘Suck, darling.’ He says and he puts one hand in my hair. I gently lick from the base till the tip till I take everything I can in my mouth.

‘Ah, baby, you are doing so good.’ He moans and he caresses the back of my head as I go back and forth on him.

I put my hand around the part I can’t fit and continue like that. He thrusts forward a few times which causes me to gag.

‘So good for me baby.’ He says and I look up at him.

‘Get up.’ He pulls out of my mouth and pulls me up. He sits down on the couch and pulls me on top.

‘Now, do you want this dick inside you?’ He asks and holds my face with one hand and the other slaps me on my ass.

‘Yes please.’ I say and he smirks.

‘Then get on it and bounce for me baby, I can’t wait to see your ass all on display for me.’ He says and he doesn’t have to tell me twice.

I start to get on top of him when I decide I’m gonna give him a show and I turn, my back to him.

‘Do you want it like this, Nic?’ I ask teasingly, my ass over his dick, his member already feeling my heat.

‘God, yes.’ He sighs and he grabs my waist and I sit down on it.

‘Fuck, ah fuck, you are so tight.’ He says and I start to move on it up and down.

I can hear he is enjoying himself from the loud breathing and moans, he slaps my ass occasionally, and these sounds alone are bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

He comes back from leaning in the couch and his stomach is now pressed to my back. He reaches one hand in front of me and starts massaging my clit.

‘I wish I could do you from behind all day, princess. You are so fucking pretty.’ He grabs my face and pulls it sideways to kiss me. I go harder and bounce faster on him as he plays with my clit.

‘Get off.’ He says and I do as he says, and just like I could read his mind, I get on all fours on the couch.

‘Francesca. You are such a slut for me. And you tried pretending you didn’t want me.’ He says as he comes up behind me and wastes no time pushing into me. ‘Now look at you, completely at my service.’ He says and he once again reaches to my clit and flicks it and rubs it till I’m sure I’m seeing stars.

‘Do you want to come?’ He asks when he feels me shivering under him.

‘Yes please, fuck.’ I say and I keep on fucking back on him with my ass.

‘Okay, princess.’ He says as he sets a steady pace with his thrusts and rubs my clit.

‘Come, baby, come for me, show me.’ He says into my ear and with a few more rubs I feel like I’m in heaven and I come. I come hard. In that moment he pulls out of me, I reach back to grab and jerk him all over my back and my ass. I collapse down on the bed.

I hear him grunt from behind me and as I’m about to look back…

‘No, baby! Don’t move, it’s all on your back. Wait.’ He says and he rushes to the bathroom to get a towel.

‘For your hand.’ He gives me a tissue and starts wiping the come from my back in the meantime.

I still feel powerless so I just lay on my stomach when he leans down to be face to face with me.

‘You were amazing baby. I loved it.’ He says and I smile.

‘You were pretty fucking good too.’ I say and he chuckles.

So what now? I sit down and I’m not sure where my clothes are, probably tossed somewhere. Am I supposed to go home? He disappeared into the bathroom, this would be the perfect opportunity for me to get away without having to experience his post nut clarity rejection. I find my shirt and put it on. He did indeed rip one button off. I put on my panties and I pray that me not peeing after is not going to kick me in the ass.

‘I could’ve gave you a shirt. That’s ruined.’ He comes out, just in his boxers. His hair is so messy, he is so handsome.

‘It’s okay… I can’t find my jeans.’ I say.

‘You sleep in jeans?’ He asks and I look at him and tilt my head and bit my lip to avoid my smile for a moment.

‘Nic. You don’t have to do this. It’s fine. I can go home. It’s better like this than in the morning when we have work and we avoid each other all day. Let’s sleep on this so tomorrow we can forget it.’ I say.

‘I don’t believe you want to do that. And I don’t either.’ He says and pulls out some kind of pasta from the fridge.

‘We will worry when the shoot is over. Until then you are welcome to come over to fuck my brains out again, or just to watch a reality show or something.’ He says and he divides the pasta into two portions.

I feel like he is genuinely meaning what he is saying. I sit up and he comes and gives me one of the plates.

‘Love Island?’ He asks.

‘The UK one?’ I ask.

‘Well, of course, babes.’ He says in a British accent.

He puts his arm around me and we eat our pasta and watch Love Island till we both fall asleep, me in his arms.

[kingkat12]

say it (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, jealousy-schemes, depictions of violence, blood, angst, fluff, Roman using his powers for no good as always

summary: many questions have been left unanswered-- is Roman really going to take revenge on the girls that hurt you, and will the avalanche of events lead him to finally tell you the words you've been longing to hear?

word count: 9,208 (holy fuck)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9

a/n: celebrating 400 followers (???) with an extra long chapter!! thank you all again for the support of this series!! all the comments have warmed my heaaarttt omg hope you enjoy!!!<3333 love u!!

Roman had always been highly unpredictable-- but this, I should've expected.

My hands trembled as I reached for the brand new phone in my locker, realizing he had bought me the most recent model he could find. As I picked it up, I slowly pried away the attached post-it note;

taking care of things - the one thing I do well

Knowing I had asked him not to do this, I could only sigh as I tucked my new phone away in my pocket. The day had certainly started on an odd note, but my main concern wasn't this-- it was rather the question of what Roman had done after he stormed away from my house that kept my mind occupied. 

Roman could be scary, and I was aware of this. But gifting me a brand new phone for several hundred dollars? It just proved I could never foresee his next moves. This only made me more anxious to learn why he had left my place in such a hurry shortly after seeing the cuts Jasmine had left on the back of my hands. 

As I closed the door to my locker, a group of girls passed me, their whispers catching my attention. I turned around, ready to face off with another group of bitches just like yesterday, all until I realized what they were whispering about. It wasn't me. 

I followed their gazes which were focused on something further down the hall, and it was at this moment that I spotted the man who hadn't answered any of my panicked messages or calls-- instead, he stood talking to Jasmine. 

Thankfully, it seemed to be quite a heated conversation, unlike how he usually spoke to girls. Roman's brows were drawn together in anger, nearing her slowly in his typical tactic of intimidation, clearly telling her off; I stood frozen by my locker, not bothering to suppress my growing smile at the sight. My stomach fluttered with warmth as I realized that he was standing up for me.

... However, my smile quickly faltered as I caught the change in Jasmine's face. Her lips had been pursed, her finger had been drawn forward to point at him in defense, but her whole fight-back demeanor faded within the snap of a second. It was as though she lost all the blood in her face, eyes not blinking as they met Roman's intense gaze-- everything about her state reminded me of mine yesterday, when I suddenly couldn't control my own words when I looked into his eyes and he interrogated me about my wounds. 

I couldn't deny how dangerous Roman looked, watching as he told her one last, short thing, before harshly nudging her shoulder and disappearing out of view.

Jasmine stood by her locker, completely frozen. I wondered whether she was still breathing, all until she finally moved. She slowly turned to stare into her reflection in the mirror she had hung up on her locker, still not blinking. 

I didn't think I could shriek the way I did-- the extent of my voice was something I discovered as Jasmine unexpectedly slammed her head against the mirror, a loud thud echoing through the hall. 

I wasn't the only one who had been caught by surprise, and I watched the people around her jump away in a mix of both fear and shock. 

Jasmine didn't look like herself; her eyes were dull, hollow, as she brought her head to her locker once more, now leaving bloody cracks in the mirror. 

I recognized Jasmine's posse of girls flocking to make their way through the crowds, and Letha appeared almost out of nowhere to grab her and pull her away from her locker. A shrill cry followed from Jasmine, who was clawing at Letha as though possessed. I watched as she fought, yelled-- I couldn't look at it anymore. I couldn't look at the tiny trickle of blood running down her nose, similar to Roman yesterday, or the small shards of glass she had managed to get lodged into her forehead. 

I turned away, clasping a hand over my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut; something told me that the sight of the whole thing would burn itself into my mind forever.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Oh, how right I was. I kept replaying the whole scene, but I had oddly enough fixated on something that wasn't the blood-- suddenly, my mind kept replaying how ridiculously hot Roman looked leaned over Jasmine with his intense, big eyes. 

I did my best not to think too much about it. I couldn't; it all brought back thoughts of how soft his lips were against mine.

Speaking of Roman, I didn't expect to talk to him at all today. He still hadn't answered any of my messages, so I assumed he needed time away to cool off.  However, I knew I had him cornered when I accidentally walked into the chemistry lab, catching him in the middle of... an experiment?

This was certainly a new side of Roman which I hadn't seen before-- I had never seen him do anything school-related, as I had gathered he didn't care much for it from our study sessions at Letha's place before everything happened. But here he was, so consumed in whatever he was doing that he didn't acknowledge that I had closed the door, leaving us alone in a confined space.

I pressed my back against the cold door, watching him from afar. Something about how calm he was made me uneasy; why was he so focused? Roman, captivated by the small, compact container before him, kept his eyes on his work as he spoke; "Are you lost?"

My brows drew together as I watched him pour a liquid gel into the container which contained what looked like blood-- he was so meticulous that it gave me an inkling that he had done this several times before. "No," I mumbled, clearing my throat as I fought my queasiness at the sight of his experiment. "What are you doing?"

Roman barely reacted to my question, busy with putting the container into a machine nearby. "Genetic testing,"

"Since when do you know how to do that?"

Annoyed by my continuous interruptions, Roman's gloved hand put the blood-box into the machine and pressed a button to start it, finally looking up to meet my nervous, flickering gaze. "You certainly have a lot of questions today," he huffed, adjusting his protective glasses. "My turn. How are your hands?"

I suddenly became very aware of the cuts on the back of my hands, and my eyes diverted down to watch my thumbs nervously brush over my wounded skin. "They'll heal. I'm not too worried about it," My next inquiry was one I was wary to say, but it became obvious to me that I had to; "I'm more worried about why you stormed off like that last night."

Roman didn't move a muscle, watching me with a blank look on his face. "You told me to go,"

"Come on," I was reminded of what my state had led me to yesterday; the way I wanted to push Roman away, to never see him again. But here I was, standing before him with no greater wish than to run to him. "I was worried sick that you'd do something... You looked like you were ready to kill someone." It was at this moment that I dared to look back at him and suddenly caught a glimpse of the hickey I had left on the side of his throat-- I immediately felt a familiar warmth creep up my cheeks, leaving me with a flustered, reddening expression on my face. "What did you do?"

Roman tilted his head to the side, scanning my state. "I haven't done anything--"

"Then why did you?--"

"Major," Roman bit down on his lower lip, trying to suppress his shameless grin. The familiar spark in his green eyes returned, and I could see it perfectly clear through his protective gear-- no matter how worried his words made me, that look never failed to make the butterflies in my stomach explode all over the place. 

I had to pull myself together, but my voice came out frail and shaky; "You're kidding, right?"

I recognized Roman's wish to remain reactionless and the way he fought the rounding out of his big, green eyes. It seemed to dawn on him that I was genuinely concerned. "... Sure. But what did you think of what happened this morning with Jasmine?"

"What?" That was certainly unexpected-- "Why?" I wanted to ask what he had said to her, but something told me he wouldn't tell me the truth about it anyway. Instead, I opted to find comfort in the fact that he had confronted her for my sake. 

Roman shrugged before his attention moved back to the machine. It was beeping rather obnoxiously, a sound impossible to ignore. He got back to work, pressing a few buttons here and there; "Just wondering. Did it not make you feel good to see her like that?"

I couldn't put my finger on why he was asking these peculiar questions. "Well... No? I was mostly scared. I've never seen anyone have a nervous breakdown before, and I didn't expect something like that to happen to Jasmine,"

"Nervous breakdown," Roman echoed, checking some numbers he had written down on a sheet nearby. Something told me he was upset I wasn't over the moon about it. "Don't you feel like she deserved it?"

It was mind-boggling to hear him talk like this, with such nonchalance about a girl slamming her head bloody-- I had suppressed the memory of this side of him. The inclination to anything pain-related, the scorching look of amusement in his green eyes at the sight of my flaring anxiety, and the infamous fucking needles. How he had gotten hard when seeing how scared I was when we hid from Letha on our first date. 

I hated every reminder of this side of Roman. Hated it. 

"I don't think anyone deserves to be driven to that," I mumbled, picking at my nails out of nervous habit. "I didn't know she was dealing with anything that would lead her to do that. Maybe that's why she acted out yesterday? I hope that's the reason, and not because Letha sent her to do it... " With a sigh, I brought my hands up to rub my temples. "It was so damn scary... The whole thing. And ever since, my head has been hurting like crazy."

Taking in the silence that ensued, Roman tapped the spot next to him on the counter-- come here.

I held my breath as I made my way over with shy steps, hoisting myself up on the cold surface. I watched as Roman removed his gloves along with the protective glasses, now reaching forward to part my legs and make space for himself between them. He listened to the hitch of my breath as he laid his hands on my hips, his calculated gaze scanning mine whilst pulling me towards him. 

By instinct, I rested my hands on his broad shoulders, taking in the moment our breaths became shared. Right now, it was impossible to believe that I had made the wrong choice in choosing him over my friendship with Letha-- something about the tenderness with which he was touching me, told me he was changing right before my eyes. 

With baby steps, of course.

Roman seemed to be taking pity on my state, softly nudging his upturned nose against mine. "Try not to think about it too much," he breathed, watching as I closed my eyes to savour the moment. "Trust that I know how to take care of this."

No, no, no-- "Please don't say that," I pulled away, my hands slowly reaching for his face, searching for the intent behind his eyes. "I know you well enough to know that you're capable of things I don't want to get into, and honestly? You scare me when you say shit like that."

Roman's brows drew together in a troubled look; "I scare you?"

"Yeah," I breathed, stroking my thumbs across his cheeks. "You and your infamous needles and stuff."

A drawn-out groan ensued-- "Again with the fucking needles!--"

"Roman!" My grip on his face hardened in an attempt to keep his focus. I watched his green eyes widen, clearly not used to being handled like that. "Whatever it is, please snap out of it! You can't even tell me that you're into me, but you're ready to go back to being all dark, and for what? My honour?"

Something in Roman's eyes changed-- For once in his life, he was stunned, unable to utter a proper response. 

Overcome by a newfound sense of confidence in his unproclaimed feelings for me, I gently twisted my fingers into the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Roman let out a relieved sigh against my lips, his grip on my hips tightening as he moved me closer to the edge of the counter, closer to him. 

It took a lot of willpower to disconnect our kiss, the warmth of his touch luring me in. "I'm serious," I said, nudging his nose as I felt his breath hot against my upper lip. "I can stand up for myself--"

"Shut up," Roman's lips came crashing against mine with a hunger I hadn't expected, especially knowing we could be walked in on at any moment. But I gave in, letting his greedy hands travel further to grab my ass, pressing me against him as his tongue moved softly against mine. 

Usually, I'd taste the hints of his cinnamon cigarettes, but today there was nothing-- I knew he didn't smoke the days he knew he had to be focused. There wasn't much time to ponder why, especially now that our kiss heated further.

As I felt Roman drive his teeth into my lower lip, I could only whimper against him. My grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to pull him even closer, but the sharp sting of the tug only fueled Roman's obvious growing need for more. 

It was building in me as well-- in my anxious daze, I had forgotten how good it felt to feel him against me. How thrilling every touch, every kiss, every little breath was. And if anyone had told me a month ago that Roman Godfrey would be grabbing my ass in the chemistry lab, I would've probably fainted; which I struggled not to do right now.

And I knew we would've gone further, beyond all restrictions and rules of the school, had the door not opened with a loud creak.

Squeaking, I pushed Roman away out of pure instinct. He didn't go very far, feet planted to the ground, as his hands trailed down to rest comfortably at my thighs when he met the eyes of the intruder of our moment.

Letha still held onto the doorknob as though her life depended on it, knuckles nearly turning white at the sheer force-- she inhaled sharply, not yet able to exhale. 

I felt like an icicle, frozen by fear on the counter after meeting the eyes of my ex-best friend. Roman's hands on my thighs burned, the realization of being caught in such a compromising position making me want to burst into flames like the witches of Salem. 

Roman took the lead, catching onto the intense staring-contenst which ensued between me and his cousin; "Did you need anything?" he asked, gaze hardening. 

Letha cleared her throat, letting go of the door. I couldn't help but notice the slight shake of her hands. "I need to talk to you, Ro," 

"I don't want to talk," 

She sighed, visibly fed up with her stubborn cousin; "We didn't finish this conversation yesterday. Don't act like we're not still talking because she's here,"

Oh? I held my breath, my nervous gaze moving to Roman. He remained unfazed, but the minuscule twitch of his eye revealed that he didn't enjoy that information being aired out. "What do you want?"

"To talk. It's important," Letha glanced at me once more, an unintelligible emotion glossing over her eyes as she looked back at me; "Could you please leave?"

It took a few seconds before I realized she was talking to me. The coldness in her voice broke my heart all over-- I didn't have the energy to fight her. Uncomfortable and mortified by the situation, I nodded to myself before sliding off the counter, Roman's hand never leaving me. He now held onto my arm, not letting me go just yet. Leaning down to my level, he made sure he had my attention before he spoke in a hushed tone; "My number is already in your phone. Give me a text when you're free for lunch,"

My heart leaped up into the air as Roman pressed his lips against my forehead, the sincerity of the gesture flustering me beyond any previous point-- it was especially meaningful now that he did it in front of Letha. Realizing there was no going back, I got up on my toes to give him a short, soft kiss, feeling the plushness of his lips against mine before making my way to the door.

Passing Letha might've taken less than a second, but it felt like hours. I felt her green eyes burn into me, a sense of shock apparent in her body. We exchanged a short look, and I wondered whether I imagined the look of longing that so clearly streaked across her face; I didn't allow myself to dwell on it.

After closing the door behind me, I realized I had been holding my breath. I took a moment, regaining my composure before I got ready to kick off the door-- all until it dawned on me how clearly I could hear Letha's voice through the wall. My heart stopped, realizing I was about to do something I never thought I'd do; I pressed my ear against the door, mentally beating myself up for doing this.

"I see you guys are still getting along," Letha said, her fingers tapping against the door. "That's longer than any of the other friends you've stolen from me."

Roman groaned-- I didn't need to see him to know that he was rolling his eyes. "Get to the point,"

I drove my body closer to the door to hear them better, hearing Letha stepping away from the other side of it to come closer to her cousin. "Tell me why I had to drive Jasmine to school today because the wheels of her car had been punctured? Or even worse, how she got a note under her bedroom door saying she should watch her back?"

There was a long silence before Roman finally answered, a hint of humor in his voice; "... Maybe she should, then?--"

"Ro, you were in her house! Are you out of your mind?!"

As he groaned, I could almost see his usual annoyed stance and the way he grabbed the surface in front of him as his anger simmered to a boil. "Me? I would be more concerned about your own mind if I were you! Your cunt of a friend would've done it all again in a heartbeat if I hadn't scared her a little!"

Letha gasped; "What are you talking about? You have no right to call her a!--"

"That bitch hurt her!" Roman's fist came down against the counter, the thud making me jump away from the door. "Have you seen the state of her hands? How do you expect me to react when our petty bullshit comes down to this?!" 

I imagined the stunned look across Letha's face, the way her eyes widened as her lips parted, unable to find the right words. Eventually, she spoke; "Jasmine did what?"

I pressed myself harder up against the door, closing my eyes as it dawned on me how concerned Letha sounded. Everything about it made my heart swell with hope-- this meant she hadn't been the one to send Jasmine and her girls. If anything, she sounded horrified about the ordeal.

"Yeah... She did. And when I talked to Jasmine this morning, she seemed quite proud of it. You should be damn happy I didn't kill her on the spot," I heard the humming of the blood machine starting again, along with the snapping of gloves being pulled back on, indicating that Roman was back to work. "But does Jasmine suspect it's me?" he asked, a certain nonchalance about him. "The car and all?"

Letha sighed, trying to contain her outbursts; "She has no idea. And now she's just rambling incoherent things after what happened this morning... I think she's concussed,"

A hum. "Good,"

I clasped a hand over my mouth to suppress a snort. Against my palm, I could feel my growing smile as I realized this confirmed that Roman wasn't motivated to take revenge on Jasmine to quench his thirst to cause fear, but that he cared for me.

He cared for me.

My smile only grew as I stepped away from the door-- He cared for me. He cared for me!

Now, what remained was for Roman to actually own up to it... And I realized I was grinning as the perfect idea of how to get it out of him came to mind. But my plans came to a hard stop when Letha's voice sounded through the door once more; "Whose blood are you using this time?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. I grimaced as I walked back to the door; I felt bad listening in on their conversation. Still, I imagined Letha was pointing at the machine Roman was using, as it kept making noise. 

"Jasmine's," Roman mumbled. "Got enough scraped off her locker to make a sample."

"Ro, that's not funny!--"

"Why haven't you girls made up yet?"

Letha sounded confused as she mentioned my name, not having foreseen the change of subject. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yeah? It's getting annoying at this point. I thought this would blow over several weeks ago," With another loud beep, Roman stopped the machine. "She talks about you a lot. Gets all quiet when I tell her we're having family dinner at your house... And she still has a picture of you two by her bed."

"Oh, and how do you know that? Did you spot it one of the times you were reaching for the condoms on her nightstand?"

His breathing got harder, choppy, before his frustration sounded through his answer; "It's not like that,"

"Okay, then," Letha snorted, clearly not sold. "I'll put it simply for you. How would you feel if I fucked your best friend?"

"Ew, don't give me that mental image!--"

"Fuck you, just imagine a world where I would be enough of an asshole to do that! Imagine I slept with Peter. How would you feel?"

Roman took his time to answer, clearly flustered. "... I get it, okay? I get it!" 

"No, you don't," I could almost see the way Letha now avoided his gaze. "But... did it have to be her? Why couldn't you mess around with anyone else, why did you choose the first girl I trusted to get close to me after you screwed all my other friends?"

Learning of his previous conquests with Letha's long line of friends made me sick, but I focused on the fact that Roman remained quiet. Honestly, I would've cut off my left arm in exchange for seeing him right now. I wondered whether he could meet her eyes or not, and whether he was defensive or anxious. 

Eventually, Roman answered; "She... sees me. And she makes me feel good about myself. So I'm sorry your bitch-friend got hurt or whatever, but I'm just trying to return the favour,"

I had to do a lot to contain my instinctual jump of joy-- I was two seconds away from skipping down the hallway like a German child in a fairytale. Everything about this conversation made me want to squeal and melt into the door. 

However, the other part of me hurt for Letha. Hurt for the girl who knew me better than anyone else, hurt for the first person to have shown me true friendship. I hoped that we could get together someday, to talk it out like people, and not like the two crazy families from Romeo and Juliet. 

The rest of the conversation quickly became a childish spat similar to one between siblings-- I stepped away from the door, making sure to keep breathing. 

The most important thing I gathered from that conversation was the fact that Roman saw me and that he definitely had feelings for me. However, I couldn't quite put my finger on why he couldn't say it to my face. If he was willing to go so far as to scare off Jasmine for my sake, why couldn't he look me in the eye and tell me what he truly felt about me? I knew it would make me feel much better to get his feelings for me confirmed-- the fact that he was evading it left me uneasy. Uncomfortable. And quite frankly, it only made me further insecure.

What if I had sacrificed my relationship with Letha for someone who would never commit to one with me? 

My mind returned to the plan I previously made up with my ear pressed to the door; maybe Roman just needed a push in the right direction?

Either that, or I had been led on like the biggest idiot of the century.

I couldn't do this anymore-- I needed to know.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And so, it was all set in motion. 

The first part of the plan was to find out whether it was necessary to have a plan at all. This, I decided to investigate in the backseat of Roman's car. 

It used to be a place that I refused to step foot in after hearing of his cheerleader-conquests. However, right now, it was a place of comfort and peace; he had parked it somewhere desolate, per my request. My parents had gotten suspicious after hearing steps on the roof the other day, and were now watching the whole area around our house like hawks to spot any possible intruders. So, as I didn't want to be caught sneaking a boy into my room, I told Roman to get creative-- and he had hit the jackpot.

This summer night was nice and warm, and we lay curled up in the back of his car as we stared up at the starry sky; this was one of the perks of Roman's car having the function of pulling down the roof. He sat with his back against the car door, me between his legs with my head leaned on his shoulder, the both of us looking up at tonight's constellations decorating the darkness above. 

"I'm not even going to act like I know what that one is," I mumbled, pointing up at the scatter of stars. I wrapped myself further up in his sweater, tracing patterns over the arm he had around me-- the night air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of grass and the faintest hint of rain as my body filled with a certain satisfaction I hadn't felt in a while.

Roman chuckled, pressing a kiss against my cheek as his arm pulled my back flush against his chest. Like this, I could spot my hair ties still worn around his wrists. "It's the Little Bear constellation," he murmured, his long, slender fingers rubbing circles into my side. "See how it looks like a bear cub?"

I decided not to lie; he'd see right through me, anyway. "... No,"

"No?" Roman reached forward to grab my hand into his, closing one eye to position my hand properly with his vision. "Even if I trace it for you?"

It was impossible not to blush. His hand against mine, his warmth against my skin-- everything about this was so incredibly intimate, and I had to hold myself back from simply jumping him out of pure joy. "I-- Well," It was hard to speak when I was this flustered. I swallowed hard before trying again; "I don't think bears have long tails like that."

Roman seemed amused by my answer; "You make a good point," he purred, gently intertwining our fingers before bringing my hand towards his lips, pressing a kiss against my cuts. "As always."

I only blushed further, not bothering to suppress my smile anymore. Turning to him, I watched his big, green eyes meet mine with a softness that nearly made me melt right into him. "How do you even know all of this?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder. "You don't strike me as a constellation nerd."

Roman rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. Something told me he was charmed by the subtle compliment of his intellect; "Is it hard for you to believe I'm not braindead?"

"Maybe," I turned back towards the stars, hoping he wouldn't spot my grin. "Pretty boys usually don't even know how to count to forty."

Chuckling, Roman nuzzled his cheek against the top of my head, wrapping both arms around me again. "So now I'm pretty, huh?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, deciding to be blunt-- I didn't gain anything by lying to him about it, anyway. Not after everything we had been through. "I think you're really damn pretty."

Something told me he hadn't expected the frankness, or for me to even be truthful at all. Roman remained quiet, taking in the sweetness of the moment. He took the time to kiss my temple, humming against my skin; "I think you're pretty too," he murmured. "Very, very pretty."

There was no way to suppress the blush burning its way up my cheeks, and I closed my eyes to savour the moment he kissed me. Roman was being so gentle, so loving-- I couldn't believe this was the same boy I had been running away from because I was scared he'd prick me with his scary needles. He seemed to notice how flustered I got from the compliment, letting out a warm chuckle as his gaze turned up at the sky again. As he pointed out a new constellation, Roman's voice was laced with a kind of wonder that made me smile; "If you want the full answer, it is the fact that there's something more up there that makes it interesting. Something much bigger than us... Something worth reaching for, y'know? The stars are just a blatant sign,"

I turned to look at him, watching the way his green eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the stars above us. Roman was so painfully beautiful, and so wonderfully at ease-- there was nothing I wanted more than for him to feel this peaceful all the time. I knew it would be good for his soul. 

I wondered whether Roman knew that he was something worth reaching for, as well. 

Everything about this evening made my body feel like gelatin. I couldn't even feel my fingers anymore, engulfed in the euphoria that was Roman. This was the perfect distraction from everything that had happened this week, and I realized it was also the perfect time to set my plan in motion; "So... you're willing to admit I'm pretty, but you're not going to say it?"

"Say what?"

I shrugged, feeling myself grow nervous. Roman was usually the one to mess up cute moments by saying something stupid, but I wondered whether now was my turn. "That you like me,"

However, he remained unfazed-- or, at least he was very good at acting like he was. His silence made me further anxious, now starting to wonder if I was the reason he wasn't able to say it to my face. Maybe he wasn't as into me as I had thought? Maybe this was just how he treated every girl he liked? 

I knew it wasn't, but I realized I was spiraling; I needed him to spell it out for me. I really, really hoped he would-- then I wouldn't have to go that dreaded extra length and go into phase two of my plan.

Roman pressed his lips against the top of my head, clearly lost in thought as he brought me back from mine. "Do you need me to?"

That was a good question-- one I knew the answer of. "I think so, yeah..."

"You need it spelled out?"

"Yeah,"

"Verbatim?"

"Verbatim, Rome,"

The nickname seemed to throw him off; he let out a breathy chuckle, shifting to get a good look at me. "Since when am I Rome to you?"

I shrugged, meeting his green eyes. "Since... now?"

Roman smiled down at me, clearly flattered. "Cute," he breathed, leaning in to place a sweet kiss against my cheek. I giggled as Roman's fingers dug into my skin, pressing me further up against him in a flash of passion-- although this moment was perfect in theory, I knew I hadn't gotten what I wanted out of him tonight, and I dreaded what I had to do because of it.

Quite frankly, I dreaded it mostly because I was very well aware that the second part of my plan was incredibly high-risk. Stupid. Reckless, even.

However, I didn't see any other way of forcing those three words out of Roman that I needed so much. How else was I supposed to prove to myself that I hadn't sacrificed my friendships for nothing?

I dreaded every single step up I took as I made my way through the cafeteria the next day. In my peripheral view, I saw Roman sitting next to his best friend, Peter, chatting away about something as none of them had noticed me yet. It was only when I caught Roman's eyes that my heart started racing-- I watched his confusion build as I started walking in the opposite direction.

Determined, I knew this was the perfect moment to execute the second part of the plan. I did my best to keep my face neutral, hoping not to be visibly bothered by Roman's watchful stare, as I deliberately sat down next to Daniel-- the guy who had flirted with me at an assembly a month ago. 

I specifically chose Daniel because I remembered Roman saying he had noticed me talking to him; I also knew that this guy was the key to making him see the consequences of staying unofficial. 

I didn't need to look at Roman to know he was seething.

Daniel turned to me, putting down his fork. We hadn't talked since I started seeing Roman and stopped responding to his messages-- he was visibly confused, but there was a certain sparkle in his blue eyes that gave away his delight. "Hi?" He quickly turned to his friends who were all staring at us and motioned for them to get back to their own shit. 

"Hey, you," I shifted in my seat, attempting to make myself comfortable whilst Roman's gaze drilled holes into the side of my skull. "Haven't seen you in a hot minute. How are you?" Putting on my nicest smile, I tilted my head a little as I spoke-- that used to work on him. 

Daniel blinked twice, clearly unsure what to say. "Uh... Yeah, of course I haven't seen you, you've been busy with Roman," His eyes darted over to the latter, watching as my very unofficial boyfriend glared daggers his way. "I'm fine now, but I'm afraid I won't be later if you don't move soon."

This had been one of the driving factors of me not falling for Daniel-- this guy was an absolute wuss. I did my best not to roll my eyes, knowing how to rope him back in again; I placed a gentle hand against his arm, rounding out my eyes as Daniel turned back to me. His blonde hair fell over his eyes, a bright contrast to the dark blue of his varsity jacket, as his heart visibly skipped a beat. 

"You want me to move?" I tried, keeping my tone soft as I gave his arm a short squeeze.

In my peripheral view, I caught a glimpse of Roman stiffening in his seat. His green, intense eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fingers tapped impatiently against the table as his mood darkened. That same, unmistakable anger looming over him like a dark cloud worried me-- I knew I didn't have much time to make my point before he'd explode. 

However, distractingly comical, was the sight of Peter next to him, debating whether to put his hand on his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down; his hand kept jerking back and forth, jumping with every twitch of Roman's eye.

Daniel swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving mine. "Well... You don't have to move," He cleared his throat, giving in to a nervous chuckle. "You're already here, I guess. Pretty as always."

I had to fight my instincts to not throw up in my mouth-- it made me physically ill to flirt with him when I was so sickeningly crazy about Roman. "Oh, you're too kind," I tried, forcing a smile.

Daniel flashed me that typical heartthrob smile of his, finally giving in to my antics. He tilted his head, mimicking me, as his eyes sparkled with want; "Fuck, I've missed seeing you around,"

That seemed to be enough for Roman-- his possessive intensity came to a simmer, boiling over. He kicked away his chair as he got up, an angry groan escaping him as stormed off with balled fists. Peter sent me a sharp look of come on before he left his food behind to follow his best friend.

That was my cue to leave. "I, uh... Sorry," Releasing Daniel's arm with a quickness I didn't know I had in me, I practically jumped out of my seat, allowing myself to shudder when I was out of view. I didn't like touching any other guy like that, but I hoped that Roman would take the time to let it dawn on him that this could be his reality if he didn't step the fuck up.

... I really hoped that would be his conclusion. 

However, it dawned on me that this might've been my biggest misstep so far. I had learned that one of the most important things for Roman, was loyalty-- maybe I shouldn't have toyed with his perception of mine?

Putting it all together, I realized I should've expected it to blow up in my face.

The third and final part of my plan had been simple in my head; Roman would confront me about what had happened in the cafeteria, and then he'd tell me he couldn't stand the sight of me with another man and therefore wants us to be official.

... It seems that I had gotten in over my head.

The exact opposite of that happened. Now, Roman wasn't answering my calls. He would walk past me in the hallway as though I was a ghost, even though the fading hickey on the side of his neck served as a reminder of our time together. I hadn't expected him to ignore me like this, I really hadn't-- he was utterly unforgiving.

It had been three days of no contact. No shared glances, no exchanged words, simply because I got too confident. Why had I thought it would be so easy to get what I wanted? Why had I felt the need to drag a confession out of him when his actions spoke for him?

Roman had made sure none of Letha's friends would touch me again-- or, at least in the near future, seeing as the main instigator was at home with a severe concussion. He had put in a good word for me with Letha, he had bought me a new phone, and he had opened up enough to both accept and enjoy physical affection. Why hadn't I seen it this clearly before I messed it all up?

It all came down to one moment in the hallway. 

Exhausted and alone, I had zoned out like I usually did to distract myself from everything as I rummaged through my locker for my book. My body felt heavy with the sadness coursing through my veins, knowing I had no one anymore. No one. My every moment was slow, not having the energy to hurry much as I spent an unusual amount of time looking for the specific book I needed.

Up until my body froze at the sight to my right.

My head slowly turned to watch what was happening a few meters down the hall. There he was, the man that had haunted my every waking moment, vexed my every thought, with a girl. 

Roman had that classic heartbreaker look about him as always, leaning his hand next to the girl's head against the locker. From this angle, I could see the upward turn of his nose, the way his smirk painted across his lips, and the way his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of his next prey.

The most jarring part about it was the fact that I could still see my hair ties around Roman's wrist as his palm lay flat against the locker behind her, almost as though it was on purpose.

It became downright nauseating when the girl giggled and started twirling her finger around her hair-- I did my best not to throw up my breakfast. Questions raced through my mind, fogging up my brain; why was he doing this here, in front of me? Why was he doing this at all? 

I was sure this was what people meant when speaking of tasting their own medicine.

I stood frozen by my locker, one hand still shoved beneath the rubble of books, as involuntary tears pressed up against my eyes. I tried to ground myself with a few deep breaths, yet the world around me felt as though it was crumbling. All these games were so damn childish from the both of us; when would it end? I was living through my worst nightmare, and it became a hundred times worse when I realized I had been warned about this before by Roman himself.

I was reminded of the first night we kissed in that closet during seven minutes of heaven;

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

Oh, if only he'd known how right he was. Now I had no one to run to, no one to seek comfort from, all because of my own stupidity. Not only had I managed to lose all my friends, but now I had lost the one thing I had sacrificed everything for; Roman.

A pit formed in my stomach as I watched him lean closer to her, laughter dancing between them. Didn't he know how much that hurt? Didn't he see me standing here, shattered? I was so lost in the shock, that when Roman turned to face me, revealing that he knew exactly where I was and that I was watching, I barely registered it. My eyes had welled up in tears, looking completely shell-shocked as I watched his smirk immediately falter at the sight of my watery gaze.

In a flash of action, I slammed my locker shut, not bothering to look for my book anymore. I needed to get away. Now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When I got home that same day, I had expected to be left in peace-- that was the most logical conclusion. My parents were at a loss with what to do with me, and of course I had no friends reaching out to check up on me. I was quite sure I had hit the lowest of the low, simply sinking into a state of forced apathy as I lay with my face down into my pillow, spreading out on my bed wearing Roman's enormous sweater. I was quite sure I had been like this for hours, not getting up, not eating-- I didn't care anymore.

I couldn't care; it would break me. Just like that sight of Roman with that girl. 

I touched my neck, feeling the soreness of my fading hickeys as lightning struck outside. There were barely any traces now, and the realization that they would be gone in a day or two hit me like a truck. Thankfully, I didn't have many tears left in my body. I lay in the coldness of the puddle of grief I had left on my pillow, shivering as it dawned on me that I might never feel Roman's lips against mine again. Never feel his hands around my waist, never be in the back of his car, and never get to lay in his arms ever again. As the heavy rain continued to tap against my window, every drop felt like a reminder of the moments we'd shared, slipping away.

I remembered that first time Roman smiled at me in class. Every memory came to me; the rush of excitement coursing through my veins during our first kiss, the feeling of laughing with him at that café on our first date, and the way I would sometimes wake up to Roman's arm tightly wrapped around me in a protective, loving embrace. He wanted to hold me, even in sleep. 

He wanted me. Roman Godfrey wanted me, and I threw it all away because of my incessant need for him to commit.

And just as I was about to choke out any remaining tears, I heard a knock at my door. I didn't care to move, knowing my parents knew of my state, as my words got muffled against my pillow; "What is it? I'm not having dinner!"

"That's not it," My parents seemed to be whispering between themselves before one of them continued; "Sweetie... there's a boy for you at the door."

I bounced off of the bed as though I had heard a gunshot, and I landed on the floor with a groan as I crashed down against the hard wood. Wondering whether the thud had sounded through the ceiling downstairs, I realized I didn't have time to think about that; "Okay, give me-- Give me a second!" I got up from the floor, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest as I ran to my mirror, doing my best to fix the way I looked before leaving my room.

My thoughts were racing as I made my way past my parents, realizing they were staying upstairs to give us some space. I didn't need to guess who the boy at the door was-- still, I froze halfway down the stairs at the sight of him.

There he was, drenched in rain. Roman took a deep breath at the sight of me, watching the way his sweater draped over my shoulders with his big, green eyes. He, too, seemed to have frozen to his spot like an icicle, and a thick silence ensued as I gripped onto the banister of the stairs-- I was afraid I'd faint and roll right down. As he stood there, cold and vulnerable, I felt the walls of insecurity I had built up begin to crumble; his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything I'd lost.

Even worse was the way I tensed up, ready for him to yell at me and blow up. My grip on the banister tightened to suppress the subtle shake of my hands as I held my breath.

Finally, Roman spoke-- but it was far from what I had imagined him to say; "I don't know what happened. It doesn't make sense," His eyes rounded out, so heartbreakingly sincere. "We were good, and suddenly we weren't. I made sure you were safe from those girls, and then you went and flirted with that assembly guy... It doesn't make any sense."

I let in a long, shaky breath, feeling the guilt seeping through my veins. "I thought... I thought I needed you to say it,"

"Say what?" Roman shivered, clearly cold from his wet clothes. It made me wonder how long he had paced back and forth in the rain before approaching the door. "That I like you?"

My cheeks burned-- "Yeah..."

Another wave of silence ensued as Roman no longer met my gaze, biting his teeth together as he tried to steady his breathing. I could feel hints of his brewing anger beneath his attempts to keep calm; "Did you need me to say it so bad?" he mumbled. "Have I not shown you what I feel for you? Was it not blatantly obvious?"

Everything about his tone made me want to burst into tears-- it made me feel seven again, being told off in front of the whole class. "I'm sorry," I didn't know what else to say, at a loss for words. "You're just so hot and cold sometimes, I thought it would make me feel better if I got it confirmed. I sacrificed so much to be with you, and it was freaking me out that you couldn't say you want to be with me as well... I guess it really got to me."

It was clear that Roman was conflicted, consumed by a storm of thoughts. His green eyes softened, his brows drawing together in a look of melancholic sorrow as he let out a sigh. "I hear you, but it's just... Those girls went after you because you were with me. I know you've had a tough time, and I didn't want to make it any worse for you by making us official... By making my feelings official," His voice trembled, revealing the cracks in his tough exterior-- it was as though the weight of his own fears had finally become too much to bear.

Another wave of guilt washed over me, knowing I had driven him to this point with my schemes. "Why would that make it worse?" I dared to take another step down the stairs, letting go of the banister. "Wouldn't it be a good thing? Don't you think it would've made me feel better?"

Roman's eyes fixated on the laces of his wet shoes, and I watched him change his weight from one foot to the other. It was obvious that he was nervous, especially as he cleared his throat. "I don't think I'd be a good boyfriend," he mumbled. "I shut down. I retaliate when I'm angry. And I don't know whether Letha would ever forgive you if we got into a relationship, and I know that would crush you."

Despite the reminder of Letha, I had to bite down on my bottom lip to suppress my growing smile-- it warmed my heart to hear how he had thought this through down to every last detail. 

Roman was rambling at this point; "I was just so shocked when you went to Daniel, I thought I was going to faint. The way you smiled at him, the way you touched him... I couldn't even look at you these past few days, and then I couldn't stand the silence either, hence that show in the hallway... I just didn't expect you to cry. I fucking lost it,"

I reached the end of the stairs by the time he was done, now close enough to see that his drenched clothes were leaving small puddles of rain along the hardwood floor. "Roman--"

"--And I just don't want to hurt you, y'know?" He finally looked up to meet my gaze, an unfamiliar emotion swimming in his green eyes. There was a certain desperation about him as his words came out like a stream in a never-ending river; "Because even though we're fighting, you're still in my sweater. And even though you're fucking infuriating, I still want to hold you. No matter what people think, you're good. You're sweet, you're kind, you... There is a sanctity about you in my mind. I really don't want to hurt you, but it's fucking inevitable with me! That's just who I am!"

I was batting away tears at this point; "Rome, please, that's not!--"

"--Of course I like you!" Roman's eyes glossed over, letting his emotions shine through his tough exterior at the sound of his new nickname. "If anything, I adore you half to death, and you doubting that makes me feel like I've failed! I've failed to keep you happy, I've failed to make you feel seen, and I'm just-- I'm a mess!"

Attempting to pat away my tears with the sleeve of Roman's sweater, I sniffled as I realized I was unsuccessful, my tears now spilling down my cheeks. Suddenly, many parts of him made sense to me; after finally letting me hear his true, inner thoughts, I had never seen him more clearly than now. 

Roman sniffled as well, head hanging low in shame. "Why would you want a mess?" he echoed, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you. I really, really don't."

Enough-- It was breaking my heart to hear him so broken. I finally dared to step towards him, slowly reaching for his soaked jacket. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me hang it up in the hallway; "What are you?--"

"Stay the night," I placed myself in front of him, having to get up on my tippytoes to brush his wet hair away from his forehead. "My parents probably won't mind if I ask nicely."

Roman's green eyes rounded out with every soft touch against his skin, and he placed his hands over mine as I cupped his face; it dawned on me that I hadn't felt so calm in a while. "I want to be yours, Rome. In every sense of the word," My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, watching his heavy lids fall over his eyes as he keened against my touch, succumbing to the comfort. "So what if you're a mess? You think I'm not, with the way I've been running around you for months like a dog?"

It warmed my heart to hear him laugh, even if it was for a few seconds-- I knew my eyes weren't deceiving me when I spotted a tear or two heavying down his long lashes, making their way out of hiding. 

I had to bat away my own, my voice barely baring through the sentence; "You're much kinder than you think you are, much more gentle... If only I could make you see it yourself," Getting up to his level was impossible, but I was able to tilt his head down enough for me to place a soft kiss between his brows. "I want us to be together. I want us to at least have each other,"

Roman's breath hitched, letting his hands travel down to rest at my waist as he opened his eyes. revealing an ocean of tears about to spill down his rosy cheeks. "We're going to crash and burn,"

"... Let us, then,"

It was as though time stood still in the moments I waited for signs of a yes. My thumbs stroked over his temples, realizing our chests were rising and falling at the same time, trapping us in one breath, one body. For a second, it felt as though Roman and I melted into each other, the green of his eyes engulfing me with a look that told me everything I needed to know. 

Roman's breath was hot and heavy as he searched for the right words. I was sure he'd said enough dumb things for a lifetime to know he needed to choose wisely for once. But hence, his lips curled up into the sweetest smile known to man as he spoke against mine--

"Let us," he breathed. "Let's burn together, then."

(a/n: if you've come this far, thank u so much omg!! here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9 if you want to check them out!<33 )

[artslovergirl]

red wine supernova

recently divorced!tashi duncan x reader

notes: cw: age gap of 9 years! reader is a girlfailure loser who would sell her soul for one chance with tashi duncan, tashi being a twilight fan mention (tashi duncan weird girl agenda), reader is the biggest tashi apologist ever she does not gaf, artashi caught a stray in this im sorry i promise i love them, commas are just fun accessories to me, if you read all of this i will give kiss ur heart and soul, i love u chappell roan thank u for this song, tashi duncan a girlfriend WILL save you in this

wordcount: 9.6k (omfg)

she was a playboy, brigitte bardot

she showed me things, i didn't know

you met tashi duncan by complete accident. like actually.

you didn't meet her in the stands at a match for any of the new players she's coaching or some fundraiser or gala that only rich people would attend. you met her at the grocery store. you remember it pretty specifically because the memory makes you crumple up in embarrassment every time. 

you turned your shopping cart around the corner, your mind being laser focused on getting green tea because you forgot it last week and you were almost out and you also forgot your grocery list at home which means you’ll inevitably buy everything BUT the stuff that you need and- 

is that tashi donaldson? you stopped in your tracks, it felt like your whole system had been reset. holy shit. that IS her.

she was wearing a tight black top, designer pants with three golden necklaces (that you were sure cost more than your laptop) and her bob was thrown into a short low ponytail.

you felt like a deer in headlights considering that you’d never really met a celebrity before. i mean, you had only gotten into watching tennis a couple of years ago ( at first only because of your stupid ex boyfriend, but now you enjoyed it genuinely…and you enjoyed it as a way to spite him a little too.) but still she counted as a celebrity to you. 

a celebrity you find crazy hot. oh god and of course you looked severely terrible right now. you had just thrown on the first outfit you saw and threw your unwashed hair up with a claw clip. also you had not cared enough to put on shoes and were just wearing slippers.

great. not as if you wearing a cocktail dress and having a blowout would have really changed anything but maybe you did have the fantasy that if you looked hot enough you could seduce this powerful gorgeous rich woman. not that it matters now since that wasn't what was happening at all.

should you say something? no, right? you'd imagine that no one would really want to be disturbed by a fan while shopping for groceries of all things. then again, she didn't even have a shopping cart. or a basket. so maybe it would be fine? what was she even doing here? you highly doubted that you and tashi fucking donaldson were in the same tax bracket.

she should be at erewhon or whatever that store for rich people that get off on paying 30 dollars for bread is called. fuck it, you were gonna say something. you gingerly walked up to her, noting that the closer you got the more intimidating her presence felt. 

“hey, i'm so sorry to bother you but are you tashi d-��� before you could get out the rest of your sentence your gaze fell onto the tabloids that were propped up on the shelf behind her. on the covers stood in big fat neon yellow letters “DONALDSONS DIVORCE? Is this it for the Tennis-IT couple?”

oh, right. divorce. fuck. what is it now…duncan or donaldson? fuck. tashi obviously noticed the sudden break in your sentence and the way your eyes were glued to something behind her. she turned around, saw the unmissable headline, huffed and turned back to you. “just duncan is fine.” she said, staring down at you with an expression you couldn't quite read.

you felt your stomach drop in shame and suddenly really prayed that the floor would open up and just swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to continue embarrassing yourself in front of one of the hottest women you had ever seen.

“right, i'm so sorry, i didn't want to be rude but uh.. that just now made me seem very rude.” you awkwardly stammered, drumming your fingers against the warm plastic handle of your shopping cart. your hands were sweating. 

to your relief she just gave you a small smile and shook her head, “don't worry about it, this isn't the first time this has happened.” you were honestly surprised at her nonchalance. in your mind she could have pulled out a gun and shot you point blank for that and you would've probably forgiven her. 

“ah..yeah..still. sorry. um, i just came over to say that im um..a big fan. i mean, ever since you started coaching hayden and torres, their game totally changed, its insane.” you felt like you were forgetting to breathe because your entire focus was on making a somewhat good impression and hopefully making her forget what just happened.

tashi seemed a little amused by your nervous energy, that's something at least. “thank you, they were already great players just needed some refinement.” she looked you up and down. you felt a shiver run up your body as if her gaze had physically touched you.

“ah, well, yeah, i just mean if you compare this season to last season..um..anyway..” you shifted from foot to foot anxiously. she was so hot. a faint smirk tugged at her lips.

“do you play?” 

“hm?” 

“tennis?”

 “oh!”

you shook your head quickly. “no, no, i'm far too unathletic for that.” you chuckled to divert from the fact that you had been so caught up in mentally drooling over her that you made her specify tennis.

“uh, plus the barrier to entry is a bit too expensive for me. i mean rackets and lessons and all that..” you fiddled with the hem of your worn down sweater. you're pretty sure you've had this sweater since middle school and now you were wearing it while meeting the hottest woman alive. tashi duncans gaze felt like the sun, and for some reason she insisted on making very intense eye contact with you. 

“right. well maybe you can give it a try one day, i think it would suit you.”

does this make you now legally obligated to play tennis? it really feels like it. you feel heat crawl up your neck.

“ha…really?” you sound like you're gasping for air. 

she looked you up and down again. jesus christ. “mhm.” 

okay, well, you were on the verge of passing out and she really wasnt giving you a lot to work here conversation wise so you just squeaked out, “um…do you mind signing something?” she seemed a little surprised for a second like she had forgotten the reason you had come up to her in the first place, but after a short moment she nodded. “sure.” 

you rummaged through your messy bag, trying to find anything signable (yeah, you hadn't really thought asking for a signature through) but luckily you quickly found your daily planner and a random hello kitty pen you genuinely didn't remember buying.

you began thumbing through your planner until you found a blank page and quickly handed the two items to her for her to sign.

you felt awkward just watching her sign so you pretended to browse the aisles with your gaze until the handed the small book and pen back to you.

“thank you so much!” you eagerly took it and stuffed it back in your bag. “sorry for taking up your time.” you chuckled sheepishly.

“its really not a problem. it was nice meeting you.” you were genuinely about to melt into the floor. “u-um..oh! yeah, it was really really nice meeting you too!” you nodded a little too intensely.

you exchanged small waves before you watched her disappear down an aisle. as soon as she was out of earshot you exhaled sharply and you draped your torso over your shopping cart like a ragdoll.

oh my god.

put her canine teeth

in the side of my neck

later that evening (after unpacking your groceries and realizing that you had indeed forgotten to buy green tea) you read through every article written on the donaldson's relationship and recent divorce.

you even paid for the ones hidden behind paywalls.

you felt a little ashamed of it, since you knew a lot of these journalists loved to exaggerate for the sake of drama but you just..wanted to know everything.

and you stumbled across a particular article that left you...gob-smacked for a lack of a better term. it was titled:

‘what really happened at the phil’s tire town challenger?’

you remember vaguely hearing about that a couple months ago...maybe a year ago? but you didn't think much of it at the time. but this? this article revealed everything that was truly beneath the surface of that match.

it revealed relationship entanglements between tashi her (now ex) husband and her ex-boyfriend that led all the way back to 2006. you were honestly a little concerned how they even got this much information.

you should probably be scandalized or shocked or whatever but honestly all you could think was: what a woman. she made two guys play a fucking tennis match not to win the us open juniors singles title but to win her number? what a fucking woman.. 

the next day you opened up your planner to write down an appointment you had just booked when you were greeted by tashi’s signature. before you could swoon and admire her pretty handwriting you noticed something you hadn't seen when haphazardly throwing the planner into your bag earlier. a string of neatly written numbers under her autograph. holy shit. she gave you her number.

i'm in the hallway waitin' for ya

mini skirt and my go-go boots

“is this too short? or like…just short enough?”

you did a small twirl for your roommate, aubrey, who you had been subjecting to a fashion show of different skirts for the past ten minutes.

“show me the back again?” she was half paying attention to you, half scrolling twitter. you turned around. “you cant see my ass right? i don't want to flash her. leave a little mystery y'know.”

she looked up for a second and then nodded, “no, you're good. just pick that one.” you huffed at her lack of taking this seriously. to be fair you hadn't told her that the “recently divorced slightly older woman” you’d be seeing was tashi duncan but still! where’s the support!

you looked back in the mirror…hm…this one did look cute while not showing off too much. also you only had an hour left until the meeting and you still had to put on the rest of the outfit and style your hair, so this one would have to do.

“okay, thanks, love you, bye.” you hurriedly skipped to your room. “hey! you left all your shit all over the floor!” aubrey yelled after you pointing towards the mountain of clothes you had discarded after mixing and matching outfits.

“i'll pick it up later!” you yelled back as you slammed the door behind you and you could faintly hear her responded with a groan. whatever! this was literally the opportunity of a lifetime! you were going on a FUCKING DATE with the hottest woman to ever live who just also happened to be insanely rich and one of the most iconic figures in the tennis world.

you must've been a nurse or a doctor or something equally charitable in a past life to deserve this.

okay, well, to be fair…you weren't 100 percent sure if this was…actually a date? but you also didn't know what else she could possibly mean by meeting. what actual business would she have to discuss with a 24-year old college dropout who doesn't even play tennis?

you had texted a little bit with tashi since that fateful day, three weeks ago, when you discovered her number in your planner. you still had no clue why she gave it to you but you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

the many drafts you had crafted for the first message to her were still in your notes app and looking back on it, each one seemed more pathetic than the last.

the one you ended up sending was okay, not great, but you quickly realized that tashi preferred calling to texting anyway. which suited you just fine because her style of texting was far more formal than you were used to (i.e. she capitalized the appropriate words and used periods at the end of her sentences.)

and it always made you just a tad nervous she was mad at you or something. for about two weeks now, it had almost become routine to receive a call from tashi at exactly 10 pm, which was when she always did her nightly routine.

you knew that because you could always faintly hear her changing into a night robe and applying various lotions and cleansers. it made your heart beat three times faster thinking about the fact that even with how busy she was, she worked to somehow fit you in.

the first calls were..a little clunky and awkward mostly due to the fact that you could barely hear anything she said over the booming sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

but as soon as you made her laugh for the first time all that anxiety seemed to just dissipate. it made you realize she wasn't asking you to perform for her, and she seemingly enjoyed you the way you are.

after that, each conversation flowed much easier and even though you seemingly didn't have much in common on the surface, you found yourselves talking for an hour every night.

the topics didn't matter, because every topic was exciting and made you giggle and kick your feet as long as you were talking about it with her. 

you sat down at your desk and examined yourself in the small vanity mirror that stood on it. you huffed and quickly began messing around with your hair and touching up your makeup until you were finally satisfied with the results.

and then right on time your phone started buzzing aggressively on your small desk, effectively scaring the shit out of you, with a reminder that you had to leave like right now to catch the subway.

you checked yourself out in the mirror one last time. you took a deep breath. okay..okay..you looked good. hot. super hot definitely. hot enough to go on a date with tashi duncan? well, no, no one would ever achieve such a thing but you got close enough.

you grabbed your small purse and rushed out of your room to quickly strap on your heels in the hallway. as you shut the front door behind you, you heard aubrey shout after you “good luck, hope you get fingered!”

a girl can dream.

okay, really, you didn't need to be running.

you had left with like 20 minutes buffer time to get to her place just in case something went wrong but..you somehow needed to get that pent up anxiety out lest you end up vomiting it all out later.

but as you began booking it down your street towards the subway station a loud honking violently stopped you in your tracks.

you automatically whipped your head around to look for the origin of the noise. there was a sleek black car parked right in front of your shitty but overpriced new york apartment complex. there's no way that belonged to anyone living here. you were a little tempted to keep running since this seemed sketchy as hell.

the car honked again and the driver leaned out the window, he was dressed in some kind of uniform? “i’m here to pick you up for miss duncan?” he raised a brow like he wasn't sure if you were really the one he was here for.

maybe because you were staring at him like you’d never seen a chauffeur before. huh. now that you think about it, you actually had never seen a chauffeur before.

“oh..um..tashi duncan?” you almost whispered like it was a secret that needed to be kept. he gave you a look. rude.

“yes. tashi duncan.” he replied. “um..i don't mean to be rude but is there like..confirmation for that? because..i don't just want to get in some guy's car.”

the driver already seemed fed up with you. at that moment your phone buzzed again but this time with a text message from none other than the woman of your dreams. 

“I sent you a ride. I think the subway is far too dangerous for you to take this late.” 

talk about timing. you looked up from your phone and shot the driver an apologetic smile as you quickly clambered into the backseat.

wow, this is a fancy ass car. and it had that weird new car smell. you knew that most people liked it but it just made you dizzy for some reason.

now that you didn't have to worry about arriving on time, you could stop freaking out about that and instead freak out about the fact that..

holy shit, she sent a car for you! you weren't quite sure if this was like a for real chauffeur or just a very fancy uber but you didn't care because it just made you so giddy. like this was definitely confirmation that this was a date, right? right? yes, totally…possibly! 

it was also a little exciting to receive this kind of treatment, especially from a woman like her. 

shortly before you arrived you checked your reflection in the car's tinted window. you pulled out your shimmery cherry scented lip gloss and applied it generously until you could see your lips shine. perfect!

breathe in, breathe out, this will go fine. this will go perfectly. you gave yourself an encouraging nod (and immediately cringed at yourself for it.) 

you mumbled a quick thanks to the driver and quickly got out as soon as the car slowed to a stop. your 2 inch heeled boots could be heard clacking against the pavement as you walked towards probably the most luxurious apartment complex you had ever seen.

it was very much “insanely wealthy recent divorcee” chique.

then you noticed the door man who was already looking at you a little weirdly, probably because you had stumbled towards the apartment like a newborn fawn.

“um, hello.” you gave a polite smile. “i’m um..here to visit tashi duncan?” you didn't know why you phrased it like a question, you should really be more assertive, this was all just so unusual for you.

“right. youre miss y/ln?” your heart fluttered..because this meant she had informed him prior to your visit and that this was all real and happening. “yes.” you nodded quickly and even showed your ID even though he insisted it really wasn't necessary. 

on the elevator ride up you could feel anxiety in the form of nausea burrow itself through your stomach lining. oh, god. this would be fine. ding. the doors opened. 

you were immediately enveloped by the warm scent of cinnamon mixed with fresh laundry and expensive perfume. that scent seemed to go through your nose and slowly invade each part of your body until it softly curled up in your heart, making you yearn to never smell anything but this ever again. you took a cautious step out of the elevator and took in your surroundings. 

it wasn't a surprise that this apartment was maybe…5 times the size of yours? maybe 6? it seemed huge from just the size of the entryway. the color scheme was quite neutral, with a lot of white and earthy tones which you could appreciate.

it gave everything a sense of calm and comfort. it was well-decorated too, which you had already expected but evidence of her having good taste only made you even more attracted to her. 

you must've spaced out because all of a sudden the woman herself stood in front of you. and she was an absolute vision. the soft warm lights of the apartment bathed her in its glow making her dainty golden jewelry glimmer, her short gently curled locks fell around her defined face like a silk curtain, her skin shimmered like fresh morning dew and the pearl colored dress she wore accentuated her chest and wrapped around her hips like honey. 

“hey.” she smiled softly as she took a step closer. you were NOT gods strongest soldier in this moment. or any moment. but especially this one.

all the nerves you had gotten over during the phone calls returned full force now that she actually stood in front of you, looking like a muse. you weren't sure if you could handle all that to be perfectly frank.

“h..hi. thank you for..sending the ride.” you stammered out in a low breath. “i wasn't really looking forward to having to endure the smell of urine for an hour on the subway..” you continued just because the silence made you nervous. 

“it’s no problem. i figured as much. plus i couldn't possibly make you take the subway to our first date, hm?” she said it like that sentence alone didn't put you at serious risk for spontaneous combustion.

so this was a date! you didn't even notice but you were absolutely beaming at her. “oh..well..yeah, um..thank you, anyway.” your front teeth caught your bottom lip in their grasp. you could feel her slender fingers wrap around your wrist and she gently led you through her apartment, you weren't sure where to.

but you didn't care, wherever she wanted you to be that's where you would go. “you have really good taste..like..decorating wise and stuff” your voice was still shaky but you were feeling a bit more at ease now that she had confirmed that this was in fact a date. 

she looked back at you over her shoulder. “you like it?” she smiled. “yeah!” you nodded a little too eagerly, “it's very..hm..calming. i think. and very chique.” she let out a bemused exhale through her nose at your use of the word ‘chique’. “i appreciate it.” she assured you with a small glimmer of something in her eyes.

i just want you to make a move

so slow down, sit down, it's new

in the center of her spacious dining room stood a circular glass table which was set up beautifully with candles flickering gently while they illuminated the two plates that you could now see carried your favorite dinner. (huh, so that's why she asked you about that yesterday.) the plates were accompanied by two wine glasses and a small dish of creme brulee set to the side. 

you were honest to god speechless. i mean… i mean , what do you even say in this situation. the fact that this woman was evidently just as enamored with you as you were with her was something you still had difficulty comprehending.

everything moved so quickly and yet at the same time these past two weeks felt like they stretched over months.

she gently led you towards the chair, you could feel the gentle pressure of her hand against the small of your back. you tried to remember to breathe.

you took a seat and she headed over to the counter that connected her dining room and kitchen. she grabbed the two wine bottles that you hadn't even noticed until that very moment.

she held them up and asked, “red wine or white?” to be truthful, you had never really drunk wine before. you vaguely remember having it once on your 20th birthday, but not ever since. that made you feel a little immature, so instead of admitting this you just blurted out, “white?” out of sheer panic.

she nodded and carried both bottles over to the table and poured white wine in your glass and red wine in hers. looking at the glasses you secretly wondered if this meant kissing her later would now taste like rosé. 

as she took her seat across from you the candlelight highlighted her face in the most flattering way, defining her sharp features while somehow softening them at the same time as she sat before you.

one thing that was the exact same in real life as it was on tv and photos, was tashi's intense gaze. at first it made you anxious but now it simply excited you. you almost reveled in it. you wanted her gaze to be on you. to pin you down. 

“i have one rule for tonight.” she spoke up after taking a sip of her wine. your eyes widened a little, like a curious fox you tilted your head to prompt her to continue. “no tennis talk.” she said with a certain seriousness. oh. phew. that you could certainly handle. and it wasn't very surprising either. most people didn't enjoy shop-talk during dates.

“that is gonna be no problem for me.” you chuckled with slight relief. “i mean, not that i would really have that much to say about it anyway. i'm more of a casual fan anyway.” you shot her a quick sheepish grin, quietly fidgeting with the hem of your miniskirt under the table. 

you could see a faint smile play on her lips in response. silence could only fill the room for a mere second before you spoke again, “i kind of have to admit um..i’m a little nervous.”

to say that you were stating the obvious was an understatement.

“i could tell. you don't have to be.” she reached over and gently ran a finger over the back of your hand, tracing your veins. you shivered.

“i know, it’s just…i don't know. i want this to go well.” you nervously looked up to meet her gaze. “it will.” she hummed.

“we’ll just talk, like on the phone.” her voice was like a soothing balm to your pounding heart. “yeah, but it's different. like..being here. a..and..i..”

should you admit it? you were almost sure she wouldn't care, yet you were riling yourself up about it. she raised a brow. “i've never really..like i don't have any experience with women.”

she intertwined your hand with hers. “that's okay, i mean, the last time i was with a girl was like..college.” she chuckled wryly.

she continued, “really, that doesn't matter to me. i just wanna get to know you.” she reassured you as she squeezed your hand. in that moment she made you feel so seen and so safe with such ease that you wanted to cry a little.

but obviously, you wouldn't, because that would be supremely lame to do on a first date..okay, tearing up did not count! (thankfully she did you the kindness of not pointing it out.)

i like, i like, what you like, what you like

long hair, no bra, that's my type, that's right

after her reassurance, your nervousness started to slowly ebb away and your conversation started to flow more naturally again.

the dinner was long done by this point and you now sat next to her on the couch with your legs almost touching hers. you were already feeling a small buzz in your system that led to you feeling very giggly as you sipped on your second glass of white wine.

tashi was currently recounting the story of her first and last frat party she went to at stanford, to be honest, you were only paying half attention. you tried very hard (really, you did) to not stare at her lips but it was getting harder and harder the more tipsy you got and you were definitely laughing way too much at her story to overcompensate.

you knew she noticed because she leaned a little closer, her arm leaning on the backrest of the couch, “you are not listening to me at all right now.” she huffed playfully, a smirk dancing over the very soft-looking lips.

“what?” you giggled and subtly shifted so her thighs were fully touching yours now. “no, i'm listening.” you tried so hard not to grin but the way she was looking at you just made you want to smile and giggle and kick your feet.

“what did i just say then?” she raised a brow and leaned even closer. you could smell her perfume and it made you dizzy. “uh…umm..” you scrunched up your nose in thought. “some guy..did..something?”

she rolled her eyes but you could tell she was only teasing, “good guess.”

“what, so youre gonna tell me i'm wrong?” you challenged playfully. “i’m saying you're not paying attention.” she hummed, her hand reaching out to gently play with your hair which made you feel the urge to curl up in her lap like a cat.

ooh, okay, you were gonna go for it now because you were justttt tipsy enough to not cringe at yourself flirting. you leaned forward, you could feel her breath on your cheek, “can you blame me?” you muttered, now unabashedly staring at her lips.

she seemed caught off guard by your sudden forwardness but she certainly didn't seem to mind it. her head tilted down a little until her nose brushed yours, “i guess not.” she grinned like she knew she had you in the palm of her hand. and she was right.

you wanted to kiss her so bad in this moment that if she asked for it, you were certainly not above getting on your knees and begging. your fingertips trailed over her thigh and you were looking up at her with the most pathetic ‘please kiss me’ eyes you could manage.

apparently that worked on her because before you could form another thought you felt her lips brush yours and everything in your mind screeched to a halt. your breath hitched and you eagerly reciprocated, the hand resting on her thigh tensing slightly.

you could feel her ringer-clad fingers travel down to your waist and squeeze gently which elicited the most embarrassing whimper out of you.

you could feel her smile into the kiss in response. subconsciously almost, you leaned even closer to press against her like you were trying to mold yourself to fit against her body like a puzzle piece.

one of your hands tentatively traced over her chest. you already knew she wasn't wearing a bra, since her dress had very thin straps but exposed no bra straps. but to actually somewhat feel it through the silky fabric clinging to her curves felt life-altering.

her other hand began to reach up to gently caress the back of your head, tangling her fingers in your hair, to draw you closer into the kiss. 

you weren't sure if it was because she was older and more experienced or if it was because you'd never kissed a woman before or maybe everyone you've ever made out with before her sucked but if you were honestly not sure if you could ever kiss anyone but her again after this.

it was like she had been given a manual on you and your body and she knew every single button she had to press to make you gasp and yearn for more. it could also be because she could probably do anything and you’d find it hot.

the kiss turned messier and deeper, your noses were bumping and smushing against each other and you were pretty sure some of her hair was caught in the kiss at one point but neither of you realized nor cared.

all you could think of, all you could feel, all you could smell, all you could hear was tashi. she was everything and everywhere. it was like anything outside of this moment suddenly didn't exist anymore.

until she pulled back. without even realizing it, your lips chased after hers for one last kiss before allowing it to end. it was only then that you noticed how out of breath you truly were. you inhaled shakily. her hand rested on your neck, rubbing gentle circles with her fingers. you couldn't meet her gaze without giggling.

but at least you weren't alone, as she couldn't stop grinning either. you leaned your forehead against her shoulder, tilting your head slightly so you could look up at her.

your entire body felt like it was radiating warmth, but it felt nice. you let out another bashful chuckle, “is the first date too early to say that i really like you?”

tashi’s heart jumped at your words. ha, like? she couldnt remember the last time she had heard someone say they ‘really liked’ her. maybe college? but after a near decade of a marriage that fizzled out as pathetically as a candle in the rain, she found herself excited at the prospect. she found herself excited in general actually, which had almost become a foreign feeling to her these past few years.

all the heart-pounding, late-night calls, first kisses, she hadn't realized until this moment how much she had truly yearned for this feeling again. the feeling of something fresh, of a beginning, of something exciting, of you.

you made her feel a sudden spark of connection to a part of herself she had thought died back on the court at stanford along with her career.

you made her feel like tashi duncan. and after 8 years of being tashi donaldson, she fucking craved that.

“i dont think there's a rule for that.” as she looked down at you, her smile was still as present as ever. “but i really like you too.”

by the time you left her apartment complex it was already midnight. you two had spent the time mostly talking, making out some more, finally checking the time, being walked out by her, getting distracted and making out some more in her entryway, and then actually leaving with two new lovebites on your neck.

the doorman from earlier gave you a knowing look as you stumbled out of the elevator which you did not appreciate. tashi paid for some fancy uber to drive you home again and as soon as you got home you let yourself collapse onto your bed basking in the lingering buzz of tashi's touch spreading through each and every cell in your body. you squeaked and giggled into your pillow.

“so. did it happen?” you sat up in surprise as your roommate suddenly appeared in your doorway. it was like she faded into rooms sometimes with how quiet she was. “i told you to knock.” you complained. “also did what happen?” you raised a brow.

“did you..” she made a crude gesture with her hand. “man, get out!” you threw a plushie at her as she quickly retreated back into the living room, snickering to herself. 

well, back at my house

i got a california king

okay, maybe it's a twin bed

and some roommates, don't worry we're cool!

“no, she’s out for the night.” you mumbled in answer tashi’s question about your roommates whereabouts while continuing to jiggle your keys as you struggled with unlocking the door.

you’d called your landlord 6 times already on this piece of shit lock and how it was near impossible to open without brute force, he promised to fix it…take a wild guess if he ever did.

so now said lock was embarrassing you in front of your girlfriend (well, you had started calling her that in your head but were too cowardly to actually ask) because it was kind of making it look like you had lied about having an apartment and were now trying to break into some other persons place.

“this stupid thing never works..” you grumble. you shot her an apologetic look, “sorry, the locks kinda finicky.”

with one more brutal tug (one that really hurt your hand a lot but you were going to pretend like it didn't because for some reason you still wanted to impress her) the lock finally clicked and the door opened. you sighed in relief.

“its a pretty small place.” you said as you let her into your apartment and shut the door behind her. you knew she wouldn't care and she had assured you that so many times. plus you couldnt meet up at her place like you had the last few months because apparently her ex-husband was there currently for whatever reason.

you werent really keen on meeting him, nor was tashi it seems. as you walked down the narrow hallway, leading her to your room you suddenly shrieked and jumped back into tashi’s chest in shock. she instinctively caught you and put her arms around you which would have made your heart flutter under normal circumstances but right now your heart was preoccupied trying to regain its normal rhythm.

“what the hell!” you groaned, holding your chest recovering from the jumpscare of your roommate sitting on the couch. she looked up. “oh, whats up.” she nodded to you and then nodded to tashi, “hey, im aubrey.”

before tashi could greet her back you interrupted, “aubrey! what the hell are you doing home, you said you’d be out for the night!” you said in a tone mixed between anger and whining. “felix got food poisoning.” she shrugged, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “what? is he okay?” your eyes furrowed in concern. “yeah, he’s cool. he got dared to eat gas station sushi.” “what? that's-” you looked back at tashi realizing that this conversation made your friends seem a little childish.

“whatever just…do you have to be here right now?” you huffed. “chill, im not gonna cockblock you.” usually you loved your roommate but right now you wanted to strangle her.

“oh-kay.” you gave up, covered your face in embarrassment and quickly dragged tashi to your room before aubrey could make things even worse with her crudeness and her propensity for embarrassing you in front of guests.

you slammed the door shut with your foot. “sorry, that's..uh my roommate..she’s…yeah.” tashi chuckled, rubbing her thumb over your wrist in the way that always soothed you. “relax, okay? i'm not gonna start clutching my pearls.”

you exhaled through your noise and nodded, “right, yeah, i was just caught off guard. i wanted us to be alone.” you sighed, leaning your head on her shoulder.

she was a bit taller than you, especially in heels, which you really liked. “we are alone.” she pressed a kiss to you earlobe. “you know what i mean!” you groaned.

once again she seemed amused by your tendency for dramatics when in distress. “also the walls are thin.” you pouted. “well, we don't always have to-” “yeah but i wanted to!” she looked over her shoulder at your bed, “you have a twin bed” she snorted.

“so? we could've made it work.”

“i'm sorry baby but as soon as i left college i vowed to never have sex in a twin bed again” she laughed lowly.

“youre mean.” you whined into the crook of her neck. “mhm..” she gave your back a small pat, “now c'mon, you promised a room tour remember?”

you raised your head to give her a look, reaching out your arm to gesture at the small space. “what's there to give a tour of? this thing is a shoebox.”

“don't be like that. cmonnn~” she nudged you with her elbow. ugh, you were nothing if not weak for her. “fine.” you cleared your throat to get into your best ‘real estate agent voice’.

“over here is the “walk-in closet”-” you made air quotes with your fingers. “-but you can really only stand in it. also the door hinge is broken so the door doesn't close.” you demonstrated by pushing the door which wouldn't budge. “this-” you pointed to the woven hamper-like chest that stood at the foot of your bed, “is where i keep like..everything i couldn't fit anywhere else. not interesting.” you shrug.

“i dont know, sounds interesting to me..” you looked back at tashi, she was leaning against your creaky wooden desk and was looking at you in that way that always made your legs shaky.

she looked at you like you were the most interesting, entertaining thing in the world, with her gaze warm and her lips quirked up in a soft smile.

“what?” you said as you narrowed your eyes at her, “stop that.” you forced yourself to look away from her.

“stop what?” she leaned her torso forward with a teasing smirk.

“the look.”

“what look?”

“tashi.” you stepped in between her legs and glared. her slightly crooked front tooth showed as she grinned, “what i cant look at my girlfriend?”

FULL STOP. full. stop. did she just call you her girlfriend? oh, how the heavens have smiled upon you this day, truly. from the woman herself, you were officially tashi duncan's fucking GIRLFRIEND.

the shock must've been extremely visible on your face because she tilted her head in confusion a little, “what?” you snap out of the celebration you had been holding in your brain and stumble over yourself a little, “huh? no, nothing-”

your voices overlap as tashi says, “are we not?-” “no, we are!” “because i thought-” “no, no, we are, we are!”

no way in hell you were gonna let tashi think you didnt want to be her girlfriend, actually no fucking way!

there's a short moment of silence. “we just never talked about it. so i wasn't sure. but i really want it. like want you. like i really want to be your girlfriend,” you couldn't get the words out fast enough.

tashi chuckled softly as she shook her head, “i thought we made it official on the fifth date?” you giggled in surprise, “what? i would've remembered that!” “we were talking about exes-” “mhm..” “and then you asked if i felt ready for a new relationship already and i said yes.”

you blinked, “okay but thats not making it official.” she huffed out a small laugh, “what did you need me to spell it out?” “...yes?” she pulled you in closer by your waist, “mh, fine, then..” she paused for dramatic effect, “...will you be my girlfriend?”

you snickered, “do you feel very high-school right now?” she let out a dry laugh, “i feel super high-school but i'm willing to do that for you.”

you wrapped your arms around her neck, “and i'm very appreciative. i would love to be your girlfriend.” you smiled into the kiss. yeah, you’d also agree to marry her this very second if she asked but obviously you weren't gonna tell her that. that seemed more like a tenth date conversation.

after almost convincing tashi to break her rule about having sex in a twin bed but ultimately having your roommate ruin the mood by blasting some horror movie in the living room you decided to just put a movie on yourself.

the bed was a little cramped but eventually you managed to find a comfy position with half of your body draped over her chest, your head resting on her shoulder and her head leaning against yours.

the laptop rested on your thighs as you scrolled through netflix trying to find anything interesting to watch with her. you felt her body shift a little bit when you hovered over a specific movie.

you chuckled looking up at her, “twilight?” “oh, i mean, if you want.” she shrugged trying to feign nonchalance. “do you want?” you raised your brows teasingly.

"i don't care.”

“mhhh..i think you do.” you sat up with a shiteating grin.

“i think somebody had a twilight phase…”

she snorted and glanced to the side, knowing she had been caught red-handed. “i was like 20 when the movie came out, thats silly.”

“mhm. did you read the book?”

silence.

“knew it. caught you!  i caught you. give it up.” you nudged her shoulder. she rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her amusement, “yeah, fine, i had a twilight phase, whatever.”

you bounced up and down a little in excitement, pretty much beaming. you didn't know why it pleased you so much. maybe it was the fact that you felt this bonded you both in some way. it wasn't only because you too, had a twilight phase, no, it was more the fact that it hinted at something you had been secretly suspecting.

that natasha “tashi” duncan was in fact a massive dork. just like you. although she was admittedly far better at hiding it. 

you certainly had this image when you first met her that tashi was akin to a statue. like you could look at her from every angle but you would not be able to find even the smallest crack in the marble. not the slightest hair out of place. not a single imperfection to be found. but the more you got to know her, the more the marble chipped away. but instead of leaving an empty hole behind, it revealed something better. it revealed her. with every imperfection she had, with every bad thing she’s ever done, with every odd habit or quirk, with everything that made her real.

“we’re watching twilight then.” you said with finality and laid back down next to her. “we really don't have to.” “oh, yes, we really do.” 

one more fun-fact you learned about her that night was that she was an extremely heavy sleeper. like. like it was crazy.

she had fallen asleep against you about halfway through the movie which you thought was extremely cute and you took like 20 pictures all while trying not to move so as to not wake her.

which apparently was not necessary at all because when you accidentally sneezed so hard it shook the mattress you instantly looked at her with worry expecting her to wake up. but no. nothing. not even an eye twitch. so. obviously. you needed to conduct an experiment.

you paused the movie and untangled yourself from her embrace. you lightly shook her shoulder. “tashi…tashiiii..” you mumbled. once again nothing.

“tashi!” nope.

and..well, youre not proud of how you got here but after a row of attempts to wake her you were standing in front of your bed holding two pots in either hand about to bang them together.

but before that could happen tashi slowly stirred and opened her eyes. she furrowed her brows at the sight that greeted her “what the hell are you doing?” you hid the pots behind your back as if she hadn't already seen them.

“nothing.”

“were you trying to wake me. by banging pots together?” she sounded genuinely offended by how stupid that idea was.

“no?”

silence.

“you're a really heavy sleeper.”

“if you wanted to wake me you could've just set an alarm.”

“you'll wake up from alarm but not from someone shaking you?”

“you were shaking me?”

“no?” … “yes, okay, i'm sorry, i love you. it was done out of at least 50 percent concern i promise.”

she groaned and placed her hands over her face. you placed the pots on the ground and crawled back in bed with her.

“don't be mad?” you pouted, peppering kisses over her neck until she broke with a small laugh, “okay, okay, stop, i forgive you.”

she gently pushed you off. you sat up.

“i promise to never do it again. i was just..very surprised how heavy of a sleeper you are.” you began playing with her fingers. “you seem really tired, though. do you wanna sleep over?” you mumbled softly.

she took a moment to think about her schedule for tomorrow. “if you promise to not wake me with anything but an alarm clock.” “pinky promise.” you linked your pinkies and she smiled. 

you felt your heart ache for domesticity as you felt tashi softly breathing next to you, her warm body pressed up against every part of you due to the lack of space in your bed. she was wearing your pyjamas and her skin smelled faintly of your lotion. 

and weirdly enough, in the morning, tashi was the one to wake you up.

baby, why don't you come over?

red wine supernova

“are you sure you're ready?” tashi asked for the ten thousandth time as she clipped in her cartier earrings. “yes! what can i do to convince you that i am?” you pouted her, wrapping your finger around her wrist and swaying her arm gently.

“it's not that I'm not convinced, it's just that i'm worried about how cool you’re being.” she glanced at you from her peripheral. “are you saying i'm not normally cool? you really know how to hurt a girls feelings.” you dramatically placed the back of your hand against your forehead.

“hey, im being serious.” she suddenly said.

you dropped your hand. “i know, sorry. i promise i'm ready, and plus i don't think people will care that much anyway..right? i mean it's been like almost a year and a half since the divorce.”

you brushed some hair out of her face. it was longer now than it was when you first met her and darker too ever since she decided to let her natural brunette roots grow out.

“yes, but still, for whatever reason people were very invested in that whole thing and i don't want you to get dragged into a repeat.“ genuine concern shimmered in her cinnamon colored eyes.

“i want people to know about us. even if it'll lead to weird gossip articles. i don't care about that. i've met art, i've met lily, and their opinions mattered far more than the publics.” you tried to reassure her gently, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“i know, but-”

“we don't have to if you're not ready.” you interrupt her. you have been with tashi for almost a year now. 10 months, 2 weeks and 5 days. not that you were counting.

but because of that, you and her have decided to finally make your relationship public. not with an announcement or anything obviously, you would just be accompanying her to a fundraiser thrown by the donaldson foundation.

but this was still a big deal because ever since the challenger in new rochelle, journalists have been far too invested in tashi’s personal affairs, and that only worsened with the divorce.

you hugged her from behind and gently kissed up her neck until you felt the tension in her shoulders dissolve.

“but i feel like keeping it secret is stressing you out.” you glanced at her furrowed brow through the mirror.

“it is. i don't want it to be out of my control. i mean, i don't want people to be in my business at all but if they are going to be anyway i at least want to be in control of the story.” she said firmly, you hummed empathetically. “so, then..let’s go?”

she nodded, “yeah, lets go.” 

you nervously wrung your hands together the closer the car got to the venue were the fundraiser was held. tashi gave you a questioning look.

“now that you're not freaking out, i think it transferred to me," you chuckle shakily.

“you want to go back home?”

“no, no, its not that bad. just jitters.” you quickly shook your head. “are you sure?”

“i’m sure!”

“okay, well, tell me if that changes, okay?”

oh, and in that moment you were once again reminded of how much she cared for you that you felt the space you had carved out in your heart for her glow.

you smiled and pressed a short kiss to her lips, “yes, promise.”

the venue was extremely fancy that even though tashi had bought a dress for you just for this event you still felt underdressed.

it wasn't very flashy or anything but you don't think you've ever been in a room with this many rich people at once and that alone sent an itch of discomfort through your skin.

you felt a little bit like everyone could tell you didn't belong here and usually you wouldn't care because its true. this was not your scene.

but you cared now, because this was tashi’s  life. these kinds of events were a part of her in some way. and you wanted to be able to fit into that part of her. but now that you were here…what if you couldn't? what if you just couldn't do it? what if she realized you weren't fit for her life and she found someone that was? what if-

you felt tashi’s warm hand rest on your waist with a familiar pressure and your doubts were quickly muffled. you were sure they would come back full-force later, leading to you spending hours tossing and turning in bed before giving up at around 2 am and just binging your comfort shows all night long.

but right now, they were quiet, and you had tashi to thank for that.

“well, that was..” you tried to look for something nice to say. “boring.” tashi finished your sentence. “oh my god, yes! so boring!” you groaned, feeling instant relief that you didn't have to put up a front of genuinely enjoying the event.

tashi chuckled, pulling you in closer by your hip as you walked back out to the car. “i was expecting more drama.” you hummed. “at a fundraiser for new courts?” she raised a brow with the corners of her lips quirked up.

“no, well, yes, i mean because of us.”

“oh, well, that'll come. just not tonight. they would never say shit like that to my face.”

tashi had introduced you as her partner if the question came up, which you had thought would have been more exciting for you than it turned out to be.

yes, you were happy people would now know you as 'tashi duncan’s girlfriend'. thrilled, honestly, you would have shouted it from the rooftops after your first date if you could've.

but you realized that to the tennis world..that's really all you wanted to be. you didn't want people to know you, or your name, or get to know you through small-talk at boring galas and events.

because truthfully, none of this was you. you didn't know enough about tennis or the donaldson foundation to hold a proper conversation with any of these people.

and unlike earlier, you were content with that realization now because of what tashi had said to you earlier in the evening, when you managed to get away from the constant barrage of small talk and questions to step outside for just a moment. 

you sighed in relief as the cool night air filled your lungs, replacing the stuffy polished floor air from the venue. “you're too worried about impressing those people.” tashi started.

you turned your head towards her. “i want to leave a good impression.” you defend. you didn't want to embarrass her.

“i know. but it's..hard. watching you force yourself like that.” yikes. that one felt like a swift kick in the stomach.

you had never been very good at keeping a poker face so she quickly followed up, “i just meant…i don't want you to do that. you don't need to do that.” you absent-mindedly fiddled with your necklace, “what do you mean?” 

“all my relationships this far have been connected to tennis. and i thought that was good..or at least made sense. tennis has been the focal point of my life since i was 5 so, of course, it would find its place in my relationships too.” she leaned her hands against the railing,

“but it was like this..all-consuming thing. my identity was tied to not only tennis but also my relationships that had been forged through it.” she paused trying to think of how to best articulate herself.

“i think i lost a part of myself through that.” she murmured. “and i'm just about finding it again, and you have been so helpful in that, you dont even know.”

she looked at you with a weight of sincerity you felt sink into your heart.

“so i don't want you to change, or us to change. i don't need you to be art. i don't need you to be anyone you're not.” you were honestly speechless and you feared that you would burst into tears right now if you tried to muster up a response.

so you just quietly nodded (eyes getting misty despite your best efforts), took her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist before pulling her into a gentle embrace. 

you knew who you wanted to be to the public, and you knew who you wanted to be to her colleagues. you just wanted to be her pretty (perhaps controversially young?) girlfriend who really had only the most basic understanding of tennis and nothing else.

her thumb rubbed gently over the tennis bracelet that adorned your wrist which snapped you out of your thoughts.

she had given it to you as a present for your 6 month anniversary and you had immediately burst into tears babbling about how much you loved it and her and the universe for bringing you two together. (you were a little drunk)

god, what she wouldn't do to have a video of that night. by her expression you could already tell she was preparing to tease you about it.

“hey, do you remember-”

you let out an exasperated sigh, “yes, i do. stop reminding me.”

you could hear her snicker a little bit and you glared, “stop laughing.”

“i’m not!” she lied while actively laughing. unfortunately her laughter was pretty infectious so you soon joined with your own cacophony of giggles. 

your joined duet of laughter could be heard by guests leaving the fundraiser as it echoed through the quiet parking lot.

fall right into me.

“hey, look, i'm your rebound.” you grinned happily as you held up a tabloid that had a picture that was taken by some pap last week of you and tashi after your date with the headline:

“TASHI DUNCAN’S ON A REBOUND?”

tashi just rolled her eyes with an amused smile. “good for you, baby.” she gave you a small pat on the ass. “i know, i'm really moving up in the world.” you joked as you threw the magazine in the shopping cart. she gave you a look. “what? i wanna see what it says!”