#the interview is a little awkward but fascinating

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Fifteen

— Little Big Aftermath [aka the end]

Series Masterlist

wc: 3k

we’ve made it to the end guys! I just have to say I never thought I’d complete this story and that too fifteen parts of it but to all those who read it and motivated me to keep writing, thank you. While it is the end of the official story, I will continue to take requests for blurbs on specific scenes you’d like to see. However, there won’t be a set posting date on these blurbs, it’ll be out whenever it’s requested and completed. Once again, thank you so much for those who were here since the first chapter, and here’s to more fic series in the future. P.S lemme know if you want to be tagged in the blurbs.

Your frown grew deeper as you turned in the direction your daughter had pointed, unfortunately spotting Tyler. Luckily, he wasn't looking at you two since he was focusing on the podium celebrations about to happen.

"I didn't know daddy was here, mama." Picking Isabella up, you shook your head, "I didn't know either, angel, but let's focus on Max for now okay?"

She gave a nod of agreement and applauded for the drivers, Oscar and Lando in particular, who finished second and third in the race. She did, however, cheer the loudest when Max, as he has done after almost every race this season, stepped onto the top step of the podium.

He was having trouble finding you and Isabella right away in the crowd, and you could see the slightest frown forming on his face until a smile emerged when he succeeded, connecting his gaze with yours.

Isabella giggled as Max held his hand up to wave at her before blowing a kiss in the air in your direction. His behaviour drew Lando and Oscar's attention to you as well, with the former driver rolling his eyes at Max jokingly and Oscar smiling at the interaction.

However, you didn't realize that someone else was also looking at you because your gaze didn't waver away from Max.

The champagne bottles were popped, and this time Isabella was awake to see it all, watching with fascination as it was the first time she was able to see it in person. "I wanna do that, mama," she pointed at the drivers spraying the alcoholic drink, soaking each other's race suits while laughing. "Maybe when you're older, Bella."

"When I'm 7?" She asked, and you chuckled, "a little more than that, sweetheart."

Once the celebrations were over, a huge part of the crowd dispersed, the teams resuming to their usual scheduled routines, preparing for post-race debriefs and other meetings. "Where's Maxy going?" Isabella asked, watching as he was led away by someone clad in a RedBull uniform.

"He's a little busy with interviews, but he told me that he'd come back as soon as he's done," you explained, knowing that Max had a post-race conference and a few other duties lined up.

Isabella huffed, "but he won the race." She rested her head on your shoulder for a moment while playing with a strand of your hair—the habit formed back when she was a few months old.

"Yeah he did, which means he's very famous right now and so many people want to talk to him," you explained and while she nodded in understanding, she still pouted, "I wanna talk to him too."

"Why don't we wait for him inside his driver's room?" You asked, turning around when she nodded.

You had almost reached Max's driver room—a place he had suggested for you and Isabella to stay to wait for him, but pausing in a secluded area as a familiar voice called out, "Isabella!" then heard your name as well. Isabella squirmed in your lap, wanting to get down after seeing Tyler walk up to you both. You sighed, knowing that you'd have to stop and chat.

"Tyler," you greeted, and awkwardness hung in the air for two seconds before Isabella decided to speak up. "Daddy, you said you were busy, what are you doing here?"

Despite her hesitance to stay at her father's place, which she still hasn't done since the day she was discharged from the hospital, she frequently spoke to him over the phone.

Unfortunately for him, Isabella rarely forgets promises. While he was busy playing the "good father" role after your ultimatum, he had make false promises, agreeing to everything she asked for without hearing her out properly. In that conversation, she asked about the promise he made of taking her to a race before she had met Max.

While you and Max had taken her once, she still wanted to experience the thrill with her father since he was the one who introduced the sport to her.

He glanced at you, silently asking if he did in fact claim that he was busy, and frowned when you nodded. "Oh Bella, sweetheart, I didn't know that I would have the time to be here, it was an unexpected decision or else I would've brought you along, but you're here anyways!" He tried to uplift her mood, but instead of hanging on to every word he spoke like she used to do, she just shrugged.

Deciding to divert the topic of conversation, Tyler asked, "did you enjoy the race?" He stepped forward, kneeling down to be closer to her but on instinct, Isabella moved away, clutching on to your hand tightly.

He frowned, once again glancing up at you after noticing her behaviour, but you didn't let an ounce of emotion show on your face. "I'm so happy Maxy won!" She exclaimed, her mood improving for a moment as she thought about him.

Standing up to his full height, Tyler looked at you, "why don't we sit and chat for a moment?" Pressing your lips together in a tight smile, you replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."

He scoffed, then shrugged, "fine, have it your way like always." You were not in the mood to indulge his stupid comments which would eventually lead to an argument, in fact you were here to enjoy the weekend with your boyfriend who you dearly missed in this moment.

His eyes widened briefly when you didn't respond to his comment, wondering how you changed so much in a matter of a few weeks that you couldn't care less about him anymore.

"Hey Bella, why don't you show daddy the caps that you got?" You prompted another topic, that Isabella quickly agreed to. Tyler's gaze remained on you for a moment, understanding that you truly had no intention on speaking to him longer than necessary. The conversations you did have were only necessary due to your daughter, but even those texts and calls started becoming less and less frequent.

Isabella took off her Red Bull cap, which had autographs from Max and Checo, to expose a Ferrari cap with two more signatures from Charles and Carlos, and then a McLaren cap that undoubtedly featured two signatures from Oscar and Lando. She caught up to Lando and Charles, who had given her their hats earlier, as well as their teammates, to obtain signatures. She then wanted to get autographs on her RedBull cap as well. When she asked Max and Checo, they chuckled with the latter claiming she had them all at her beck and call, but they nevertheless signed the cap.

Isabella ended up stacking all three caps on her head because she couldn't choose which one best matched with her outfit. She began explaining the story behind the signatures, and Tyler intently listened, asking a few questions in between as well.

"And then-" Isabella's gaze wandered off, eyes lighting up in excitement as she spotted, "-Maxy!"

Without any hesitation she ran up to him, colliding with him as she tried to wrap her arms around him, earning a low, "oof" from him.

Picking her up and settling her on his hip, holding her up with one arm, he held up his other hand that had a medal hanging from it. Max placed the medal around Isabella's neck, which he received on the podium earlier along with his trophy. "We won, princess," he commented, smiling as wide as she did.

She held both of her hands up, imitating the action Max did as he held his trophy on the podium, causing him to laugh. You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, and could hear their laughter from a few feet away.

Walking towards you as Max was initially planned on doing, he noticed a man next to you, which based on your descriptions was Tyler. He decided to overlook him for now, instead greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.

Tyler held his hand out, "great race, congratulations on the championship. I'm a huge fan by the way." Max, nodded politely, still holding Isabella in his arms but shaking his hand nonetheless. "Thank you," he prompted, waiting for the man to introduce himself to confirm his suspicions.

"Oh, so you're Tyler." Max glanced at you for a moment, watching as you tried to hide your smile behind your hands because of his antics. "Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?" He questioned, and Max was quick to retort, "well, it's not really the best thing now is it?"

"I don't understand," he trailed off, and your boyfriend shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't understand, it's okay," he patted Tyler's shoulder in faux consolation. You had to take a step back so Tyler wouldn't see your expression, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.

Tyler was quick to catch on to the condescending tone Max spoke with, looking at you—after you composed yourself fortunately. "So what, you get invited to one race and you guys are best friends now?" He asked, a hint of jealousy you were familiar with revealed in his tone.

"More like she's my girlfriend and they're here to support me," Max clarified. Tyler looked at Max, then Isabella, finally understanding why she was always so enamoured by him.

He scoffed, "oh great, enjoy my sloppy seconds then mate, I will warn you though, it's not worth it because a few months later she'll show you a positive pregnancy test and force you to be a father."

Your jaw dropped, instantly responding, "in front of my daughter?" You glanced at Isabella who was in fact hearing all the words spoken, only frowning due to yours and Max's expressions as she didn't understand the full context of the words her father had said, just knowing that it wasn't good.

Max wiped his hand over his mouth, jaw clenching while his warm gaze turned cold within seconds. "Apologize, now," he instructed, trying to hold himself back from causing a fight.

"Now why would I do that? It's true." Max placed Isabella back on her feet who quickly shuffled over to you, standing behind your legs. "How dare you stand here claiming to be my fan yet talk shit about the person I love?" The driver placed his hand on Tyler's shoulder again, but this time you could see the fear bubbling up in his eyes as his grip tightened.

Still, Tyler managed to scoff, "love? Bold claims there. Sorry to break it to you but she's probably just with you for your mon-" he couldn't finish his sentence because he was punched square in the jaw by your boyfriend.

"Max!" You shrieked, and watching the interaction, Isabella held on to your hands tightly with tears welling up in her eyes. You picked her up again, noticing that Tyler was fuming in anger. "Gonna fucking sue you for that," he spit out some blood, but Max only shrugged, "try me."

Fortunately, you guys were stood in between the team motorhomes, which meant you were slightly hidden away from public eye due to the buildings covering the scene.

Readying himself for another punch if needed, you shook your head, "it's not worth it, Max."

"Yeah Max, listen to your girlfriend," he taunted, angering you in the process. "Will you ever shut up?" You shot back. Max glanced at Isabella who had hid her face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you. Although he couldn't see her face, he guessed that her eyes were tightly shut.

Nodding as a silent agreement with Max, you decided to walk away from the scene as you didn't want to expose Isabella to any more of this argument than what she has already heard. Glancing at Max once more, you hoped that your expression was indicating something along the lines of, "don't do anything too bad."

However, you could hear Max's words as he began speaking to Tyler, "listen here you little shit..." but you didn't stick around to hear the entire conversation, smiling to yourself knowing that Tyler would finally be put into his place—that too by his favourite driver.

Finally entering his driver's room, you sat down on the couch sighing in relief. Isabella was still in your lap and you ran your hand up and down her back in a soothing motion because you could feel her sniffling against you. "Bella," you murmured, wanting to see her adorable face.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, sweetheart." You kissed her head before brushing your hand through her hair. You heard her mumble but didn't catch her words, "what was that?"

She lifted her head to look at you, and you frowned seeing the tears staining her cheeks. "Why is daddy so mean? I don't like him."

"Some people are just mean for no reason, and unfortunately, your daddy is one of them," you explained, no longer covering for him knowing that after what Isabella witnessed, she wouldn't want to be near him no matter what you said.

She frowned but didn't respond, leaning her head against your shoulder again. You didn't disturb her peace, knowing that after the eventful day, she needed some quiet time.

Max entered the room a few minutes later, and he smiled to greet you but it fell flat. He pointed at Isabella, then put his thumbs up to silently ask if she was okay, but you shrugged.

"What did you say to him?" You asked, knowing that whatever conversation followed probably wasn't kind. "I told him that I'd ban him from future races if I saw him anywhere near you or Bella, and he left."

You knew that it probably wasn't that easily done, but you didn't ask for more details.

You had thought Isabella fell asleep since she hadn't moved in a while, nor could you see her face, but she lifted her head up to look at Max once she heard some shuffling about in the room.

He paused as soon as his gaze connected with hers, unsure of how to initiate a conversation because he did literally punch her father. Isabella wiggled off your lap, and both you and Max thought that she would walk away further into the room so her next action surprised you both. Running towards Max, she held her arms out, engulfing him in a hug.

"You're better than my dad, Maxy," she muttered, and he audibly sighed, the stress wrinkles on his face disappearing while wrapping his own arms around her smaller frame.

"Thank you, princess," he whispered back, and she pulled back to kiss his cheek. Isabella looked back at you, smiling when she saw you smile as well. "Thank you for taking care of my mama," your daughter told Max, and his heart warmed at her words. "Always."

The ring of your phone interrupted the beautiful sight in front of you, but your eyes widened when you saw that it was your mother calling. As soon as you pick it up, you're greeted by hearing your full name.

"Hi, mum," you stood up and walked further away just in case you were about to get a scolding although you had no idea what you could've possibly done. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.

"Tell you what?" You answered with a question of your own, knowing that she could be referring to anything at the moment. "That you have a boyfriend."

Your mouth dropped open, "how do you know that?" She chuckled, "because a friend of mine called me and told me that she just watched you kiss someone on live television, some racer guy."

Covering your mouth with your hand, you thought back to the moment Max kissed you in front of the huge crowd after getting out of his car, and of course there had to be cameras capturing the moment. "Max, he's a Formula 1 driver," you explained.

"Wait, the same Max that Bella talks about?" You hummed, "the same one."

"I'm glad you finally moved on from your daughter's father, but I'm also sad that you didn't tell me sooner and I looked foolish because I didn't know until my friend told me about it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think my relationship would be broadcasted live. Plus, I think the chapter with Tyler is finally over, for both me and Isabella."

"That's good to hear, she doesn't deserve a father like him. Is Max good to you?"

"He's the best to both of us, she lights up with joy every time she sees him." Your mother hummed as she heard your response, "then me and your father have to meet him one day."

You heard some laughter in the next room where Max and Isabella were, and you smiled at your mother's words, "I hope we can come by soon, I'd love to introduce him to you and dad."

After saying goodbyes and promises to meet soon, you returned to the room Max and Isabella were in, pausing in the doorway at the sight in front of you. Just like how Isabella was sitting in your lap earlier with her head against your shoulder, she did the same to Max.

You were about to make your presence known when you heard your daughter's question. "Maxy, why do you call me princess?"

Max's gaze found yours, always finding you whether you were standing in the corner of the room or in a crowd. "Because your mama is the queen," he responded casually, as if he was stating a fact.

Isabella lifted her head, "does that make you the king?" He shrugged, "I guess it does."

She giggled, "and does that mean we get a happily ever after like the storybooks?" Max reached his hand out towards you, asking you to join them which you obliged to easily.

"Ours is better than the storybooks," he stated, placing a kiss on Isabella's forehead before pecking your lips briefly.

The End.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @wonnou @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[retroaria]

hello! if you're not busy, then may i please request an interviewer!reader x the blue lock boys? in which they become enamored with their interviewers charm. a few specific characters i want are: sae, rin, nagi and kaiser. but feel free to add or remove characters as you'd like! you can do this in your free time, no pressure. thank you, and take care!

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i’m so sorry please don’t hate me for how long this took i am NOT a professional :x

⋆˙⟡ interviewer!reader x - rin - nagi - kaiser - ⋆˙⟡

• | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | •

nagi seishiro ᯓᡣ𐭩

*totally lovestruck*

nagi has always struck me as someone who considers himself to be “out of the league” for most people he finds attractive, so he doesn’t put himself out there and doesn’t really know how. if he was in a situation where he had to interact with someone he genuinely was enamored by, he’d be a mess.

and so he stands there, dopy, clueless, not even looking correctly in the camera and seemingly staring at…you? No, he’s definitely staring at you. his eyes are dull and dim, but they seem to be a little hazed, glossed over with a sheen of fascination. he shakes his head and nods and mumbles, unbeknownst to whatever it is you’ve actually been asking him.

this is not the look nagi ever intended to have when speaking to someone he finds this attractive, but he truly can’t help it. his minds gone blank and he isn’t sure if you’re standing perfectly under a spotlight or if you’re an angel naturally glowing in his presence. his internal dialogue is stuck between cringing at himself and taking mental note of every single feature he can gather with his eyes on you - all over you, i should say.

nagi would be way too excited to actually ask you out (also definitely not after staring you down like a creep), he’d be too afraid of losing his cool. but he would absolutely remember your name and ask around when he has the chance - would ask reo for help with this lol. through some industry path of team managers to stadium staff to news reporters, he eventually finds you again. would 100% stalk you on social media and follow you just to see where that goes .

just like rin, he’d try to be in the right place at the right time and do the right things to get you to strike some sort of non formal conversation with him in the hopes that’ll it’ll create an opening for him to ask you out :x

rin itoshi ᯓᡣ𐭩

*blushes and looks away…*

rin hates interviews. he doesn’t like open ended questions and he hates having a camera shoved in his face. most of the reporters that run up to him on the edge of the field just holler questions and statements at him that can often feel degrading and presumptuous.

when he was stopped just outside the stadium by you and your small crew, you spoke to him with a lack of crassness that he hasn’t been on the receiving end of in ages - so he agrees. his answers remain cold and striking, as they always are, but his demeanor is more loose than usual.

rin initially doesn’t feel anything for you other than respect and gratitude for treating him like a human unlike the other reporters he’s encountered. he was sure to get your name and properly thank you. he’s the type to think about you and hope that you’ll cross paths again. wouldn’t go out of his way to find you, but at every game and every event he scans the crowds in search of your smile that had welcomed him so tenderly before. not to mention your face has popped into his head almost everyday since he first met you and it’s freaking him the fuck out.

when he does see you again he accepts your interview request immediately, bullshits through all the questions, and sticks around a little longer to talk to you. he’s painfully awkward and even more painfully unaware of it, but once you notice the slight blush on his face you can steer him in the right direction lol

michael kaiser ᯓᡣ𐭩

*prince charming*

when you introduced yourself to kaiser in hopes of getting an interview you certainly did not expect the offer to be accepted so enthusiastically. kaiser isn’t necessarily bothered by interviews, but he hates having to think of answers on the spot.

he’d throw out some cheeky lines like “If I smile at the camera can I get a date?” and a classic for him, “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

you’re asking him questions he surely has been asked before, questions he’s probably been trained to answer, but his answers are boastfully and flirtatiously directed at you and you alone. your camera man leaned over and asked if he should just cut all the footage. you entertain him a little more, trying to see if you can get him to break his prince charming act and actually talk about the game he just played.

eventually he lets up and you get the interview done. as you and your crew are about to leave the stadium, he grabs your hand and lifts it up, planting a soft kiss to your knuckles (you think maybe this could be considered assault, but you’ll let it slide for him this one time).

unlike the other two, kaiser doesn’t have a bashful bone in his body in this situation. i’ve always felt that he isn’t as much of a manwhore as everyone thinks he is, which i still stand by!!! but if he sees you and is truly enamored by you he knows how to make his feeling apparent.

[thevirtualvalentine]

Challengers

Plot: three young tennis stars find themselves in a sticky love triangle, or, satosugu x reader x Challengers!au, but if you were tashi and had stayed in the hotel room that night in 2006.

Warnings: threesomes (mfm), afab!reader, competitiveness, cunnilings, handjobs n’ oral, switch!gojo, fingering, porn with plot, missionary prince gojo, doggy king geto, they both have a massive crush on reader, banter, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms.

authors notes: I got super carried away and it’s such a long read (6.6k), enjoy! 😇

There was one thing two of these complete opposites could agree on. Y/n L/n was the sexiest tennis player either of them had ever seen. On and off the court.

Satorus' big bright eyes stared at your recent brand campaign on social media in awe as he scrolled through his phone during downtime before practice.

“Can you believe that? Look at this Su” Satoru shows his friend in utter disbelief like you just cheated on him or something. His eyes haven’t left his screen in over five minutes, he looks pained yet fascinated knowing you have no idea who he is. Additionally, he’s oddly defensive over his phone even though he offered to show the raven-haired male.

“Like she’d fuck with a guy like you,” Suguru mumbles quietly under his breath in annoyance, rolling his eyes and leaning further into his stretch. Sometimes he wishes Satoru took this a little bit more seriously considering upcoming dates.

While their favorite thing to talk about outside of tennis was you, they had serious work to do before an upcoming competition that the two of them would be competing in.

“But you know, Masamichi said we got invited to a party of hers before the match..” Satoru makes his way to the lined court, serving some while waiting for his companion.

“Shut up and just do your drills Satoru,” Suguru muses while grabbing his racket, making a face while returning a stray ball right at the white-haired man. He quickly ties his long hair back in a low ponytail before gearing up for practice.

“Ouchie!! Suguru be careful where you aim those,” he pouts, running frantically around the court before dramatically grabbing the net to state his grievances. He can only hear his partner darkly laugh with his back turned to him. Suguru has always had a tendency to be a meanie!

But, before they went to your party, they had wanted to watch you play a match in the exact upcoming competition. Suguru was the most inquisitive to see your infamous backhand the press can’t seem to shut up about in various headlines. Satoru would never pass up the opportunity to see you in motion.

Later that week at the match, the two of them arrive together and wave off various paparazzi looking for interviews before finding their seats. “Look look— is that her?” Satoru voices as you enter the court, they’re watching from their meticulously purchased stand seats as a woman with dark skin and a matching set begins to stretch. Your long curly hair is pulled back in a keen style as you showcase your limber frame.

“Unbelievable,” Suguru cannot ignore the sly smirk that graces Gojo's face as he observes you. There were visible glimmers in his friend's blue eyes that clearly shone for you.

Suguru isn’t sure if he’s jealous about it all, but he interjects nevertheless. “Again, like she’d want you over me.”

The match commences with your serve. The two of them instantaneously manspread in their seats, gazes glued to your every movement. You had absolute domineering control of the court, causing your opponent to run around like a chicken with her head cut off. Even as the ball was smashed to either side of the court, their yearning was fixated on Y/n L/n, the tennis prodigy.

During a particularly electrified set, Suguru rests his hand on Satoru's thigh. He can feel the stiffness of his friends' pants, he recognizes it because of his own growingly awkward condition. Fuck, he knew they were both whipped as they exhaled a long-held breath simultaneously. Neither of them realized they’d been holding it while watching you in the first place.

You ultimately win the match, exclaiming your victory boldly. “Come on!” Satoru doesn’t know if there’s a word for it, smitten maybe? Gobsmacked? Horny? Is he in love? He doesn’t know. He just knows you’re beautiful in that moment, emulating your joy with a smile of his own.

Later on that day, a party was held in one of your family's villas, the two of them couldn’t help themselves from gawking at all the decorations dedicated to you. Their jaws were practically on the floor seeing precisely how successful you were. Satoru’s dick hurt with how hard it was sitting in his pants, khakis aren’t really great for boners.

The duo finds you on the dance floor with your friends, a nice fitting electric blue dress hugs your curvy body while you sway and dance to the beat. It’s effortless, “wooow,” Suguru says downing his bitter drink. They’re not doing excellently to camouflage themselves with hard-pointed gazes, just standing there watching you at a nearby event table.

Their attire pales in comparison to yours, simple slacks with a nice suitable polo. Colors befitting the two of them respectively. Satoru sporting a pretty pale blue shirt and Suguru in muted navy (no doubt stolen from Satoru). You see the two of them watching you, but you don’t really mind. You know they’ll find their way over to you eventually.

In fact, it doesn’t take long. They scamper up to you in a hurry when they spot you sitting down to take a drink in a less densely populated area of the party.

“Satoru Gojo,” the man with short white hair and big bright blue eyes conveys.

“Suguru Geto,” the one with mysterious allure and long black hair articulated.

But, it comes out indistinguishable as they decide to speak in unison. “Yin and Yang, I know you two.” You take an interlude to catch your breath and sip your drink. Their hungry eyes track your hasty mouth to the straw with a similar thirst.

“So, which ones which?” they gulp, but Suguru is eager to bite first.

“Guess,” and it comes out how you would imagine. Flirtatious with a dynamism of sarcasm, you can spot the growing shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

“Your match today was incredible, it was like an entirely different game. I almost felt bad for Mei Mei” Truthfully, in his heart of hearts, Satoru Gojo cannot and will not be beat. Not even by his best friend. His pride runs too deep to face a reality in which he does not win.

You look down at your hands and smile before replying to him, soaking in the compliment. Just like a flower, he thinks you’re beautiful. “Thank you, but don’t she’s a freak, honestly. You should hear the rumors about her and her little brother.”

Suguru almost spits his booze across the small table, he didn’t think you of all people would be the one to say such gossip. Beautiful, athletic, and very witty. He likes it, at least that’s what he’s concluded.

“Hey, come hang out with us down by the beach later. Do you smoke?” He has also decided that he’d act upon his feelings. What’s the worst that could happen? Getting to spend time with you would be fun.

“Uh,” you dart your eyes between them considering your options, “Yeah, sure. I’ll come by.” Not a moment sooner though, your parents call you over to oversee some of your financial business partners at the party. You are whisked away by eager hands, quickly forgetting about the two of them as they’re left to watch you mingle with a sense of want in their chest.

“She totally wants me,” Satoru says full of blind confidence, not even bothering to look at his friend to confirm his thoughts.

And again, there’s that sparkle in Satoru’s eyes. “For the final time, like it’s you she wants. She was obviously flirting with me.” He is always full of fire and smacks the back of Satorus' neck in compensation.

Later on, when most of the attendees have trickled out one by one, the pair finds themselves plotting incessantly once more. Neither of them is able to help themselves in their delusions, discussing to share you like pieces of pie.

“Still here?” You say when you find them sitting off to the side by their lonesome. They always seem to be together, attached at the hip like a husband and husband.

“We were waiting for you. Come down to the beach with us.” Even though it was a question, one which you didn’t have to answer, Suguru's raging confidence speaks volumes making it a statement. smooth, a little too smooth.

You look back once more at your surroundings to ensure your family didn’t need you for any pictures, it would be awkward if they found out you were sneaking around with two guys. Yet, you indulge them, “Uh,” hesitation finds you biting down on your bottom lip slightly, “Sure.” you say, shaking any negative thoughts from your head. this was a party after a great win today, go have fun.

As a trio once more, the three of you make your way to the grainy shores, doing your best to avoid steep drops. Both of them engaging you in conversation simultaneously, almost talking over each other with their boyish charm. “One at a time please, I can’t understand you both when you talk like that,” you say with a huff, sitting down on a dry rock while the twins find themselves perched in chairs.

Soft waves scurry against the sand in droves painting a scenic backdrop for your conversation against the dark blue sky littered with stars. Suguru lights a smoke and the sparks ignite the air around him. He offers it to you and doesn't mind your inevitable rejection. You do have an image he supposes.

“Lemme ask you something,” he says huffing smoke, passing his cigarette to Satoru. You nod, letting your body face the water as the unclear and mysterious man talks.

“What’s your angle about the whole Jujutsu College thing, you’re too good for the collegiate league.” His eyes find yours, awaiting your answer as he leans further back into his seat.

Satoru, unlike his friend, knows the value of education. He also knows you’ll be attending the same institute as him to play tennis alongside your studies.

You answer him in a smooth tone, sure of your answer, “It has classes y’know. I don’t want my only life skill to be hitting a ball with a racket.” Despite the will of Mother Nature, neither of them could hear the sound of the waves over their heartbeats. Hearing you tell them exactly how it is makes them admire you as a player even more.

“I get it, you’re making us wait for you.” He finds himself grinning lightly. “The tennis phenomenon who cares about her education.” You’re exactly the woman they knew you’d be. Smart, cunning, and ambitious. There’s nothing you couldn’t do, and there’s absolutely nothing that could make either of them want you more in that moment. Satoru drones out the rest of your conversation as Suguru gets into morals and life goals on the ethics of tennis.

Satoru takes this time to really study you. He notes the smoothness of your skin, the enunciation of your collarbones through your strapless dress, and the silver hoops that dangle from your ears and sway with every word you say. He can feel himself almost begin to salivate and glow red.

“It’s a relationship,” you assert. That’s when Satoru has half a mind to pay attention again to the conversation instead of ogling you. Suguru has seemed to hit a nerve with you about whatever you were discussing.

“Is that what you and Mei Mei had today? A relationship?” Suguru throughout his career has found himself asking these confounding questions. Wanting to know the true essence of why he plays his sport. Your conversation and mind have intrigued him, he’s going to push you further just for the sake of intelligent conversation.

“Yes, it was like we were in love like we were the only ones there. Maybe somewhere far away.” Still confused, he wants to chatter more but Satoru seems quick on the uptake.

“When you yelled,” the gears in his mind flip to that exact moment during the match when you hit the winning shot. It was electrifying and infectious.

You’re touched he was able to examine your game like that. “Yeah,” you smile at him tenderly over your shoulder. Maybe they both weren’t so bad, a bit rough around the edges you suppose. “Okay, I gotta go before my parents need me. I’ll see you at school Satoru,” you reveal while grabbing your shoes and patting the sand off your dress.

“Do you have Facebook?” Suguru interjects before you can disappear into the night, only to be seen in another brand campaign on their phone before practice. If he didn't seize this chance, when would there be another opportunity?

“What?” You dig your heels in the sand and spin around to face them. There is a moment of silence as the wind gently blows your long curls into your lipgloss.

Satoru decides he’ll be brave too. “He’s asking for your number, and so am I.”

“You both want my number?” A look of incredulity transits your face at the implication. A pair of best friends, seemingly more, who both want you? It seems a little far-fetched.

“Yes.” Quick, concise, unanimous.

“Ok, well, I’m not a home wrecker.” Whatever is happening between them, stays with them. Your eyes are on tennis and your future.

“Whatttt, nooo. It’s an open relationship. Come hang out with us later. We’re at the same hotel. Room 206.” Satoru proposes to lighten the mood. Suguru only chuckles in his chair at your words, coughing up pools of smoke in the process. What a dope.

“Bye,” is all you leave them with, making your way back up the beach to your party with your friends and family. You can audibly hear boo’s following you from the shore from the two boys.

after leaving the party, the two make their way back to the hotel. Coming up with new ideas on how to win your affections. Going as far as to stake their match tomorrow on it. The room's AC had been broken since the two boys got there. Suguru needed the window open anyway if he was going to smoke.

“So, what are the odds you think she’s coming?” Satoru asks for the sixth time this hour alone. He’s dressed only in a pair of boxers feeling the heat, he's lying upside down on the bed observing Suguru chucking cards into the trash can in between punching the AC unit in hopes of it working. They’ve shared a few drinks between the two of them while yearning desperately in their shared hotel room.

Suguru, in typical fashion matching his friend, dons a shirt of his Satorus' with boxers. “She’s not coming,” he says with a mix of disappointment and longing as a way to console himself. Perhaps the two of them had glazed it on too strong.

“Besides, if she came how would that even work? Do we just wait till she kisses one of us and kicks the other out?” The thoughts that have been plaguing his mind now reside in the blue-eyed beauty’s.

Then, three knocks at the door rouse them from their depressive slump, they eye one another to confirm what they both just heard. Had you really come? With another three knocks the adrenaline starts pumping gas.

Fuck. Dumb and dumber run to clean the room, throwing the all cards in the trash can, straightening up the bed sheets, and most importantly putting on a proper pair of pants and a shirt. They practically trip over one another to open the door.

“Hey!” But Geto’s just a little faster.

“Again with the speaking in unison thing. Stop it.” You had been listening to them clamber around in there before opening the door. they laugh before showing you around the room and settling down in a circle on the ground.

“So, did you guys like grow up together?” They snicker and laugh with each other as you join them on the carpeted floor in conversation. “What! I just mean, it seems like you guys are brothers,” you say correcting yourself a little nervously. Now that you’re alone with the two of them it’s all setting in. Your eyes catch their adam's apple as they talk, the bobbing making you swallow hard.

“Well, we went to boarding school together. Been bunk mates since we were 12 years old. That kind of thing.” Suguru answers your question as an excuse to eye you longer. Tiny black shorts strangling your muscular thighs, a hot pink zip-up jacket with probably nothing underneath it, and you have your long natural curls flowing down your back and face. You’re just so tantalizing no matter what you’re in, and he’s sure Satoru feels the same way.

“Oh, and how often does this happen?” You pause, sitting up on your knees making your hips extra plush as you query, “Going after the same girl?”

Yin and yang eye each other before answering as if in deep thought, “Never.”

“Not as often as you’d think. We usually have different types” Truthfully, they wanted to sound sincere.

“Oh, so should I feel special?” but that honesty stung nonetheless. While they didn’t mean to, it came off a bit rude. Why even entertain these two freaks in the first place?

Satoru answers your question to soften the mood, “Aren’t you everyone’s type?” he has a strange threshold of emotional intelligence, more than Suguru. That's what you like about him though, his eyes that see everything.

Both of their stares pining you in place, while they are nice, you can sense a lingering intensity in their terminology. It ignited something in you, sending a tremble through your spine thinking of what they could do to you in the security of these four walls.

Your eyes flicker between the two of them but then fall on the bed, noting the fact the two once separate beds have been forced together. You face back to the pretty pair feeling the tension amidst you all reaching its climax.

“And what about the two of you,” your hands point back and forth trying to say the obvious without saying it. “I’m not a home wrecker.”

“Us?” They ask in unison almost comically. When they realize you’re dead serious they shut up and consider it for a second.

“Well..” Suguru starts, but Satoru stops.

A flush of red overtakes his face immediately, “no, Su, not that.”

He snickers to himself lightly in a teasing manner, but your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Tell me please, I feel like you two at least owe me that.” You can practically feel yourself digging your nails into the skin of your palm in anticipation of their little secret.

“Fine. Ok.” The confession begins. “Suguru taught me how to jerk off when we were 12. I think I was a late bloomer or something,” he says avoiding eye contact still beet red from the neck up. It’s honestly kind of cute but you still find yourself giggling slightly.

Much to Satoru’s dismay, Suguru only joins in on the laughter. The white-haired man places his head between his knees trying to think of some sort of rebuttal in the middle of his embarrassment.

“Whatever, you wouldn’t be the one laughing if it happened to you.”

Suguru attempts to console him to no avail and you slam down the rest of his drink when he isn’t looking, wiping the excess off the corners of your mouth. Shitty beer never sits right with you, but if you were going to go through with your plan you’d need liquid courage.

Rising from the floor you place yourself in the middle of their pushed-together beds. Sitting with your legs crossed eyeing them both from the floor. “C’mere,” you say softly, patting the bed to signal their attention.

Like a moth to a flame, they scurry over, settling themselves on either side of you.

You can feel the heat radiating from them just by being sandwiched between them, their knees confining yours. Their torsos completely turned to face you, waiting to see what you’ll do. Neither of them could face your rejection, who are you going to pick?

You lean towards Suguru giggling, twirling the hair that lays on his shoulder around your fingers. His face light pink as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for anything. It’s like he looks lost, confused as to what to do. It’s cute for someone who always seems so sure of himself. It suits him, you think.

Then, you turn to Satoru, his pretty blue eyes meeting yours with gorgeous white lashes. You’d never really seen them till now, then you noticed how well defined his cupid's bow was, and the light shade of his lips… you couldn’t help it, your mouth was meeting his with unexpected need. You felt him physically relax into you, his enormous palm resting on the fat of your thigh as you held his face. He was kissing you like he was familiar with your taste.

Suguru didn’t know he was going to be this turned on at the site before his eyes, not particularly sore that you kissed his friend before him. Bygones. It’s just thrilling to him how good the two of you look while doing it, he almost forgot he was in the room with you.

But you didn’t forget about him, of course, you have to peel yourself off of the needy man next to you to get to him though. “Can I kiss you,” you ask him.

And he nods, “More than welcome sweetheart.” You simply roll your eyes, what a charmer.

He’s all teeth and tongue, his mouth and hands trying to suck you closer to him. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and it was sending heat straight downwards, making you draw your knees together.

Though Satoru separates them, letting his appendage creep up your bare thigh trying to test the waters. You drag it up further to encourage him, he shows his gratitude by kissing the skin of your neck. He can feel you moan as you kiss his friend and he doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on in his life. There’s just no way this was really happening.

You try kissing them at the same time, but it’s just overwhelming. The roughness of their fingertips makes you groan into their touch. It’s a battle of will and you can’t compete with their hunger as they devour you, greedy hands trying formidably hard to claim you as their own.

Satoru tows you into his lap, placing the plush of your ass directly on his boner. You can see the light pink hue coating his face as he watches Suguru slot himself between your legs, it makes you feel drunk to be between their immense frames like this. He grabs your legs as they dangle off the bed, letting his shoulders hold the brunt of their weight. His dark eyes find yours as he smiles, kissing your soft inner thighs with pepper-light praise.

It almost feels like you’re not yourself, witnessing your chest rise and fall so sporadically in anticipation of what his mouth is going to do next. Satoru's breath hitches as his partner slides your flimsy shorts down to your ankles, eyes locked on the translucent slick connecting you to your underwear.

Your face feels hot knowing they’re both looking at your indecent cunt, but instead they praise you.

“Pretty girl with an even prettier pussy,” Suguru says. Smug bastard.

“No fair. Do something or I will.” The blue-eyed beauty pouts, twisting your nipple from underneath your jacket. It elicits a whine from deep within your chest, their attention making you grow hotter and more ravenous every second.

Congrats, you just made their dicks 12x heavier in their pants. More of that sweet noise, they agree.

Su plants his face in your hot pussy with no shame, licking long stripes up your folds. “Fuck, Satoru you wouldn’t believe what she tastes like,” he remarks wiping your slick from his lips and directly into his mouth.

“Let me try,” his tone is different, all silliness gone, and it's quite dominant. He grabs Suguru by his dark hair, raising the male from his kneeling position to kiss him so he can get a taste of you himself.

The sight makes warmth shoot right to your guts, they’re making out so intensely it almost feels like you’re intruding, but you can’t stop watching them.

“You’re right,” he says with a wicked grin and blown-out pupils, “she tastes fucking incredible.”

You can see the look on their faces, they’re sick and you’re worried you’re going to become as fucked up as them by the end of this.

Continuing their ministrations, Suguru is back to kissing your thighs while Satoru massages your breasts in his large palms. But something’s different, their energy has changed. It’s been replaced with something you can’t quite yet place your finger on.

You start to feel teeth graze your supple skin, on both your neck and inner thighs. They smirk in unison feeling you twitch lightly in their hold, taking it as a sign to continue. “What’s wrong? You’re so shy all of a sudden. Where’s that on the court ferocity baby?”

His voice is smooth and low in your ears, you open your droopy eyes to find him already looking right back at you. “Shut up.” What a bunch of jackasses.

He laughs, pulling your cunt flush to his eager lips. “Fine then,” and damn does it feel good. His wet muscle rolls on your clit in steady waves, never breaking his pace. Suguru's warm breath and open-mouthed pants into your pussy have you crushing his skull between your toned thighs, but his iron grip stops you.

He alternates between flicking and sucking but you can’t follow because Satoru is making you feel limp in his arms. For all his cuteness, he’s really a beast; rutting his cock into your ass as he bites into your shoulder for a better grip on you. You have half to mind to tell him to not be so rough, it’s too hot outside to wear a turtleneck.

It just all feels so good, you didn’t think it could get any better till you feel a finger prodding at your entrance. It’s thick, and you welcome it with no fuss, sighing as you grind down on his worn hand.

“Her pussy is so soft, fuck I need to put my dick in this.” And there’s another finger, it burns but the calloused ridges feel much better than your own hands.

“You are disgusting,” you bark back, but it sounds pathetic as his friend pinches your dark nipples between his fingers mid-sentence.

“You’re the one twitching on my fingers, talk about disgusting.” His words sting and make your face feel hot, but he beams, delving in for more, making out with your sensitive bud as his fingers pump in and out of you.

Satoru feels this is all unsportsmanlike. He doesn’t get to taste you, but he guesses he should be grateful to just touch you. Something in him wants more, and needs to be selfish, “I get to fuck you first, understand?”

Your small face rests in his hand, your head tipped upwards to meet his infinite eyes that tell you he’s not asking. “Please S’Toru, mmn— need you now,” spit pools in the corners of your mouth and he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked sexier.

The darker-haired man merely chuckles, knowing he’s been beaten by the way your pussy is gripping his fingers right now. Only Satoru could do something like that.

But in the meantime, he’ll stretch you out just how you need.

You can only assume there are three fingers knuckle deep inside you, you honestly can’t tell because your eyes are rolled back in satisfaction. They’re caging you, bringing you to a threshold of pleasure you didn’t know before. “Gonna— ah! Wai- gonna cum,” his three digits curve upwards, jamming that spot as he sucks your clit within his velvety lips.

White hot pleasure clouds your vision as you come undone in front of them, their eyes watching every jolt devastate you. If they could make you cum like this, what else could they do to you?

“You’re so perfect for us, jus’ keep cumming princess.” You’re a moaning heaving mess in his arms but Satoru thinks he might be in love with you. He can’t take his eyes away from your face as you writhe so helplessly.

They let you catch your breath a moment before getting into the next position, removing any extra clothes that might prevent them from fully feeling you, kissing your face and thighs whenever you shiver. Despite all the shit you gave them, they were actually kinda sweet.

You let them move you to the center of the bed, Satoru slotting himself between your legs while your pelvis rests on his hips. Suguru innocently sits close by next to you waiting for his set of instructions.

“Do you trust us?” He asks.

“Of course not.” You joke, arching your eyebrow in defiance to them. Satoru slaps your clit with his cock for misbehaving, and you had not realized it before but he’s big. It’s almost to your belly button and you have no idea how you’re going to be able to take all of him.

Like a predator, he senses your fear, “kiss her,” he briefs Suguru.

His mouth and tongue still taste like you, warm and lithe as it seeps into your mouth. You’re distracted flat on your back as Gojo thumbs your still-sensitive clit, wanting to give you a little pleasure for the impending pain.

It’s like him to pick missionary, you think. You can’t see him but he’s biting his own lip to the point it could draw blood as he works his long cock into you inch by fucking inch. It’s torture not just fucking you to the hilt but he’ll be nice.

“So good baby, this pussy’s real fucking good,” he hisses through his teeth. You can only moan into Suguru's mouth, he drowns out and swallows up every cry of pain and pleasure.

They’re shallow and steady strokes that make you impatient, you respond by grinding yourself onto him with fervor. “Stop it, you know I can’t take it if you do that,” he whines, you feel his weight fall close by on the bed. “You’re just so damn tight.”

With his hand propped on the mattress, Satoru hits somewhere deeper inside you, making you reflexively close your legs around his small waist. It’s all a blur, Sugurus' snake-like tongue and Satorus' cannon of a dick.

They’re relentless. You feel like he’s carving a new hole in your insides with how thorough he’s maiming you. “You like it huh, love when I fuck you hard like this?” It’s all but enunciated with a potent stroke behind each syllable.

He knows you can’t answer him with his best friend commandeering your mouth, the sight before him was beyond enthralling. But he doesn’t need you to, each squelch of your cunt providing him with enough proof.

Plap, plap, plap. His heavy balls hitting your ass over and over again. He doesn’t even need to do anything unique with a dick like that, he might be too prideful to use it correctly.

“Su, I-I want you to eat her out as I fuck her, please,” even though Satoru was the one in control of this situation, you don’t miss the submission in his voice to his equal.

He hums, leaving your mouth to pick up where he left off earlier. Memories of your pussy sweet like candy on his tongue flash in his mind as he tucks his long black hair behind his ear to not get in the way of his feast.

It’s so fucking sexy, you moan out a mix of their names too far gone to differentiate at this point. They could be your god for all you care. “Don’t s-stop.”

“Of course sweet thing,” Suguru replies, they’ll service you however you need them to.

Satoru sits on his feet to give Geto space, inching his cock in you deliberately slow. Coupled with Su's stellar oral, you’re good as gone. Twitching and arching off the bed as you’re spread and fucked.

You didn’t know sex could feel this good, they’re so intently focused on your pleasure it’s overwhelming. That familiar fire kindling in your tummy. “Oh! I’m- I’m gonna—”

“Already?” They say in unison, watching as you cum for the second time tonight. Satoru grabs Suguru in support, your cunt is sucking him in so tight that he’s probably going to cum himself if he doesn’t calm down.

Suguru swallows your loud whines, wanting to be a little mindful of the late hour. That has his friend coming undone, “Me too— fuckkkk.”

You’re shivering in aftershock as he shallowly pumps his load in you. Letting you milk his tip as he rocks his hips lightly. It’s the most he’s ever came, and he just can’t stop cumming because it’s started to leak out of you. A foamy mix of him and yourself now coating his frosty happy trail.

“Well, that’s just not fair,” Suguru says, wiping his face and putting his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suck, feeling a tad bit remorseful. After all, he didn’t get to cum, and he’s been so good to you and your cunny.

You weakly grab his wrist, trying to speak with your mouth stuffed. “What?”

He withdraws, letting his hand drag down your body, squeezing your tit in his warm palm before resting on your tummy. The sensation of him tapping his fingers against your flesh lights you on fire all over again.

“Fuck me, I can take it. Or what? Are you too pussy?”

What a damn brat, you’re just like Satoru. At least, that’s what he thinks. After all, you both give him this nauseating sense of frustration to put you in your place for your sheer arrogance.

He just rolls his eyes, amused nonetheless, “Okay.”

He pulls a limp and exhausted Satoru from out between your legs, informing him of his next intentions before they have to go to sleep for their match tomorrow. You watch the two of them converge from on your stomach, trying to collect yourself. The feeling of something new is still so exciting even if you’re acting confident.

After what felt like forever one of them crawls back over to the bed. “Ass up hun, c’mon I wanna see it.” Suguru is hot in a different way than Satoru, as you get into position he starts pumping his cock from somewhere just out of reach. “Wow baby, beautiful arch,” he sneers, but it is genuine. He’s leaking pre just toying with himself while watching you.

“Clean her up,” he commands. Satoru obeys, giving your ass a light smack before positioning himself behind you. You’ve never had someone eat you out like this before, whatever their fetish was with tasting you was; it was heaven.

He spits in your pussy before dribbling it back up gain. Like a dog he’s responsible for cleaning his own mess, groaning at the taste of himself and you coating your thighs and folds. You’re sure it’s been gone for a while now but he doesn’t stop, neither does Suguru. Just standing there, stroking himself with a pink hue coating his face.

It’s mind-shattering at this point how diminutive you feel to their impulses. Incoherent babble about how good it feels and how it’s too much slip past your lips as you’re forced to watch his abs tense and flex in tandem with his sharp v-line, but he’s slow. Just edging himself over there as Satoru devours you. His tongue cooling your worn cunt.

“Careful, don’t make her cum again.” Enough watching, he honestly can’t take much more himself.

Satoru begrudgingly stops and sits on the bed by your head, waiting for further instruction.

“You think you’re ready?” His features are shrouded in a dark halo, raven hair cascading down his collarbones as he mounts you.

You deeply want to say yes but you can feel your pussy clenching questioning it, his broad shoulders looming over you. “Yes..” maybe you bit off more than you can chew. He would be the type to love doggy, you think.

He grins, lining himself up with your slit and coating his tip in your excess juices. “Good.” It knocks the wind out of you with how girthy he is.

If Satoru was length, Suguru was girth. You white knuckle the bed sheet as he fucks the sense out of you. Starting from the tip of your toes to the crown of your scalp he rearranged you.

“Nghhh—” You can’t say or do anything, just accept his intrusion. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, bracing yourself as Suguru picks up speed.

He’s exact, precise, and doesn’t waste a single ounce of energy in his stroke. It’s deep and punctual, powerful in your guts. “Fu-u-uck,” he has you stuttering over your words and the tears begin to spill from his mean dick.

“Aw, you cryin’?” Satoru says, wiping the tears from your face as you look to him for some sort of mercy. You should have known better, his icy eyes and tone betraying any semblance of pity to the brute pounding you’re receiving.

He just grunts behind you, hands bruising your sides surely from his grip alone. That’s the only thing keeping you up, the sheer power in his thrust makes the sound and smell of sex pungent.

Satoru takes your hand and places it on his shaft, he himself is a little envious of the sight and needs tending to again. Your sense of perception becomes needier to please and oblige his wishes, jerking his fat dick as his best friend pounds you.

It’s cliché, but you didn’t expect it to be this good. The two of them totally ruining you in their shitty hotel room, two arrogant rising tennis stars sharing you greedily.

The tension in the room builds, barreling towards completion as desperate moans and groans erupt from you all. A hedonistic sight indeed, chasing after your ends.

It’s Suguru who causes the domino effect, picking up speed and hunching over to rest his body on top of yours. You buckle under the weight which has him even deeper inside you. “Just like that, stay there,” it’s firm.

He’s moaning, driving himself in and out of you with reckless abandon. His hair wild as he mutters obscenities about your pussy. His hips begin to stutter, causing Satoru to follow suit hearing you both scream like animals.

Your hand works over just the top half of his cock as he cums, overstimulating him but he can’t help but buck his hips into your hand for more. Next thing you know, you’re finishing too, the rest of it being a blur from his spent you were.

A disgusting pile of sweat, cum, and spit coats the three of you on that bed. Catching your breaths and seeking warmth from each other after what you just did. “Are you sure you guys haven’t done that before?” You break the silence with a joke.

“We could do it again,” Satoru mumbles, half joking half serious.

“We have a game. Shower then sleep,” Suguru says matter-of-factly, removing his forearm from his eyes.

The three of you stumble to the bathroom, sticky and hot as you pile in the bath. It’s quiet, but it’s nice.

You talk about what went wrong and what went right as you wash each other, even talking about strategy for the game tomorrow. Oh, and of course the infamous bet.

Whoever wins gets to have your heart, right?

[wemalyri]

what are enhypen members like in a relationship? heeseung ver.

pairing: idols!enhypen × fem!reader

w/c: 1,8k

warnings: relationship development, petnames, kisses, physical touch, smut under cut

a/n:  I feel like this one is a bit messy. I just wanted to speak out. it's just my opinion and made for entertainment! you can agree or disagree, that's fine. if you liked it, likes and reports are welcomed. also let me know if I should do this with other members too. 

heeseung jay jake sunghoon sunoo jungwon niki

the first meeting

So, first of all, let's be honest. Have you seen how awkward and embarrassed Heeseung looks around girls? Even Jay in the interview said that Heeseung is actually really shy around females, but he treats everyone nicely. So when you first meet, don't expect him to talk a lot. He would act politely, nodding sometimes as you talk, but not more. He might like you, though. The way you speak, the way you look, the way you laugh. He would be quietly impressed, but wouldn’t think a lot about that, because he meets so many beautiful fans and not only every day. He would be just fascinated and that’s it.

However, as you start to bump into each other more often, he would start thinking “Oh, her outfit today was so nice” or “Her hair looked really cute today”.  Maybe he would start to open a little bit more, like when you meet in the elevator he would greet you with a smile and make small talk about weather or something casual. Heeseung would ask, "Which floor are you going to?" just to press the elevator button instead of you. 

friendship

When he realizes that you are close friends with Jake, it doesn’t go unnoticed. Sometimes he starts seeing you in the studio, in the practice room, in their dorm after all... Moreover, you get along with other members, which predisposes Heeseung’s trust to you. He’s starting to feel more relaxed around you, getting used to it. And that’s when you become friends with Heeseung too. 

He finds out you two have a lot in common, it fascinates him. The way you’re both hardworking, charismatic, kind, gentle and funny. You show your emotions a bit more than him, but it only delights him. You two would play video games together and even though you love it, you kinda suck at games sometimes. He wouldn’t laugh at you, but praise after each game “You did well, though”. During the game, when you make a good move with your character, Heeseung would exclaim “Wow that was good”. And even though you lose a lot, you are never upset with that and always praise Heeseung with a gentle smile. And there is something in your actions that made Heeseung want to give in so you could win just to see your smile and the way you try to make it up for him, so he wouldn’t be upset. 

But it’s not just about games. Everything about you just feels right like you were made for each other. Your playful comments, your interests, your reactions. The way you look, the way you talk, the way you rub your eyes, feeling sleepy during a movie. And this is when he realizes that maybe he likes you a bit a lot. 

He would understand that immediately, Heeseung knows himself. But he wouldn’t bring it up to you, scared of what to do. Normally, he would put himself together and confess to you no matter what, but right now he’s an idol… And it makes everything 100x more difficult. What if you like him back? Should you two date? But what if someone finds out? Wait, what if you don’t even like him…

With these thoughts Heeseung came up to Jake, your best friend. Actually, he wasn’t the one who brought it up first. It was Jake, who noticed Heeseung's behavior around you.

“Do you like Y/n by the way?” Jake would ask just to make sure, but Heeseung’s red ears, nervous giggle and head in love would tell everything without words.

his confession

He doesn’t care anymore what’s gonna happen. He just feels that it would be honest to confess to you, to let you know his feelings.

He would ask you for a walk and make surprise just for you. Imagine, it’s dark outside and Heeseung leads you to the Han river (sounds scary lol). He closes your eyes with his hands as you come near the place that he prepared. Heeseung slowly guides you, being careful so you wouldn’t stumble. When his steps stop, his hands move away from your face and you see a picnic place that Heeseung organized for you.

So this is where he confesses to you. He’s hella nervous, his voice is quiet.

“I don’t want my words to ruin anything, but I feel like you deserve to know my true feelings. I want to be honest with you. Y/n, I like you. Maybe even more than that. I tried to get rid of this, but that was too difficult. You don’t have to answer back, I just wanted you to know.”

When you say to him that you like him too, his smile is the brightest you’ve ever seen. You two hug each other, when he whispers “Can I be your boyfriend?

And your answer again makes him the happiest person ever.

relationship

I feel like he’s the type to be really awkward and shy at first. Like the first time you would go out somewhere to get used to each other’s presence. Even though you already were friends, now your relationship felt different and you would need time to adjust yourself. Heeseung would definitely be the sweetest guy ever, trying to show himself from the best side as your boyfriend. He would buy you flowers, win plushies in the arcade, text you even when he was at work. He would listen to you attentively, admiring you with a soft smile on his face. Also at the first time, I feel like he would be kinda awkward in the physical way around you. Like you two would hug each other when you met but nothing more. His ears would turn red and his leg would start shaking every time your hands met for a second or when your faces just closer to each other.

But it’s only for the first time. You can tell that when Heeseung gets comfortable, he gets too comfortable. He would start teasing you more, flirting more, touching you more. When he gets confident it’s really rare to see his ears red. He would flirt non-stop, getting really close to you physically. He would act like he was born to make you flustered. You can see how satisfied he looks when fans are blushing around him but if you’re his gf IT’S EVEN WORSE. And Heeseung is definitely the type of guy who would love to be affectionate around members/his friends. Flirting with you just to hear fake throw ups behind him? Oh yeah he loves that.

first kiss

I feel like Heeseung has had his first kiss already, but it doesn't make him less nervous. It's still important for him, he wants you to be comfortable enough, he wants to make it memorable. 

One time you are watching a movie together, his hand wrapped around your shoulder, you cuddling. When a movie ends, no one speaks. You just look at each other, your eyes stuck on his lips. Heeseung notices this and looks at your lips too, trying to put himself together to lean closer and gaze into your eyes, “Can I?..”, his voice is a soft whisper. As soon as you nod and give your permission, he slowly leans closer, pressing his lips to yours. He doesn't move first until you really kiss him. He smiles into a kiss, answering back. 

18+ UNDER CUT

first time

This bro is inexperienced, but he always tries to do his best. And always succeeds. Heeseung would be really scared to mess up in front of you. Like he's gonna read a lot about sex, watch different videos, even though he is probably not going to find out something new. He just wants to make sure there's nothing he doesn't know about. 

When the right time comes, Heeseung is the most gentle and caring person in the world. He's passionate, but slow. He asks you if you are sure a lot of times before doing something. He looks at you with those gentle fascinated eyes, giving you compliments as you take your clothes off. 

“You're so beautiful…” he whispers, leaning closer to you to kiss your naked chest, caressing your sides with his hands. 

I feel like for the first time he would be kinda shy to talk a lot, but he would remind himself to do it. When he sees your reaction to his words, Heeseung gets more confident. With each moan that follows his movement, he would become braver and bolder. 

“That's it, baby…” he murmurs, feeling you clenching around his fingers as he pulls them in and out, warming you up, “You feel so good around me”

He would let you cum before the main part as much as you want. On his fingers, on his tongue. Even though he's really hard and it's difficult to control himself, Heeseung would give you the best he can, making sure you receive enough stimulation. 

“Let it go, baby. Let me taste you well” he mumbles before pulling to your pussy again, sliding his tongue inside you, his nose massaging your clit. 

He would give himself off for 200%, being in the moment fully. When it comes to the main part, you have already come twice and he still hasn't even once. When you suggested a blowjob, he almost choked on the air, imagining your mouth around his cock, but didn't let you do anything. 

“Not today, baby…” he said as his ears turned red. “Or you want to stop? That's okay” Heeseung asked to make sure that you didn't suggest a blowjob just as an excuse.  “No, no, no. I don't want to stop” you answered, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck, “Don't stop…” you whispered and Heeseung couldn't help but smirked. “I got you, princess. I won't stop.”

I can say that when he finally slides inside you it's going to be the best feeling he's ever experienced. And it would become his favorite moment from now. 

Also, I feel like he's not into aftercare when it comes to himself, but he cares about you. Like he doesn't care if he's sweaty and covered all over your cum. Heeseung is going to ask you about your feelings first, to help you clean yourself. 

+ bonus

I feel like when he's used to sex with you, he's going to become wild. He just loves to make you feel good, loves to know that he can make you feel that way. He's going to find out a lot of things about himself through sex with you. 

It doesn't mean that he would be rude for no reason, only if you ask him to. He's always gentle with you, but also ready to do whatever you want to make you feel good. And trust me, if you want something from him, he's gonna be the best at it. ;)

[sashaasreads]

Love n' London

Harry Styles x Fem Reader

A/N Apologies for the delay! I’ve been busy, but I’m finally getting to upload again. Still no smut—I’m working on finding the right approach to write it without it feeling awkward. Thanks for your patience!

_______________________________________

Y/n grew up dreaming of living in London. Ever since she was a child, the city had fascinated her its vibrant art scene, the music, the historic architecture, and the countless little cafes. So, after graduating from art school, she packed her things and moved to the city, full of ambition and excitement.

She found a job as a curator’s assistant in a small gallery in Soho. It was the perfect job, really she spent her days surrounded by paintings and sculptures, getting to know local artists, and learning how to put together exhibitions. It wasn’t glamorous, but Lena loved it.

One grey October afternoon, y/n was at her usual spot in the gallery. She had just finished adjusting a painting, making sure it was perfectly aligned, when the bell over the door chimed, signaling a visitor. She glanced up to see a figure in the doorway, his frame silhouetted against the dim light outside. He was tall, with a tousled head of curls peeking out from under a beanie, a coat draped over his shoulders.

As he stepped inside, Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. The face beneath those curls was unmistakable Harry Styles, the singer she had admired for years. She had seen him in interviews, photos, and music videos, but nothing compared to seeing him in person.

Harry caught her looking and gave a small, shy smile. She blushed, quickly looking away, pretending to adjust her clipboard. But Harry approached her, offering a charming, friendly "Hello."

Y/n stammered out a greeting, her cheeks flushed as she tried to act calm. "Can I help you with something?"

“Actually,” he said with a little laugh, “I’m here to see some art, but I’d love a guide if you’re available.”

It turned out Harry was in town with a few days off between tour stops and had been wandering through London, exploring its art scene. Y/n walked him through the gallery, explaining each piece. She was passionate about her work, and he seemed genuinely interested, asking her thoughtful questions. They talked about art, music, and their favorite places in London.

After their tour, Harry surprised her by inviting her to a late lunch at a small café nearby. Still in shock, she accepted, and they spent the afternoon laughing and talking as though they’d known each other for years. Y/n found herself opening up to him in a way she rarely did, talking about her dreams, her childhood, and the strange mix of fear and excitement she felt about living in London.

Over the next few weeks, they continued to meet. Harry would drop by the gallery whenever he was free, sometimes bringing coffee or flowers. They would spend hours talking, sharing stories, and discovering new corners of the city together. Y/n soon realized that Harry, for all his fame and glamour, was remarkably down to earth. He seemed genuinely fascinated by her, by her art, by her life. And she, in turn, found herself falling deeper each day.

One crisp evening in November, after a quiet dinner in a little Italian restaurant tucked away in a side street, they found themselves walking along the Thames. The lights of London sparkled on the water, casting soft, dancing reflections. They walked in comfortable silence, fingers occasionally brushing against each other’s.

Harry stopped, turning to face her. His green eyes held a softness that took her breath away.

“y/n ,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This might sound crazy, but I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

Y/n felt her heart pounding. She wanted to say something, but words seemed too small to capture what she felt. So she simply reached out, taking his hand in hers, and they stood there, the world fading away around them.

As the weeks turned into months, Harry’s tours took him to different cities, but he and y/n stayed in touch, talking late into the night, sharing stories, and sending each other songs and sketches. The distance was hard, but their bond only seemed to grow stronger with time.

Whenever he was back in London, they would pick up right where they left off. They explored every hidden gem in the city together, from art galleries and vintage bookstores to secret gardens and rooftop views. Harry introduced her to his world, taking her backstage at his concerts, letting her experience the thrill and energy of his performances. y/n introduced him to hers, taking him to underground art shows and showing him her latest work.

Their love story was a quiet, steady thing, like the pulse of the city itself. They were each other’s inspiration. Y/n's paintings became infused with new colors and emotions, and Harry’s songs took on a deeper, more soulful tone. She was his muse, and he was hers.

One rainy evening, a few years after they’d first met, Harry surprised her with a visit to the gallery. He was holding an umbrella and looked every bit as dashing as the day she’d first seen him. She was setting up a new exhibit and hadn’t expected him to come. But there he was, standing there with that familiar smile, his eyes shining.

“Harry!” She ran over, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said, his voice warm and full of excitement. He led her outside and down the street, and before she knew it, they were at a small, empty theater. Inside, a grand piano stood on the dimly lit stage.

He sat down at the piano, motioning for her to sit beside him. Then, he began to play. It was a song she’d never heard before, gentle, heartfelt, each note weaving a story of love, devotion, and all the golden moments they’d shared.

When he finished, he looked at her, his face softened with vulnerability. “I wrote this for you, y/n. You’ve changed my life in ways I can’t put into words.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she took his hand, squeezing it. They didn’t need to say anything; the silence between them spoke louder than words ever could.

That night, in that quiet, empty theater, with only the faint glow of city lights around them, they knew they had found something rare, something lasting. The kind of love that was more than a moment it was a lifetime, etched in songs and sketches, laughter and quiet glances, memories, and dreams.

In each other, they had found a piece of themselves they never knew was missing a love that was as deep as the city they both called home.

[badasbebi]

not my fault ➛ 2/2

read part one

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: discovering that a cute girl you saw at your college orientation is your roommate, you become eager to get to know her. however, things quickly go awry when she turns out to be much more difficult to get along with than you could've imagined and abruptly leaves you in the dust. fueled by your terrible experiences with her and rumors about her dating habits, you swear to stay away from her at all costs. will you be able to keep your promise?

✦ genre/au: fluff, smut, my poor attempt at a rom-com, college!au, enemies to lovers, (very slight) roommates to lovers

✦ word count: 9.8k (im still embarrassed)

✦ warnings: isn't proofread. MDNI!!!! top!bada, top!reader for 2 seconds, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), bada is a giver, one of my first attempts at smut so please bear with me lmao.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

At this point, the school needed to compensate you for how much time you were spending watching and judging their sports teams. Or, maybe you should be paying rent, with how often you're staying here. The thought alone makes you cringe. Tuition was enough. 

Your legs are crossed, and a notebook rests on your lap as you sit in the bleachers, observing the dance team once again. This time, you're not waiting for Lusher. You're here for Bada, who said she could only meet with you after practice today. You're just grateful you're indoors today, and away from volant objects.

It's been a few days since the interview, and you've managed to avoid seeing her in person as much as possible. You've been communicating solely through text, not even bothering to exchange words in class. You know it's childish, but you don’t have the vigor to deal with her head-on. Besides, this way, you can focus on your part of the project, and not Bada's... everything.

You scan the gym floor and pinpoint her. Today, she's wearing a short-sleeved shirt and another pair of cargo pants, driving you to deliberate about how many she owns. If you looked that good in everything, did it matter?

You shake your head, averting your eyes before she notices your staring. You're not even sure what the purpose of your being here is. You probably could've waited to come closer to the end of practice. it was an admittedly nice way to occupy your time while you waited, you assure yourself.

The team is working on a new routine, one that involves a lot of acrobatics. They're running through their routine for the third time. Each time, they seem to get better, their movements more fluid and precise. You watch, fascinated, as Bada twists and turns, her limbs moving in a way that seems almost impossible. She's incredible. She's probably the best dancer on the team, not that you would ever tell her that.

After what feels like an eternity, the music comes to an end, and the team collapses to the ground, panting and sweaty. You're a little out of breath just watching them.

"Good job, guys," Bada says, her voice ringing through the large gym.

"Thanks," someone calls out, her tone laced with exhaustion.

"Let's call it a day," she says.

There's a collective sigh of relief as the team gathers their things and starts to leave. A few people linger, chatting with each other. Bada is one of them, talking to a group of girls. You try not to stare, but it's hard not to notice the way she laughs and smiles around them.

You look away, darting your eyes around the room, when someone catches your eye. Once you realize who it is, your blood runs cold. How did you not notice her before? Probably because of Bada. Damn that woman.

Aiki is on the opposite side of the gym, standing near the door. She's talking to someone and hasn't seemed to notice you yet.

The last thing you need right now is to run into Aiki. That encounter last year was awkward enough. You have no interest in rehashing the whole mess, especially with Bada so nearby.

You snatch your stuff, flying down the bleachers at a speed you did not realize you were capable of. You take the steps two at a time, adrenaline is burning in your veins, nearly tripping over yourself in the process.

You finally reach the bottom, and without a second thought, duck under the bleachers, hiding yourself from view like a criminal hiding from the police. 

Your heart is racing, and you lean against a pole, trying to catch your breath. You peek out and see Aiki still hasn't noticed you. She's chatting animatedly with whoever she's talking to and doesn't seem concerned about finding you.

You breathe a sigh of relief, and slide down to the ground. You rest your head against the pole, and close your eyes, willing your heart rate to slow down. This was ridiculous. You needed to exercise more.

"What the hell, y/n?" a familiar voice calls from behind you. You scream, jumping up and banging your head on the metal.

"Ouch," you hiss, rubbing the tender spot.

"What are you doing?" Bada asks, her tone equal parts amusement and annoyance.

"Uh, nothing," you say, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"This is so weird," she states.

"Sorry," you mutter, ducking your head.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her tone softening.

"I'm fine," you say, brushing her off.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you sigh.

She takes a step towards you. "I can help you. I'm a nurse's aid, remember?" she points out, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

"No, it's fine, I'm okay."

"Okay, well, if you're not gonna tell me what's going on, can you come out from under there, at least?"

"Uh—"

"Y/n?!" Lusher's voice rings out, running up to the bleachers.

"Shit," you whisper. You did not need two witnesses present for this mortifying experience. 

"What are you doing?" Lusher says, peering over Bada's shoulder. 

"Nothing," you call, trying to sound casual.

"Why are you hiding under the bleachers right now?"

"I'm not," you lie, wincing. 

"Y/n," Bada says, shaking her head.

"Shhh," you hush.

"You're ridiculous," she chuckles.

"Both of you, come!" you hiss. 

"Is she serious right now?" Lusher whispers to Bada.

"Apparently," she sighs.

"Come on," you say, reaching out and grabbing Bada's wrist.

You pull her towards you, and she stumbles, losing her balance and landing on top of you. The both of you yelp in surprise, and a laugh escapes your mouth. It's surprisingly comfortable. You resist the urge to pull her closer.

"Sorry," Bada apologizes, her face inches from yours.

"It's okay," you say, your breath catching.

You're suddenly aware of the warmth of her body and the closeness of her lips.

"Uh, we should probably get up," she murmurs.

"Right," you say, nodding, but neither of you move.

"Hello?! Are you about to have sex?!" Lusher's annoyed voice snaps you out of your trance.

"No! uh, let's get up. Seriously," you say, gently pushing Bada off.

“Good idea,” she agrees. 

Bada stands up, and holds out her hand, helping you up.

"Thanks," you mumble, feeling your face grow hot.

"Y/n, seriously, what is going on?" Lusher demands, her patience wearing thin.

You step toward her, glaring. "When did Aiki join the dance team, huh? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Lusher's mouth widens into an 'o'. She sticks her finger up, gearing up to defend herself. 

"Um, she didn’t,” Bada cuts in. "She's just helping us choreograph some of our routines."

"Oh," you say. 

"She’s really good, so I thought it’d be fun to collaborate with her,” Bada explains.

"So, she's not a member of the dance team," Lusher clarifies, giving you a pointed look. 

"Nope," Bada says. 

"Oh, well, uh, good," you say, a mixture of confusion and relief swirling within you.

"So, why are you asking about Aiki?" Bada asks, rubbing the back of her neck.

"She's my ex."

"What?" Bada's mouth drops.

"Yeah,” you admit, woefully. 

"Really?"

"It's a long story," you sigh.

"Huh," Bada says, looking stunned.

"So, that's why you were hiding under the bleachers?" Lusher inquires.

"Yeah. I didn't feel like talking to her."

Bada still looks dumbfounded. She's staring at you, and it's starting to make you nervous.

"Well, that’s silly! But I'm glad you're not in danger, or whatever," Lusher says.

"No. I was,” you deadpan. 

Lusher snorts and shakes her head. "Anyway, I know you're here for Bada. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll leave you guys be," she says, wiggling her eyebrows, out of Bada's sight.

You hiss at her, imagining strangulation. 

"Bye, Bada. Bye, y/n. I'll see you at home," she calls, sauntering away. 

You shoot her a middle finger.

"Bye," Bada says with a small wave. 

She turns to face you, and she stares at you, hard, her eyes unreadable. Your stomach churns with anxiety.

"Nothing," she says, a small smile forming on her face.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I just didn't know that Aiki was your ex-girlfriend."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," you retort.

"True," she says, the smile never leaving her face.

"Anyway, can we get going now? We have work to do," you say, trying to get the conversation back on track.

"Right," she says. "Lead the way."

You walk side by side, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable.

"So," she starts, clearing her throat. "I was thinking...would you mind stopping somewhere and getting something to eat?"

You stop walking.

"Why? Are you hungry?" you ask, suspicious.

"Yeah, a little," she says, rubbing her stomach.

"What are you craving?"

"Anything is fine," she says, a little too quickly.

"Bada, just tell me," you groan, annoyed.

"Okay, fine. I've been wanting to try this new Korean BBQ place that opened a few blocks away."

You bite the inside of your cheek. Of course, she wants to go to a restaurant. You're not sure why you were expecting anything else.

"Um, I guess we could do that," you say, hesitantly.

"Great!"

You follow her as she leads you out of the gym and into the bright, warm afternoon sun.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You find yourself sitting in the booth across from Bada, staring at a plate of food. 

"What's wrong?" Bada asks, noticing your apprehension.

"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile.

"Okay," she says, not sounding convinced.

You pick up a piece of meat and put it on your plate. The smell is amazing, and your mouth waters.

"Are you going to eat?" Bada asks, gesturing towards your untouched food.

"Yeah," you reply, picking up a piece and bringing it to your lips.

"So, um, how have you been?" she asks, breaking the silence.

"Fine," you say, taking a bite.

"That's good."

"Yeah," you say, chewing.

"And, uh, how's your part of project going?"

"It's going," you respond, swallowing.

"Cool."

"Mhm," you hum, not bothering to elaborate.

You hear a sigh. "Do you always have to be like this?" she asks, exasperated.

You huff. "Like what?"

"Cold. Distant," she says. 

"Excuse me?" you snap.

"You're always so closed off. It's frustrating."

You drop your chopsticks. "Are you messing with me right now? You're the one that's been standoffish since I've met you. And what was with that whole moving out situation that you still haven't given me an explanation for, by the way?"

Her face softens. "Look, I'm sorry about all that. I was just...going through something."

"What were you going through?"

She averts her gaze, and fidgets with her chopsticks.

"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to tell me," you say, feeling bad for pushing her.

She bites her lip, and your eyes are drawn to the movement.

"I don't mind telling you, but can it wait until later? I don't know if it's the right time."

You nod, and return to eating, a little more at ease than before.

"So, you and Aiki?" she says, after a beat.

You freeze. You were hoping that she had forgotten about that.

"Yep," you say, your voice tight.

"How did it happen?"

You shrug. "It was just a short high school fling. But, you know, first lesbian heartbreak and all."

She snorts. "I get that."

"Really?" you respond, leaning forward. You're too nosy to pass up on this.

"Yeah," she says, a little sheepish.

"Who was it? Do I know them?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Is it Doyeon?" you guess, grinning.

Bada nearly chokes on her food. "What?! No. She's just...no," she sputters.

"Tatter?"

Bada squeals, shoving her head in her hands. "Ew, no! She's like a sister to me."

"Hm," you say, tapping your chin.

She glares at you. "It's none of your business."

You shrug. "I'm just surprised, that's all," you say, nonchalant.

"Why?"

"Well," you begin, resting your elbows on the table. "You're like, a total heartthrob. Everyone's crazy about you."

She lets out a bark of laughter. "No, I'm not," she says, dismissive.

"You are," you insist. "Do you know the vile things I've heard women say about you? I'm surprised you don't need bodyguards. You have literal fangirls."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, maybe a few girls like me. But, they're not crazy."

"I beg to differ."

"Whatever," she laughs.

"All I'm saying is that I'm surprised you've gotten your heartbroken by women before. It seems like you'd be able to get any girl you wanted, and keep them."

Her face grows solemn. "It doesn't always work like that," she says.

You're taken aback. Her eyes are a storm, dark and intense.

"I guess you're right," you agree, trying to break the tension.

She clears her throat. "Let's just eat."

You're confused, and a little worried, but you're also starving.

"Right," you say.

The rest of the meal is silent, the two of you not making eye contact.

After a few minutes, she finally speaks up.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," you reply, grateful to be leaving.

"Let's get going, then," she says, grabbing her card.

You slide your backpack across the seat, toward your body. "I'll pay," you offer, pulling your wallet out. 

"No, it's fine," she insists, reaching across the table and swatting your hand away. 

"Bada," you warn, a little annoyed.

"It's just one meal, and I asked you to come here with me. It's only fair that I pay."

You open your mouth to protest, but the look on her face stops you.

"Fine," you grumble, shoving your wallet inside your bag. 

"Thank you," she says, giving you a small smile.

She gets up, and heads for the door. You follow her lead, getting up from the table, uneasiness settling in your stomach. 

The two of you make your way to the cash register, where the hostess greets her enthusiastically. She hands her the bill, and Bada hands her the credit card, and the hostess takes it, grazing Bada's hand with a coy smile. You glance at one of the tables nearby, contemplating how much of a hassle it'd be to gouge your eyes out with chopsticks. You decide against it, knowing that you'd probably be banned from this delicious restaurant and would never be able to return. You sigh, depressed, and when you focus on Bada again, you're caught off guard by what you witness. Bada thanks the hostess and turns to leave, not bothering to wait for the receipt. The hostess frowns and calls out a goodbye, which is met with Bada's disinterested wave. You trail behind her, raising an eyebrow at her, and she ignores your questioning look. 

Rather, Bada grabs your wrist and guides you outside. You try not to notice the way her palm feels against yours. Yet, you are unable to suppress the smirk that emerges on your face. 

Once you're outside, she drops her hand, and you're reminded of the discomfort that occurred in the restaurant.

You squint. The sun has started to set, casting a glow over the city. The streets are crowded, the hustle and bustle of people passing by.

"Give me your bag," Bada demands, holding out her hand. 

You gape at her, then clutch your backpack, surveying your surroundings for any law enforcement. "Sorry, what?" 

"Your bag. Give it to me." she repeats, her hand still extended.

"Are you trying to rob me?" you ask, baffled. 

"What? No. Why would I do that?" she clarifies, incredulous. "I'm walking you home, and we have a long way to go. Your bag is gonna get heavy. So, give it to me." she explains, wiggling her fingers.

"Oh," you say, feeling foolish. You loosen your grip on your bag. "No need for that! I can take care of myself."

She gives you an impatient look. "Do you have to argue with me about everything? Just let me walk with you, please."

"Fine," you relent, sliding the backpack off your shoulder and handing it to her.

"Thank you," she sighs. 

She takes a step closer to you, and to your surprise, laces her free arm through yours.

"Lead the way," she instructs, motioning ahead.

You stare at the place where your arms are interlocked. "What are you doing?" you question, alarmed.

"What does it look like? I'm walking with you."

"Uh, I guess," you say, your heart racing.

"Ready?"

"Sure" you mutter, defeated. 

"Let's go."

You begin walking, your arms intertwined. Your pulse is erratic, and the closeness of her is sending heat waves throughout your body. You're sure she can feel the beating of your heart.

You walk in silence, the sounds of the city filling the air.

"I'm sorry if I got a little weird back there," Bada says, breaking the silence.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I didn't mean to make things awkward. I just...get a little sensitive when it comes to talking about my love life."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she admits, sighing.

"Well, that's understandable. It's hard talking about failed relationships."

"Exactly," she says, turning to look at you. "But, thank you for understanding."

You feel the weight of her stare, and a blush rises to your cheeks. What was going on with you right now?

"Don't mention it."

"Y/n," she says, her voice low.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for going to dinner with me."

"Of course," you say, your words caught in your throat.

"I had a really good time."

You can't think of a response, her brown eyes drawing you in.

"Me too," you manage.

Her mouth curves into a grin.

"Can I do something?" she whispers.

"Um, yeah, sure."

She leans in, and adjusts a strand of hair that's fallen onto your face. Your breathing quickens. You didn't even realize that a strand was in front of your face. Her eyes are locked onto yours, and her hand lingers on the side of your face. 

"Better," she says, her face centimeters away from yours.

You swallow. "I- uh- thank you."

She pulls away, and a sense of disappointment settles within you.

"It was nothing," she says, her eyes twinkling.

"Okay," you reply, unable to form a coherent sentence.

You're both silent again, and the rest of the walk passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're at your doorstep.

"This is it," you say, turning to her.

"This is your apartment?" 

"Yep," you confirm, reaching into your pocket for your keys.

"Alright, cool," she says, tossing you your backpack.

You catch it, the straps hitting you in the face. Please stop this madness, you think. At least you caught it. Maybe there's still hope for you. 

"Thank you," you say, slinging it onto your back. 

"Of course," she flashes you a bright smile, and your heart skips a beat. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” you confess, your palms sweaty. "I'll see you tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow," she echoes, her voice soft.

You're not sure what else to say, so you give her a small wave and head for the door.

"Goodnight, y/n," she calls gently, as you reach for the handle. You turn to look at her, and her eyes are shining, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Goodnight, Bada," you respond, giving her a smile.

She nods, and with one final glance, she turns and walks away. You watch her retreating figure, and let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"What the hell was that?" you whisper, your head spinning.

You enter your apartment. It's dark. Lusher must not be home, which makes you want to cry. You wanted to talk to her about today.  You throw yourself onto the couch. You replay the evening's events in your head, and as you do, you feel an incoming headache.

You sigh, and close your eyes. Tonight was weird. Really, really weird.

Your phone buzzes, and you grab it from the coffee table. You have one new message.

You unlock your phone, and check the message. It's from Bada.

Bada: hey, did you get inside your apartment alright?

Y/N: yes

Bada: good. i was just making sure. 

Y/N: thanks.

Bada: no problem. :)

You stare at the screen, and quickly type out a response.

Y/N: thanks for tonight. i had a really great time.

Bada: me too. 

Bada: we should do it again sometime!

Bada: I mean, other than our meet-ups for the project. 

This is when you remember for the first time since the end of dinner that the two of you are doing a project together. That was the original reason for meeting. 

You: yeah, definitely.

Bada: awesome!

Bada: sweet dreams <3

Y/N: night.

You throw your phone down. Your head is reeling. As you lay there, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the memory of her fingers brushing your cheek plays in your mind. The warmth of her touch. The softness. And her eyes. Her eyes.

You let out a sigh, and rub your temples.

"Get a hold of yourself," you mumble.

But, no matter how much you try, you can't stop the butterflies in your stomach, or the warmth in your chest. Something shifted today. Maybe it shifted from the moment you began working on this project together. With every meeting, Bada proved to you that she's not the stuck-up, self-centered person you thought she was. No. She's smart. And she's kind. So, so kind. Gentle. Talented. Nothing aligned with the image of her that you created in your head.

As much as you've tried to push these feelings away, deny them, repress them, they keep coming back. And with the way she's acting, the way she's been treating you, it feels like she may feel the same. But, what if you're wrong?

The thought scares you. If she didn't reciprocate, the embarrassment would be insurmountable. It would ruin everything. Your seemingly newfound friendship. The project. Regardless of how great tonight was, you cannot help but think back to that day in the locker rooms, and how dismayed she sounded at the thought of asking you out. Even if her feelings have shifted and she finds you attractive now, what if that's all that it is? Attraction. Lust. The thought of it makes you nauseous. You're not sure you could survive her using you and then discarding you, like some kind of toy, like the other ones. 

No, it's better to remain friends. Just friends. Besides, you're sure that these feelings will dissipate soon. They have to. Right? Maybe you'd just steer clear of her for a little while to be safe. It'll give her the space she needs to forget about this, and give you the time to bury these stupid feelings.

You decide to text her.

Y/N: hey, i'm really tired. can we reschedule tomorrow's study session for next week?

She replies almost immediately.

Bada: yeah, no problem. are you okay?

Y/N: yes

Y/N: just had a long day.

Bada: alright, take care.

Y/N: will do.

Bada: oh, and one more thing.

Y/N: ?

Bada: thank you again.

Bada: i mean it.

Bada: and i'm glad that we're friends.

Your stomach flutters. Friends. Yes. This is exactly what you need.

Bada: goodnight.

Y/N: sweet dreams.

You toss your phone onto the couch, and get up. You're exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. You need to get to bed. You trudge to the bathroom, and wash up. Then, you change, and climb into bed. As you drift off to sleep, a million thoughts are swirling through your mind. But, the one that lingers is the image of her eyes, warm and bright, staring at you.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You're lying in bed, your laptop open, the blue light washing over you. The room is silent, save for the sounds of your keyboard, the tapping of keys. It's late. Really late. But, you can't sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see her. Those brown, inviting eyes.

You groan and sit up. You need a distraction. You can't use your phone, because you'd have to face the dozens of unread texts from Bada that have been collecting dust for the past couple weeks. You haven't talked to her at all since that night, even going as far as to skip the class that you have with her. It seems like she's given up trying to reach you, as today is the first day you've gone without a message from her. Thank God. 

You pull your laptop onto your lap, and open a random YouTube video.

It's a funny skit. A couple. They're arguing. About something mundane, trivial. You find yourself laughing. For a moment, you forget about her. But, the feeling doesn't last. Because, after the skit is over, the next video starts.

It's a music video. Two women. They're singing. It's a love song. You can't focus on the lyrics, the images, the sound. All you can see is her. Those eyes.

You slam the laptop shut and throw it onto the bed.

"Dammit," you mutter.

You can't think straight. Everything is clouded by her. By Bada. You're losing your mind. You need air.

You stand and walk to the window. You look outside. It's quiet. There are few cars, no people. Just the lights, casting their glow upon the buildings.

You rest your head against the window, and sigh. You've never felt this way before. It's maddening. Infuriating. But, you can't help it.

You hear your door open, and Lusher steps into the room.

"Hey," she greets.

"Hi."

"What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," you reply, not turning around.

Lusher leans against the wall, studying you. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Y/n," she sighs, "You know that you can tell me anything."

"I know."

"So, what's going on?"

"I don't know," you shrug.

She walks towards you and stands beside you.

"Come on," she insists, "Tell me."

"It's stupid," you grumble, shaking your head.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Fine," you relent.

"Let's hear it," she presses.

"Well," you start, "It's about Bada."

Lusher smirks. "I knew it."

"You knew what?"

"That you had a crush on her."

"Wait, what?" you splutter, turning to face her.

"You're so obvious," she accuses, crossing her arms.

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh, please," she laughs, "Even when you claimed to hate her it was written all over your face. I mean, why else would you be so upset over your roommate of one day leaving you? Because you had a humongous crush on her and got embarrassed when she seemingly rejected you!"

"That's not it at all," you retort. "It was the principle! I mean, filing a complaint against me is crazy."

"Y/n," she says, gently. "You have a crush. It's normal."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure if the feelings are reciprocated."

"You know, the day that you guys got paired up for that project, she sent me a text asking me what kind of coffee you liked. We'd never even texted before that," she reveals. 

You blink in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah," she chuckles. "Apparently, she was trying to get on your good side and impress you."

"Wow," you mumble.

"But, I guess I ruined it for her," she jokes.

"Why'd you tell her about the coffee?"

"Because, I'm your friend. And I could tell that you liked her. A lot."

"I don't know," you say, shaking your head. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything. She's a flirt, and she's nice to everyone."

"You're not wrong. But, y/n, you gotta trust your instincts. If you feel something, go for it."

"Maybe," you respond, not sure if you're convinced.

"Just don't sit here and dwell on it," she says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Can we get out of here?" you ask, still wanting a distraction.

"Sure. Where to?"

"Anywhere. The library. A bar. A club. Just, not here."

"Alright," she says, grinning. "Let's go."

–

Lusher brings you to a house party. You're not in the mood, but she manages to convince you to come. After a couple of drinks, you're feeling a bit more relaxed. The music is loud, and the crowd is rowdy, but you don't mind. It's a welcome distraction from your thoughts.

"There she is," Lusher shouts, pointing to a familiar figure.

It's Bada. Her hair is tied into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a short-sleeved patterned button-down shirt, black baggy pants. She looks good, as always. She's dancing with a group of friends. There are a couple women standing suspiciously close to her, giving her heart eyes. 

"Do you want to say hi?" Lusher asks, nudging you.

"No," you yell over the noise, "She looks like she's having fun. We should leave her alone."

She gives you a pitiful look and sighs. "If you say so."

You take another sip of your drink. You watch her as she dances, her hips swaying, her arms above her head. She looks happy. Carefree. You can't help but admire her, even now, in this house full of people. She's beautiful. Ethereal. The way the light catches her hair, her skin. She's captivating.

"Excuse me," a voice interrupts your train of thought.

You turn around. It's Aiki. 

It's settled. Someone has invoked a curse on you, and you're doomed to suffer incessant encounters with unattainable women who have broken your heart until the end of time.

"Hey, Aiki," you greet, attempting to hide your discomfort.

"Hey," she responds, her gaze flickering to Lusher. "And who's this?"

"I'm Lusher, y/n's best friend. We went to school together. I'm also on the dance team."

"Oh, right! The famous Lusher," she exclaims, offering her hand. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Same," she nods, taking her hand.

Aiki's attention returns to you. "Y/n, I didn't expect to see you here," she notes, sipping her beer.

"Yeah, well, here I am," you laugh awkwardly.

"You should come dance with us," she invites, motioning towards the crowd.

"No, thanks. I'm not much of a dancer."

"Really? You looked pretty good when we danced together," she comments, smiling.

You laugh. "Trust me, that was a one-time thing."

"Aw, come on. I'd love to see you dance again," she insists.

"No, really. It's not happening," you say, holding up your hands.

"Oh, c'mon. Just one dance," she begs, taking a step closer.

You mull this over, tapping your fingers against your cup. "Well, maybe just one."

"Yes!" she cheers, grabbing your hand.

You glance at Lusher, who offers an encouraging thumbs-up.

Aiki leads you to the dance floor, and the two of you join the throng of sweaty bodies. She begins to dance, her hips gyrating, her arms raised above her head.

"C'mon," she urges, "Join me."

You hesitate, not wanting to embarrass yourself, but her enthusiasm is infectious.

You begin to move, swaying your hips to the beat.

She steps closer, her hand finding its way to your waist. "That's it," she praises, her voice low and seductive.

Your pulse quickens. You can't help but be reminded of the last time the two of you were this close, the night when she asked you out.

Her grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches, and your eyes lock.

"Y/n," she whispers, her lips inches from yours.

Your heart hammers in your chest. You feel her fingers trailing along your side, her body pressed against yours. The music drowns out all rational thought. All that matters is her, the heat of her touch, the sound of her voice. Her breath is warm against your cheek. Her hand caresses your neck, drawing you closer. Your eyes flutter closed, and—

A heavy weight comes crashing into the two of you, sending the both of you stumbling backward.

"Watch it," you snap, looking over to see the culprit.

And it's Bada, of course.

She's holding a red cup, staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression. 

"Sorry," she mutters, taking a step back.

 You glance at Aiki, who looks like she's bordering on being concussed, and then settle your gaze back on Bada. 

"Bada? Where the hell did you come from?" you question, rubbing your forehead.

Her jaw clenches. "Nowhere."

You let out a short, dry, disbelieving snort. “That explains a bunch.”

"Sorry," she repeats. "I tripped."

"Right," you say, not believing her.

"Where have you been?" she asks, taking a small sip of her drink. You study her face, noticing the pink flush on her cheeks. You'd assume it was the alcohol, but she doesn't seem drunk. 

"Around," you answer, crossing your arms.

"Well, I didn't see you at class," she points out, taking another sip.

"I was busy," you lie, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

"So busy you couldn't even give me a heads up?"

"Yup," you reply, popping the p.

"What about our project?"

"Is that all you care about?" you retaliate.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, sucking in a breath. "No, but-"

"Um," Aiki pipes up, lifting herself off of the floor. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" you say. 

 "Yes," Bada responds at the same time, venom laced through her voice.

"Bada," you growl, glaring at her. "Stop."

"Well, are you not done?"

"Done with what?"

 "Her," she spits. 

 "Alright, well," Aiki interjects, holding up her hands. "I'm done! I'm gonna head out, Y/N. I'll catch you later...or not." Aiki says, fast-walking away with a limp.

"Bada," you whisper, anger bubbling up in your throat.

"What?" she says, her gaze piercing.

"Are you kidding me?"

"What, did I ruin your date?"

"Date?" you scoff, shaking your head. "That wasn't a date."

"Uh-huh, right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Me?" she scoffs, stepping forward.

"Yes, you!"

"You're the one who's being difficult here, y/n. Not me." she retorts, setting her drink down on a nearby table.

"How am I being difficult? All I've done is try and do the project. I've put up with all your shit."

"Forget about the stupid project! This is about us."

"There is no us," you shout, jabbing your finger into her chest.

"I know you don't mean that."

"You're unbelievable," you grumble, pushing past her, up the stairs.

"Don't walk away from me," she demands, chasing after you.

"Leave me alone, Bada."

"No," she protests, reaching for your wrist.

You stop, turning around. "I told you to stop," you yell, shoving her away.

"I'm not going anywhere," she warns, her eyes narrowed.

"God," you groan, massaging your temples. "You're impossible."

"And you're being a coward," she snaps.

"Coward?"

"You're avoiding me," she states, her voice steady and calm.

"Maybe I am," you fire back.

"Why?"

"Because, you're exhausting," you explain, throwing your hands up.

"Exhausting," she echoes.

"Yes, exhausting," you affirm. "I can't stand you, Bada. You're arrogant and conceited and-"

"You want me," she interjects, her voice barely above a whisper.

"W-what?"

"You. Want. Me," she repeats, each word slow and deliberate.

"I-I..." you stammer, rendered mute. You were not prepared for this level of confrontation. This is not how you expected tonight to go in the slightest. You couldn't tell Bada  you wanted her, even if you did. And, now, you know you do. More than anything. You've been wanting her for so long. But it's not like she wants you back in the same way.

"Tell me that I'm wrong."

"Bada, I—"

"Tell me that I'm wrong, and I'll never bring it up again."

You open your mouth to speak, but the words die on your tongue.

"See," she laughs, though there's no humor behind it.

"Shut up," you murmur, massaging your forehead. 

"No," she defies, stepping closer.

"You're so annoying," you complain, turning around.

She follows you. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, stomping further up the staircase.

"Y/n," she pleads, grabbing your arm. "Just tell me that I'm wrong."

"Bada, let it go."

"Tell me," she begs. 

You turn around, infuriated, your veins pulsating. "What is the point of this? Do you just want me to tell you that I want you so that you can feel good about yourself?"

"The point of it is that I like you, y/n! I really, really, like you. And you keep pushing me away! Why?" She exclaims, throwing her hands up. 

You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you're too angry to care. Bada's confession should give you some solace, but it only makes the ache in your chest stronger. You need to get out of here. Get away from her. You can't deal with this anymore. You can't take it. She's too much. She doesn't understand. She doesn't know how badly it'd wound you if things didn't work out. If she ended up hurting you. Or worse, forgetting about you. 

"Because," you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling, attempting to calm yourself down. “I don't want to get hurt."

“Y/n," she says gently, stepping forward.

"Don't," you warn.

"I would never hurt you," she reassures, her hand cupping your cheek.

You stare into her eyes, searching for any trace of dishonesty, but find none.

"I would never intentionally hurt you," she corrects, a sad smile on her face.

"Bada," you mumble, her hand warm on your skin.

"I know you're scared," she continues, her voice soft and soothing. "But I promise, I'll take care of you."

"Bada, you don't understand," you argue, stepping back.

"Then help me understand."

"I..." you trail off, unsure of how to continue. "I like you. I like you a lot. But I just cant stop thinking about that whole roommate situation. And...I heard you say something in the locker rooms one day when I was visiting Lusher."

Her eyebrows furrow. "What'd you hear?"

"You said that you didn't want to me. At all," you explain, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Oh, y/n," she sighs. "That's not true."

"What?"

"I've liked you for a long time. Probably since I first saw you. That's actually why I switched rooms. I didn't think you'd be into me, and I was afraid of rejection, so I ran away," she confesses, her gaze cast downward.

"Bada," you breathe, shocked.

"But I'm done being scared. And I'm tired of running," she declares, looking back up.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm not going anywhere," she promises, taking your hands.

"Bada, are you sure? This is a lot."

"I've never been more sure about anything," she states, her tone firm. "But are you going to stop running too?"

"Bada, I—"

"Please, y/n. Take a chance on me." she requests, squeezing your hands.

 Was the risk worth it? Were you willing to put your heart on the line? Would she keep her promise and not break your heart? The questions flood your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. But, when you look into her eyes, the answer is a clear yes. Because, really, now that everything was on the table, when did she ever give you reason to doubt her? When did she not deliver? Maybe it was time for you to have some faith in her, just like she has faith in you, right now.

You exhale. "Okay," you relent.

"You will?"

"Yes,” you nod, vigorously. “Let’s give this a try."

"Yay!" she exclaims, pulling you into a hug. You laugh, wrapping your arms around her waist.

"I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. I felt so awkward and shy around you, I didn't know what to do" she apologizes, burying her face in the crook of your neck.

"It's okay," you say, running your hands along her back.

She removes herself from the embrace, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. She studies your face, her eyes roaming over your features.

"Can I kiss you?" she questions, her thumb caressing your cheek.

"I guess so," you shrug, feigning nonchalance with a sly smile on your face. Deep down, you've been waiting for this moment since the day the two of you met. You've dreamed about what it would feel like, how her lips would taste. You've thought about it while lying awake in bed at night, while doing homework. It's a constant, nagging thought. Her face draws closer to yours, and your eyelids flutter closed. You feel her breath fan across your lips. Your heart beats rapidly. Then, finally, her lips meet yours, and everything else fades away. It's like nothing you've ever experienced before. It's tender and passionate, sweet and perfect. You wrap your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. As she holds you in her arms, your fears disappear, and a new feeling takes their place. A feeling of warmth, safety, happiness—more than that. When you part, the both of you are breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide, filled with wonder. You're sure your expression mirrors hers. Neither of you say a word. Instead, you just stand there, drinking in each other's presence. You're not sure how long you stay like that. 

Eventually, she lets out a soft chuckle, breaking the silence. "Was that okay?" she asks, biting her lip.

"Yes," you confirm. "More than okay."

"Good," she beams, pecking your lips. "Want to go back downstairs?" she offers.

"Actually, can we go to my place? Lusher will be gone," You suggest, hoping she catches the hint. You can't help but glance at her lips. You're eager to have her all to yourself. To be alone with her. To do whatever the two of you want. If the blush creeping up her cheeks is any indication, she knows exactly what you're insinuating. She nods, and the two of you descend the stairs, hands intertwined. She stops to grab her jacket, and once the two of you make it outside, the crisp, night air hits you. It's cool, and refreshing. As the two of you begin your walk to the apartment, she leans in, her shoulder brushing against yours. The contact sends a shiver down your spine. You can't believe how close the two of you are. How intimate it feels. It's a welcome change from the distance you've forced upon the two of you for the past few weeks. A small part of you is afraid. But a larger, stronger part of you is excited. Excited to explore this newfound intimacy, and whatever may lie ahead. And for the first time in a while, you feel genuine hope.

"Here," she offers, draping her jacket over your shoulders.

"Thank you," you murmur, wrapping it around yourself.

The two of you hop in Bada's car, the engine purring to life. 

"You cold?" she asks, turning the heater on.

"Yeah, a little," you admit, rubbing your hands together.

"Here," she offers, taking your hands in hers. You look down, watching as she runs her thumbs over your knuckles. "Better?"

"You're cheesy," you tease, rolling your eyes. Though secretly, her touch does make you feel warmer. Better. It makes your heart swell with affection, and the corners of your mouth turn up. It's like her presence is melting the ice surrounding your heart.

"I like cheesy," she counters, grinning.

"I'm lactose intolerant," you retort.

"Oh, no," she pouts, feigning concern. "Guess I'll have to come up with some other way to make you happy."

"I can think of a few things," you flirt, giving her a coy smile.

She just smiles, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After what feels like an eternity, the two of you pull up, and Bada turns the car off. She hops out, making her way to the passenger side door, opens it, and extends her hand. You take it, and allow her to lead the way. The two of you climb the steps to the apartment, tension growing thick. Once you reach the front door, she lets go of your hand. You immediately miss the contact, and your heart rate picks up. You unlock the door, and step inside. She follows behind you, closing the door and locking it for you.

"It's freezing," Bada says.

"Yeah, sorry," you say, closing the door. "The heating's broken. It should be fixed by tomorrow, though."

"It's fine," she assures, wrapping her arms around you from behind. 

You lean back, savoring her warmth. You've fantasized about this more than you'd like to admit.

"Bedroom?" she whispers, kissing your temple.

You nod, tugging her through the apartment and into your bedroom. Bada shuts the door, and you turn to her, staring into her eyes.

"Hi," you whisper, placing a hand on her chest.

"Hi," she whispers back, placing her hand over yours.

You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. She reciprocates, capturing your lips with hers. Her hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. Your hands move to her hair, tugging lightly.

She moans into your mouth, her grip tightening on your hips.

You pull back, gazing into her eyes.

"You're so pretty," she murmers, her thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

"So are you," you counter, smiling.

She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. The two of you stay like that for a moment, drinking each other in. Finally, you pull back, grabbing her hand. You shove her onto the bed, and then fall on top of her, your legs straddling her hips.

"Hey," she giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Hey," you reply, a smile on your face.

"You're so annoying," she says, leaning in. 

"And yet, you're here," you point out. 

She ignores this, deciding to press a kiss to your lips, her fingers moving up your back. You sigh into her mouth, your body relaxing against hers. She slides her tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you. Her hands move to your ass, squeezing. You roll your hips, grinding against her. She groans, her grip on your ass tightening. She sits up, her lips never leaving yours. She scoots back on the bed, her legs spread, and you sit between them, still straddling her.

"You're such a tease," she says, her voice husky.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask, smirking. "How's this for a tease?"

You slip your hand under her shirt, tracing circles on her stomach, her abs. You can tell she's not wearing a bra. 

"I don't know," she sighs, her head falling back. "Keep going, and we'll see."

You lean down, peppering kisses along her jawline. She tilts her head, giving you better access. You suck on her pulse point, her breath hitching.

You move lower, kissing and sucking her neck.

She groans, her hand tangling in her hair. You smirk at this, trailing kisses down her chest. You unbutton her shirt, exposing her breasts. You take a nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the stiff peak. She lets out a string of curses, her grip on your hair tightening. You give her other nipple the same attention, relishing the noises coming from her. You trail your hands down her sides, settling on her thighs.

You're about to give her a command when, suddenly, she stops you, pushing your head away. 

Before you can protest, she grips onto your waist and flips you over. You let out a squeak of surprise. 

She stares down at you, a smug grin on her face.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice breathy.

"What am I doing?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I'm getting revenge."

"Revenge?"

"Yeah," she replies, her hand snaking its way up your shirt. "For teasing me."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I think I'm going to start with..."

She trails off, her gaze focused on your pants.

"What are you—" you're cut off by her hand moving to the button of your pants, undoing it.

She slides the zipper down, revealing the lace of your underwear.

"Nice," she murmurs, a grin on her face.

You're about to reply, when she moves her hand beneath the fabric, cupping you.

"Oh," you breathe, your hips bucking into her touch.

She begins rubbing slow circles on your clit, causing you to writhe underneath her.

"You're so wet," she states, her fingers picking up speed.

"All for you," you manage to get out, your breath ragged.

"That's what I like to hear," she says, slipping a finger inside you.

"Oh, fuck," you moan, your back arching.

She adds another, long, finger, stretching you.

"You're so tight," she marvels, pumping her fingers in and out.

You moan, grinding against her hand. She curls her fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside you.

"F-fuck," you curse, your walls clenching around her digits.

"Such a dirty mouth," she scolds, adding a third finger. She moves her mouth to your neck, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

You pant, your toes curling as her pace increases. She hums in response, her fingers curling inside you, her thumb pressing against your clit.

"Fuck, Bada," you moan, gripping onto her wrist.

"You close, baby?" she asks, her breath hot against your neck.

"Y-yeah," you stammer, your hips meeting the movements of her fingers.

"Gonna cum," you mumble, your vision blurry.

"Mm-hmm," she nods, her gaze intense.

"Fuck," you cry out, and as your climax approaches, she removes her hand, leaving you frustrated and empty.

"Bada," you gasp, panting. "What the fuck?"

"I'm not finished with you," she states, a mischievous grin on her face.

"I wasn't either," you pout.

"We'll see about that," she teases, her hands moving to the hem of your shirt. She pulls it over your head, tossing it to the floor.

She gazes down at you, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Take those off," she orders, gesturing to your pants.

You oblige, sliding the rest of garment off and kicking it to the side.

"Good," she praises, a smirk on her face.

She stands, removing her shirt, pants, and boxers, her toned body exposed. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of her. She crawls on top of you, her body hovering over yours. She kneels in front of you, her fingers ghosting over your skin.

"So, you gonna finish what you started?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know," she says, a glint in her eye. "I might."

She kisses you, her lips soft and pliant. You part your lips, allowing her tongue to slip into your mouth.

"Bada," you groan, tangling a hand in her hair.

"What is it, baby?" she murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip.

"Need you," you whisper, your hips bucking into hers.

"What do you need?" she breathes, her hand ghosting down your torso.

"Your fingers, your mouth, everything," you reply, a whimper escaping your throat.

"Everything, huh?" she teases, her fingers dipping beneath the hem of your underwear.

"Fuck, please," you beg, arching your back.

"Since you asked so nicely," she replies, her voice dripping with desire.

She ducks her head, her lips trailing kisses down your chest, her hands pushing your underwear down. You kick the last bit of fabric off, leaving you bare before her.

"Beautiful," she murmurs, her fingers circling your clit.

"Ah, fuck," you moan, your hands gripping the sheets.

She sucks on your inner thigh, her tongue tracing patterns on your skin, her fingers never stopping their ministrations. She spreads your legs, her hands pushing your knees up, exposing your wet, aching center. She exhales, her gaze hungry. She places an open-mouthed kiss to your slit, her tongue lapping up your juices. You keen, your hands finding her hair.

"More," you plead, your hips canting.

"Whatever you want," she promises, her fingers digging into your flesh.

She dives in, her tongue flicking across your clit, her nose brushing against the sensitive nub. You cry out, your body writhing beneath her. She wraps her lips around your clit, sucking hard. Your toes curl, and a low, guttural moan escapes your throat. She hums in response, her eyes boring into yours. She presses a finger to your entrance, her tongue continuing its assault on your clit.

"Please," you rasp, your breathing ragged.

She enters you, her digit pumping in and out.

"F-fuck," you swear, your head rolling back.

She adds a second finger, her tongue swirling around your clit.

"Bada, I'm close," you warn, your walls tightening.

She hums, her fingers curling inside you, her mouth closing over your clit, sucking hard, and you chant, your hands tangled in her hair.

Your climax crashes into you, and you cry out, stars exploding behind your eyelids. She works you through it, her fingers coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you.

You pant, your body trembling. She smirks, pulling her fingers out of you.

"Tired already?" she teases, wrapping her arms around you.

She grins, capturing your lips with hers, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. You melt into the kiss, your arms encircling her. 

"Get some rest," she suggests, pulling away. 

You pout. "But what about you," your gaze trailing down her naked form.

"I'm fine, we'll continue this another time," she reasons, kissing your temple.

"Fine," you relent, cuddling up to her and nuzzling her neck.

She rests her chin on top of your head, her hand gently rubbing your back.

"I'm really glad we met," you murmur, the exhaustion finally catching up with you.

"Me too," she replies, kissing the top of your head.

"You're gonna stay the night, right?"

"Of course," she affirms, giving you a squeeze.

"Good," you mumble, drifting off.

You smile, listening to the sound of her heartbeat, your eyelids growing heavy.

She whispers something that you can't quite hear, but before you can ask her what it is, sleep overtakes you.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You wake up the next morning to find Bada fast asleep beside you. You roll over, facing her. She's on her back, one arm draped over her stomach, the other above her head. She's snoring lightly, her features relaxed. You try not to coo at how adorable she looks, and instead, get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom.

You take a quick shower, and then put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. When you walk back into the bedroom, Bada's sitting up, her phone in her hand.

"Morning," you greet, crawling onto the bed and sitting next to her.

"Morning," she replies, her gaze focused on her phone.

"What are you looking at?"

"The news. Look,' she answers, handing her phone to you.

You read the headline.

'Improved conditions for the girls' basketball team after protests'.

"Oh, wow," you say, surprised.

"Yeah," she smiles, taking her phone back.

"Our project is kind of fucked now," you realize.

"Nah, it'll probably be fine. We'll just talk to the professor about it,"  she assures, putting her phone on the nightstand.

"What time is it, anyway?"

"12:30."

"Really? I thought it was earlier," you state.

"Well, we didn't get much sleep," she teases, a grin on her face.

"I wonder why," you reply, rolling your eyes.

She smiles wider and gives you a peck on the cheek. You laugh, her lips tickling you, your heart overflowing with joy. You felt like you were dreaming. Speaking of which, you suddenly remembered what she had whispered to you last night.

"Hey," you say, gently pushing her off of you.

"What's up?"

"Last night, right before I fell asleep, you said something," you start, trying to remember exactly what it was.

"Oh," she laughs, a blush forming on her cheeks.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, just... nothing," she says, shaking her head.

"Bada," you urge, poking her side.

"Ugh, fine," she sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I, uh, I said I love you."

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "What?!" you gasp, 

Her face flushes with embarrassment. "I know, it's stupid, and you don't have to say it back or anything, but I-,"

"Bada, shut up," you interrupt, pressing a finger to her lips.

"Huh?"

"I love you, too," you reveal, smiling.

"R-really?" she splutters, gazing at you in astonishment. 

"Yes," you chuckle, kissing her forehead. 

"Wow," she whispers, staring into the distance.

You laugh. "What, did you think I wouldn't say it back?"

"Well, I didn't really know," she admits, scratching her head.

"Of course I do," you insist, cupping her face.

She stares at you, her eyes wide. You stare back, your thumbs caressing her cheeks. Your heart swells as you smile at her, and her lips tug up into a smile. There's something so endearing about the way her eyes sparkle, her skin glows.

Then, she pounces on you, showering you in kisses.

"Hey, stop!"

"No," she giggles, her lips trailing down your jawline.

"Bada, seriously," you laugh, trying to push her off.

"Nope," she declares, her hands roaming under your shirt.

"Oh, my God," you sigh, giving in to her affection.

You hold her close, your arms wrapped around her. As she's getting increasingly handsy, you hear the door slam open.

"Okay y/n, TIME TO WAKE UP! I cannot believe you left the party without-" Lusher stops in the doorway, gasping as she lays her eyes on the scene before her. 

"Fuck," you curse, scrambling out from under Bada and falling onto the floor.

"Oh god," Bada mutters, standing up.

"Lusher, please-"

"Bada?!" Lusher screams, her eyes wide. "Oh! My! God! How did this happen? Wait."

You groan. Here we go. "Lusher, please let us enjoy our-"

"God I'm glad you two finally got together. I was sooo tired of hearing you two mope about how into each other you were. It's about time, seriously."

"Lusher."

"Sorry, you know, I had weird premonition when I fell asleep that you guys hooked up, but I wasn't sure. Guess I'm a psychic," Lusher exclaims, giddily.

"Lusher."

"Okay, well, I'm glad it's true. And also, I'm very happy for you. Anyway, I'm going to go now," she announces, backing out of the room.

"Thanks, Lusher," Bada laughs.

"No problem. Also, by the way, I'm going to be a bridesmaid at the wedding."

"LUSHER."

"What? Okay, I'm going, I'm going. Bye!" she shouts, shutting the door.

"Oh, my God," Bada mutters, sitting back on the bed.

"Yeah," you agree, crawling back onto the bed and plopping next to her.

"She's a character."

"That's an understatement," you laugh.

"Anyway," Bada continues, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Wait, what are you-,"

She pins you down, a smirk on her face. "Back to what we were doing!"

To Lusher's dismay, you and Bada spend the rest of the day locked away in your room, the two of you only coming out to grab snacks. And you couldn't be happier with how everything turned out. You almost laugh, remembering how hard you tried to convince yourself that you didn't have feelings for her, how you didn't want to date her, how she was out to get you.

But now, here you are, your head resting on her chest, her arms wrapped around you, her body pressed against yours. It's a dream come true.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[sweetprfct]

Midnight Rain

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: The glitz and glamour of Hollywood isn't always what it seems. When Joe had started working with you in a movie, he had started wondering as to why you, the famous Hollywood starlet, has been acting out lately. Was there some dark secret behind all the angry spoiled façade? And why was he so fascinated about it?

Author's Note: Hello! I'm back with another Joe series! There will be dark triggering factors in this series, so I'm warning you all this right now. I won't put a disclaimer on this chapter because it hasn't been mentioned, but it will be in the future chapters. I have been working on this plot for a month and a half so hopefully, it will satisfy you all! This might end up being more than five parts, so we'll see. Comments are always welcome, of course! :)

Disclaimer: 18+

Wordcount: 2.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Okay, okay!” You laughed. “You win, Jimmy!”

Your eyes sparkled in happiness as Jimmy Fallon put down the headphones on his desk. The both of you were playing a game on national television. You were called to promote your current movie, and an interview with Jimmy Fallon was one of the promotions that you needed to do. He had challenged you to put on the headphones and play the music on a high volume, while he said random words in front of you. You had to figure out what he was saying, but your answers were always so far off. 

“Well, that interview went well.”

Joe jolted in surprise as soon as he heard his manager, Alex, enter his dressing room. He paused the video of you with Jimmy Fallon and looked over his shoulder to see Alex, shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh. 

“What’s that?” Alex tilted his head towards Joe’s tablet and saw that he was watching one of your interviews. 

“I don’t believe that the woman out there is the same person as this woman in this video.” Joe said.

Joe pressed play again and saw how right at the end of the show, your eyes were literally watering from laughing so hard. Your smile and eyes were sparkling in joy. It was almost like you were a whole different person. You were full of light, and you laughed at just about everything. He wasn’t going to lie, your laugh was infectious and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he was watching the whole interview. You were very interactive, and your answers to Jimmy were so detailed and fun. You even would joke a little to make Jimmy laugh during the interview. 

The video was three years old, and Joe couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he just sat for an hour and a half with you this morning for an interview for the movie that you two have done together, and you were almost lifeless. Almost so disinterested about everything around you. 

“Well, it’s not your problem.” Alex sat across from Joe. “Your priority is to focus on promoting this movie. She has her own publicist that could deal with whatever that is going on with her.”

Joe’s eyes shifted towards the paused Youtube video on his tablet again. See, that was the problem. He knew working with you on set wasn’t really that difficult. You came to set everyday—even if you were late most of the time—and did your job well. You were an amazing actress, and he knew how big your fanbase was. You didn’t exactly spend time with him too much on set nor with the rest of the cast, but he thought maybe because you weren’t that social. Now that he has seen some of your old interviews, he realized how extroverted and outgoing you were. But what happened? Joe couldn’t seem to let it go. 

“Ten minutes.” Alex patted him on the shoulder before walking out of the dressing room. 

Joe exhaled a sharp breath and leaned back on his chair. You were late this morning too, and you were already having an argument with your publicist as you walked down the hall and passed by Joe’s dressing room. Sitting on the chair, Joe and the interviewer gave each other an awkward smile as they waited for the both of you to arrive. Fixing your hair, you whispered something at your publicist before sitting next to Joe. 

“Hi.” Joe smiled at you.

“Let’s get this over with.” You mumbled under your breath, fixing your hair. 

The first few questions were easy. Joe was able to answer most of it, and you put on a fake smile and nodded your head. However, as time passed, Joe noticed the bored expression on your face as you played with your rings on your fingers. His eyes shifted on your lap as you spun the ring on your middle finger and then played with the fabric of your dress. He wasn’t sure if that was you being nervous or that was just a habit that you did. 

“So, what made the both of you interested in the role?” The interviewer asked.

“It was outside of my comfort zone, and I wanted to try something new. So, I hope I did the character justice.” Joe laughed softly.

Then, the interviewer’s eyes shifted to you and so did Joe’s. You bit your lower lip and was silent for a moment. Then, Joe saw the sparkle that twinkled in your eyes as you smiled.

“The paycheck was good.” You laughed at your own little joke. 

Joe saw the awkward expression on the interviewer’s face as she tried to just laugh off your answer. Joe couldn’t help but feel the blood rushed to his cheeks. He didn’t understand why you were acting like this. Were you just bored? Or were you doing this on purpose to piss off your team? 

The interviewer proceeded with more questions and at one point, you yawned in the middle of it and quickly apologized. Although, Joe knew you weren’t being genuine at all. You just said that because you knew you were on camera. 

“Are you guys excited to see the movie?” The interviewer asked. “You know… To see how it was all put together.”

“Yeah, actually—”

“No,” You shook your head, cutting Joe off. “I’ll probably just go home and order takeout after the red carpet.”

Joe started to feel uncomfortable, and he could see it all over the interviewer’s face that she was about done with you. He took a deep breath and gave the interviewer a smile as she asked more questions, but you kept trying to just make jokes and be sarcastic over it. Not once had Joe heard you answer the question with a serious answer.

“Do you think we will get a sequel?” She asked.

“Absolutely not.” You replied to the question immediately, your eyes widened looking horrified. 

“Can we take a break?” Joe asked, clearing his throat. 

“Um… yeah.” The interviewer smiled, getting up from her chair. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Joe immediately found himself in his dressing room, and he didn’t know why but he couldn’t help but google you. He wanted to know if there was some article that could tell him as to why you were acting like this. Then, that was when he found the Jimmy Fallon interview. It stunned him. Your hair was different too. Longer, dark brown and wavy. Now, you have it dyed in a platinum blonde and your roots are showing halfway on your head. It was only styled because you had your stylist for the day. 

“Ready?” Alex interrupted his thoughts as Joe set his tablet on the table and nodded his head. 

Following Alex out of the dressing room, Joe sat back on the chair and waited for you to arrive. Looking over his shoulder, he could hear your voice whispering at your publicist angrily. He watched as your publicist gave you instructions, her brows all furrowed and pointed her fingers towards the empty seat next to him. Joe couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation. He knew he shouldn’t because just like Alex said, it was none of their business. However, Joe couldn’t understand why he was so interested in you. Why have you gotten his attention so much? It wasn’t like you were nice to him or gave him attention. In fact, you didn’t even bother learning his name. 

Hearing you sigh, you sat next to him and gave him and the interviewer a fake smile as you fixed your dress and hair. Joe could see the interviewer was intimidated by you, while she gave you a cold smile. At this point, Joe wouldn’t be surprised if she lashed out at you.

“So, how is it like working on set?” She asked. 

“Fun.” You shrugged. “Though, no one really talks to me nor I talk to any of them.”

Joe’s eyes shifted towards you and just answered the woman that he had an enjoyable time with his co-stars. However, he couldn’t help but think about what you told the interviewer because that was actually true. You have never had a full on conversation with him on set nor with your other co-stars. You always locked yourself inside your trailer during down time or would only talk if it’s about the movie. In fact, you never even tried to learn his name. You had been calling Joe by his character’s name all this time. He just never corrected you because he thought you were on some kind of method acting but now that you both were doing promos, he just now realized that you were still calling him by his character’s name. 

After a few more questions, the dreadful interview was finally over, and Joe was sort of relieved that it was done. Even though he probably would have to do more interviews with you for the next few weeks, he was just glad that the day was over, and he was able to go back to his hotel. Walking down the hall with you, Joe tried to find every ounce of courage to talk to you before you entered into your dressing room. 

“Have a good night.” Joe gave you a small genuine smile. 

“You too, John.” You smiled before entering your dressing room. 

Stunned, Joe stood in the middle of the hall alone as he tried to process if you really just said that. 

Did you really just call him John? Again?

Taking a deep breath, Joe walked over to where his dressing room was and found Alex sitting on the sofa with his tablet in hand. He looked a bit overwhelmed but when was Alex ever not overwhelmed with anything? 

“What is it?” Joe asked. 

“Nothing, just going over your schedule.” Alex said. “We’ll be flying to Paris tomorrow for the premiere, so I suggest to get some rest.”

Joe nodded his head. “Okay, anything else before I go?”

Alex shook his head. “No, the car is waiting for you outside.”

Joe thanked Alex one more time before grabbing his things. He was ready to just go back to London at this point. He has been in unfamiliar cities the last few weeks that he truly missed his own bed. 

In your dressing room, you sat on your chair, your thumbs scrolling away through social media as your publicist nagged you over the things you have said in the interview today. You have been tuning her out for the last few minutes that you barely understood what she was saying. 

“Seriously?” Lily grabbed the phone from your hand.

“Hey!” You gazed up at her with a death glare. “That’s my stuff. You can’t touch my things. It’s an invasion of privacy.”

“Have you been listening?” Lily’s voice was full of frustration. “This movie is the only thing that’s keeping your career from not falling apart and you’re acting like this?” 

You let out a frustrated sigh, settling back on your chair and stared at yourself in the mirror. You were giving Lily a death glare through the reflection of the mirror as she paced back and forth behind you. 

“I didn’t lie.” You argued. “The script sucked! I thought I, at least, owe my fans the truth.”

“Please.” Lily rolled her eyes. “You know you weren’t thinking about your fans.”

You bit your lower lip and didn’t say anything for a moment. There was an uncomfortable silence surrounding the both of you before Lily let out a deep breath and slammed your phone on the table in front of you, making you flinch a little.

“You know what, good luck with your fake honesty because I quit.”

You froze in your chair as you heard the dressing door open. Through the mirror, you saw your manager, Skyler, walked in and just in time heard what Lily just said as she stormed out of the dressing room. You grabbed your phone from the table and continued scrolling through social media again, ignoring the fact that your heart was beating a thousand times per second. 

“That is the third publicist that walked out on you in under three months.” Skyler said, setting her tablet down on the coffee table behind you. 

“Whatever.” You said, nonchalant. “She didn’t know what she was doing anyway.” 

Skyler watched as you focused your attention on your phone before walking up to you and grabbed it from your hands. You took a deep breath and rubbed your forehead in frustration. 

“Stop scrolling through social media and reading stupid articles on the internet.” Skyler barked. “It’s messing with your mind.”

You sighed and slumped on your chair as Skyler stood in front of you, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “You have a flight to Paris tomorrow night, so can you please get your act together before the premiere?”

You got up from your chair and gave her a sarcastic salute before grabbing your purse from the sofa. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Go straight home and get some rest.” Skyler called out as you walked out of the door. 

You knew all too well that she was making that clear because if she didn’t, you would go straight to the bar and get drunk then, she would have to deal with your hangover the next morning. As you walked out of the building, a crowd of fans behind the barricade were screaming and waving at you. Flashes of the cameras blinded you as you quickly walked towards the van that was waiting for you. Looking out the window, you watched the people waving at you before slumping down on your seat, letting out a sharp breath. 

You have been doing this career for years and until now, you couldn’t seem to get used to all of this craziness. At one point, you would just tune it out. This whole industry was full of fake people, and you could never just trust anyone at all. Sometimes you didn’t even know if you could trust your own team, especially with the way they were always frustrated with you. 

You couldn’t blame them. 

They have every right to since you have been acting out for the past year or so. They would just never understand what goes through your head. They could never understand all of it. 

The moment you entered your house, it was dark, quiet and eerie. You hated every corner of this house. You flipped all the lights on and you were greeted by just empty nothingness in front of you. Just furnitures, the AC immediately turning on, and the skyline of Los Angeles from the distance through your glass windows. You walked up the stairs and went to freshen up, taking all the makeup off and draining all the hairspray that was in your hair. 

You hated all of this. You hated every part of this career of yours. 

If only you could go back and change everything, you would. You could feel the anger swirling inside of you as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Dark circles under your eyes, your eyes looked tired, and you looked so miserable. You could barely recognize the woman in the mirror. You didn’t know who she was anymore. She was just a skeleton with skin but there was nothing left inside her. She had a beating heart, but it wasn’t beating for anything at all. 

A tear rolled down your cheeks as you quickly wiped it with the back of your hand and turned away from the mirror. You changed into your pajamas and slid under your bed covers. Picking up your phone, you scrolled through Twitter again until you could hear Skyler’s voice echoing in your mind. 

“Stop scrolling through social media and reading stupid articles on the internet. It’s messing with your mind.” 

You sat on your bed, reading through tweets until you felt the anger brewed inside of you. Every single thing they were saying was all negative. You weren't enough. You couldn't do enough. You weren't anything good at all.

Nothing was ever enough.

Throwing your phone across the room, you screamed in anger and slid under your covers. Tears streamed down your face as you pulled your pillow against your chest and sobbed quietly.

Everything was just dark and miserable. 

*********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf

[mecachrome]

if you ever wanted to talk about your view of them and their dynamic and what makes them interesting to you? i'd be down to read that 👀

hlksdfhh jasmine i completely forgot about this after hungary... why does Everything Happen So Much 😭

anyway i would love to discuss the joys of 2381!!! admittedly 50% of this is just my 2-pick shipping (which i am wont to do 😔) but i really do find their dynamic/potential dynamic sooo interesting... the gist of it is basically that alex and oscar are very similar people but in a way where it doesn't actually allow them to mesh that well if that makes sense? which is what makes them fun to me LOL 🧡💙

like the way i see oscar's character at a glance is that he has a very strong sense of self but in most cases lacks a desire to rock the boat or overexert himself without good reason to (all actions must be done toward a Tangible Benefit !), so he's good at carefully balancing being an assertive speaker in a very casual, imperturbed manner + being just charming enough despite not being naturally drawn to or really even enjoying social spaces. i've talked at length about the empathy/sympathy split and how in a lot of ways his character is kind a mirror of lando's, or how basically oscar = extroverted thinking / introverted feeling and lando = extroverted feeling / introverted thinking. imo oscar isn't afraid of communication, he's just very careful and diplomatic in public situations and knows exactly how much of himself he's willing to "give" up to an audience, even when he comes off as a little reserved or awkward... i think people often boil oscar down to just being the Mature Intelligent Introverted Listener and lando to being the Reckless Clueless Extroverted Yapper even though they actually possess very similar baseline mentalities; where they primarily differ is just in conversational processing styles and how they choose to communicate meaning/intent.

but anyway. alex meanwhile is clearly SUCH a fascinating and deeply charismatic person who is also very introspective and has gone through a lot of hardship to attain the shrewdness he exhibits today, and although his story is quite different to oscar's and i do think he has more of an extroverted persona than him you can see that they interact with people from a very similar perspective + act in that same deliberate & controlled manner. instead of doing what looks/feels right, oscar and alex are the type of person who operates on the True Belief that their actions are correct, that they've thought through their decisions carefully and are taking the most informed risk possible in every situation; imo they have a very strong need for control in their lives but camouflage it with their desire to come off as ~subtle and effortless~ in presentation lol. like it's not that oscar doesn't swear in the car, he just thinks it's cringe to turn on the radio and broadcast it, etc. etc. so he and oscar are relatively "simple" people but also very deep thinkers who are quite sharp and witty and er... at the end of the day occasionally Judgmental Assholes. hlskdhflh that's why i call them insincere4insincere 🧡🧡🧡

Like when you look at the way oscar talks about guys like dr3, it's clear he's fascinated by their personalities and enjoys them as people but at the same time also feels a sort of... i call it "sociological fascination" LMFAO but in short there's a sense of detachment where he's content to simply observe these Conventional Social Patterns but the thought of actually living that way or thinking and acting that way gives him a headache. he'll be like "this is something dannyric would do/say... but Not Me 😅" and ofc it's meant as a compliment and not at all judgmental but at the same time it's very much implied that >These people live in another world and I live in mine. and he's comfortable and clear about delineating what that world is LOL

anyway i'd argue alex is quite similar, because if you watch his high performance interview there's this bit where he talks about how his self-awareness is simultaneously his biggest strength and weakness— which is such an alex thing to discuss... he's soooo frank and vulnerable in a way very few athletes are willing to be but it always comes from a place of very careful admittance, lessons that can only be imparted with enough distance established to the hardship that created them in the first place @__@ wah — and then is like wow it's So interesting how some guys are literally just no thots head empty ! like verbatim he says he's "intrigued" by their "blissful unawareness" which krills me because mentality is such a tricky thing to discuss in motorsport and sports in general, but alex being like ~i know i'm not like most athletes~ (#notliketheothergirls) but also I'm Capable Of Thinking And Using My Brain... for better or for worse... is so freaking funny to me.

tl;dr: alex and oscar basically just think other people are A Little Bit Stupid. which is very budding pundit/future color commentator à la jb22, just guys who are able to break things down and think things through and talk about them eloquently and therefore believe that Everyone Else Except Them Is A Bit Of An Idiot. and most importantly they enjoy being that person in a one-on-one dynamic; they thrive off being the one who gets to be the smart guy and know things and correct people pedantically and kickstart teasing banter and get the last word in. and because they're so often surrounded by specific athlete types who complement their know-it-allness, it works most of the time — like a lot of why landoscar are comaptible is that the gaps in lando's communication are filled by oscar and vice versa, i.e. they're both willing to do the work the other isn't — so when you look at 234's dynamic it's kind of like... "Why are we the same person and What are we supposed to do about it." and since they're both naturally "polite" characters it's not necessarily awkward or anything but it is kind of like. idk the vibe is just so interesting HLSDFHKH. it makes too much sense to the point that it kind of just circles back to not working 😭

like they're both good speakers but hate doing contentTM and don't like being taken too seriously (or actually don't like coming off as taking themselves too seriously), even though they're also very frank and straightforward and able to speak about themselves and their mentalities with overwhelming clarity. and ofc they're not exactly the same person but when you look at how alex talks about himself, how he's grown in confidence over time and had to rely on purely himself for sooo much of his career, it's super interesting contrasted with oscar being such an entj who clearly values his autonomy, likes to know how everything functions around him and understand the fundamentals of everything he does or tries, and likes believing he's achieving something through objective and empirical methodology — i.e. an "overthinker" but more so one caught up in the facts and technicalities rather than in emotions.

anyway so all their interax are just like >Ribbing each other about padel and random little moments here and there and they do make sense and have things in common but it's also kind of weird and unnerving on another level. they're both too assured in not getting "consumed by the narratives" around them and too unwilling to concede to the #cringe to ever really fundamentally Work... but that's what makes it fun ! insincere4insincere 😌

like when oscar says he's still "grounded" and you hear people talk about him being humble, what's most important to note is that his being humble or introverted doesn't come from shyness or a lack of self-belief, it comes from being secure enough in himself to not need his worth validated by other people... likekhklsdahflh so random but i find it kind of funny when people act like oscar worships mark because obviously he's very important to his life and career but 80% of the time when oscar talks about mark it's with a tone of like Yeah that's just my fuck ass old manager who couldn't even beat sebastian vettel (said lovingly but also a bit pityingly) also he doesn't even run the company by himself put some respect on the other people's names. anw that kind of groundedness, knowing where credit and criticism should be given and never going overboard in his assessment of a situation are all things alex had to learn to develop in himself after his red bull days.

ok what was i saying.

this literally means nothing idk if it even makes sense. but don't you think 23481 is so fascinating like the triangle of oscar somewhat following lando's career growing up > alex being lando's "hero" when he was younger and then alex and oscar are just there and alex doesn't really believe in that cringe shit (except for of course the spirit of valentino rossi at the foundation of all of this). LMFAO

also that's why it's so funny that during this get to know alex albon video he gave THREE answers that were the exact same as oscar's from his own interview in this series and every time it was brought up he was like Oh... Hm... and was kind of weirded out by it 😭 like he gave the same answer about choosing his own team + lewis singing, and then when he said he wanted to be an astronaut for a day and heard that it matched oscar he went: "Does it? Now I feel… I don’t want to be in a space shuttle with Oscar, so I’ll change mine. I’ll be a zookeeper, like in a sanctuary." like when ur no longer not like the other girls... 😔 freakmatched a little too hard

[pimosworld]

The sun and the moon

🌙Pairing-Moon boys x f!reader x Khonshu x Hathor

🌒Chapter Summary- You and the boys celebrate your new job. Marc’s past trauma threatens to derail what the other so desperately want with you. Khonshu makes his presence known in only ways he knows how.

🌔CW-18+,MDNI,NDFW, friends to lovers, Angst,Fluff,Insecurities,flashback sequence, POV switch, inaccurate depiction of DID,kissing,lots of flirting.

🌑WK-4.2k

A/N-I hope you like our first installment. I don’t know why I love writing Marc so angsty but I promise he will come around. Steven takes the lead in this because I’m a sucker for him and Jake is his ever charming self.

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Chapter 1

  ”I am the one who guides the great ones who are lost and exhausted on the roads of the reborn…

Who guides those who are lost in the underworld,

I am Hathor, Queen of the northern sky,

Who watches over the reborn,

I am a haven of tranquility for the just,

A ferry for the chosen.”

You never imagined you’d find yourself running through the halls of the British museum. You couldn’t contain your excitement of finally being told you got the job. You knew Steven would be leading a tour but he insisted you find him when you got the results. Good or bad. 

  The curator that was retiring was highly impressed with your knowledge. You thought the job offer would be to assist. You were ecstatic when she told you she wanted you to take over the catalogue of all the new exhibits in the museum. 

  It always came natural to you, the research and the fascination of every ancient civilization. Egypt in particular held your interest. There was a connection you couldn’t describe when you thought about it. Having met Steven and bonding over your shared obsession made you feel a little less awkward. 

  You always felt a little more like yourself around them. 

  Steven could invariably sense it before he even laid his eyes on you. It always started the same - a subtle yet undeniable sensation. A cascade of warmth starting from the top of his head emanating through his body. It was indescribable the reaction you elicited from each one of them, all varying in forms. 

  He’s meandering through the new Hatshepsut exhibit on a break in between tours when you find him. All bright and blazing smiles, hardly able to contain your excitement. He already knows what you’re going to tell him. You didn’t need his help but Jake would’ve called him all sorts of Spanish curses if he had turned down your request to help prepare for the interview at the museum all those weeks ago. 

  Some might call his love for ancient Egypt neurose but that’s what led you to him. It’s very likely you would be another stranger to him if his obsession hadn’t caused him to start his incessant babbling that fateful day in the coffee shop. 

  A beautiful creature like you, arguably the most beautiful he’s ever seen. Sitting in the shop he regularly frequented, seated in the corner to catch the only ray of light. Illuminating in your hands a special edition novel on some obscure topic. You quietly giggling to yourself as you read. 

  Jake stayed uncharacteristically quiet while Steven rambled to you about all the secret facts that were never printed. This was his forte and who was Jake to overtake this conversation that you seemed to enjoy. You took to him like you were long lost friends. 

  You took to all of them (well most of them) with such great ease…but one thing at a time. Let’s start with Steven. 

  Your sweet Steven, his posture slightly slouched. Hair a little disheveled and clothes not very firm fitting. But right now he’s standing tall, deft hands in his pockets and his hair with a bit of product. He always took care of his appearance as a tour guide. He stood a little straighter, spoke a little firmer…more assured. 

  He’s looking at you like that now as you approach him. A slight smirk on his face because he knows but he wouldn’t dare ruin your moment. 

  It’s hard to describe the feelings you have when you’re around them. It’s much easier to express how you feel when you’re not with them. Incomplete, fragmented,dimmed. 

  It’s like the opposite of a heartbreak when you see him. 

  “I have some great news.” You’re bouncing on your feet as you half whisper, trying not to draw attention from the other people in the exhibit. 

  She’s adorable 

  Jake is ever present when you are around and Marc as well but he mostly stays silent. 

  “I got the job.” You clap your hands over your mouth to suppress the squeal that you want to let out. 

  It feels wrong not to hug you at this moment. He’s not sure how you’d feel about it now that you’re coworkers but the way you step closer, he can’t resist as he pulls you into his arms. 

  You melt as he mumbles praises into your hair. He’s overwhelmed by the smell of citrus and vanilla as he realizes this is the closest your bodies have ever been. A different kind of warmth spreads over him now as he breaks away from you before ruining this moment with an awkward explanation about the male anatomy.

  “I’m so proud of you.” He says while he still holds your hands in his, a safe distance from you now. 

  “I couldn’t have done it without you Steven.” 

  He nervously adjusts the collar of his shirt as the redness creeps up his neck at the compliment. 

  “Nonsense love, you’re a natural.” 

  It was a regular term of endearment from him but it always made you all giddy inside. You never read too much into each of their special names for you. The countless times Jake called you hermosa or when Marc let the occasional sweetheart slip from his lips. 

  You nervously fidget with the hem of your blouse as the conversation lulls for a moment. “Well I should let you get back to work.” You reach up and give him a kiss on his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it as you hear a sharp intake of breath. 

  He watches you briefly as you walk away, he’s stuck in a trance trying to process what just happened. 

  “We should celebrate!” He didn’t really mean to shout it at you. The way all eyes turn to him including you has him wanting to crawl into the nearest sarcophagus. 

  You smile at him as you exit the exhibit and the light in the room dims a little as he patiently waits for the responses from his head mates about how bonkers he is. 

  His phone buzzes lightly in his pocket and his heart skips a beat when he sees your name appear on the screen. 

  You:My place or yours 

  Mine-S

  Steven can feel Jake and Marc at the forefront,along with a mixture of emotions.

  Worried,jealous,excited,anxious. They may be unique in their own way, but they share a brain and a body. Steven wasn’t usually the vanguard in these situations but something about you makes him feel confident. A way he’s never felt before, and he’s never been more sure than he’s been about you. 

  ****

  No one drinks your tea hermano.

  Steven huffs as he opens the door to the small coffee shop on the corner. “Whatever you say mate. I know I didn’t drink the last of it.” He doesn’t normally get this miffed but he’s been a lot more stressed at work lately with all the new responsibilities. 

  You wanted those responsibilities.

  Buzz off Jake.

  A poor old woman turns to him wide eyed. Steven quietly apologizes to her as he tucks his cold hands in his jumper. He just wanted to get some hot tea and be on about his day. Unsure of what he would even do…most likely research for the tours. It sure beats being yelled at by Donna who thinks she’s still Stevens boss. 

  The barista offers him a polite smile as he steps up to the counter. “I’d like the rooibos chai tea please.” He slides her some bills before she can tell him the total and quickly steps aside. 

  It’s warm and his hands are clammy. He rolls up the sleeves of his jumper as he idles by the window, somehow in everyone’s way and not in the way at all. He doesn’t remember it being a particularly sunny day when he left the flat but it seems the shop is ten shades brighter. 

  He glances around nervously as he hears some soft laughter just to his left. A book. A girl. In the corner. 

  Talking to strangers about Egypt at work was one thing. For starters he got paid to do it and he truly loved it. It’s an entirely different thing to do in public, some might say peculiar to strike up a conversation unprovoked. It’s no matter anyway as his feet carry him to your warm nook in the shop. 

  “That copy must have cost you a small fortune.” He says as he slides into the seat next to you. 

  You laugh as you dip your head. “Would you believe me if I told you I found it at a thrift store.” You turn it over in your hand as you brush your fingers down the spine. “Obviously I had to snatch it up before they realized what they had.” 

  He knows he’s the one who approached you but now he can’t actually believe you’re talking to him. Without even missing a beat. You haven’t returned your attention back to the book as you stare at him like you're studying his movements. Your eyes sparkle as you lift your coffee to your lips and blow before taking a sip. 

  “So what chapter had you particularly giggly over here.” He teases as you hold the book against your chest. 

  You lean in and he forces himself not to look at your slightly open blouse.“I’m afraid the god of Min is not one to be discussed out loud.” Your breath ghosts over him as you whisper in his ear. He can feel the heat flush over his body from your close proximity. 

  You slide the book towards him and tap your finger on the page. He tries to focus on reading it but he notices you haven’t pulled away. 

  Min was often depicted as a mummiform human man with an ithyphallic (uncovered erect) penis. Wearing a crown adorned with two feathers. In his left hand he holds his penis ( although this is usually only apparent in statues because of the perspective applied to two dimensional images in Egyptian art) in his right hand he holds a flail up above his shoulder representing power and fertility. 

  You lightly tap him on his shoulder and he looks up to see you gesturing to the young barista excitedly waving him over. She’s a bit squirrelly when he approaches to retrieve his coffee and he thinks perhaps she’s consuming too much of the shop's supply. 

  What are you doing hermano?

  I haven’t the slightest idea mate.

  Well keep it up, it seems to be working.

  He doesn’t want to intrude but he sees you smiling brightly at him as he returns to the table. You’re still on the same page not having resumed your reading. 

  Steven sits and sips his tea, he hums in approval and he’s grateful it sat briefly because at the moment he’s plenty warm. 

  “Is that the chai?” You ask inquisitively as you flip back a few pages with a puzzled look on your face. 

  “Yes, it’s one of my favorites. In fact I don’t make it at home. It’s just—.”

  “It never tastes the same.”  You steal the words right from his mouth as he glances down to your coffee in question. “Sometimes I enjoy the occasional cup of coffee. It reminds me of home” You say with a sheepish expression. 

  “Where’s home?” He clears his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” 

  “I don’t mind at all. Washington.” His eyes go wide and you smirk into your coffee. “I know I’m a long way from home.” You say it with a far away look in your eyes and he silently curses himself for being too forward. 

  You flip frantically back and forth through the pages as you scrunch your nose in frustration. 

  She’s cute 

  Ya he’s aware and he’s thoroughly wrecked at any future attempts to match this turn of events for a day off from the museum. 

  “Looking for anything in particular?” He leans in a little closer as he scrubs his sweaty palms on his pants. 

  “Yes…it’s just.” You cease your movements and lean back against the soft cushion. “I know these books leave out so much information. They claim to be special editions but I know there’s more to it than this.” You point at the page like it’s personally offended you. 

  “Perhaps I could be of some assistance?” You raise your eyebrow at him and it’s quiet for a moment. 

  “Aren’t you going to ask?” 

  “Ask what love?” It slips out but you don’t falter or grimace at his words. 

  “Ask me why I’m so far from home.” You look at each other then, it’s just a millisecond of a flash in your eyes. The iris is bright yellow and then gone. His heart quivers a bit and he thinks he may be having a mild heart attack. 

  Calmáte

  He takes a shuddering breath and shucks off his coat. “S’ not really my business I guess.” 

  You’re so focused on him. Like you’re learning every tick and line etched into his features. The way you stare at him like he’s a statue to be studied. It’s maddening and a little unnerving but he doesn’t want you to look away. 

  “Can you tell me why all of the statues of Min are depicted vastly different from all these photographs?” You slide the book toward him but he closes it as a smug smile adorns his face.

  “Well the European scholars of the Victorian age were a bit more…conservative.” He adjusted his pants unconsciously before continuing. “They had most of the phallic members on the statues removed when they were discovered. It nearly wiped out all known history of Min…but you can’t erase the mind.” You chuckle as he taps his finger against his temple playfully. 

  You sigh sympathetically and a comfortable silence falls over the both of you. “Poor Min.” 

  Steven lets out a raucous laughter and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. The old woman from before seated at a table nearby shushes you both and Stevens face turns deep red. 

  You duck your head close to his. “It’s not like we’re in a library.” 

  Ya he’s a goner 

  “Another fun fact, that’s likely not in your book.” He drops his voice a little to not disturb anyone else. His excitement is threatening to boil over at your willingness to listen. “It’s rumored that Min was in charge of overseeing the women while the king and his men were at war. When the men returned from battle all of the women were pregnant.” You cover your mouth in shock. “It gets worse.” 

  Your leg brushes his as you adjust to face him better and he nearly chokes at the brief contact. “The king had his arm and leg chopped off in retaliation.” 

  “Why not his.” You gesture downward but his eyes stay fixed to your face. 

  “Well…funny you ask. The king told the men to remove his er…you know. The men thought it was too magnificent so they made him a god. That’s the rumor at least.” 

  MIN WAS A FOOL

  Steven stiffens at the bird's sudden presence as he’s perched in the corner. Unsure as to why he’s here. Marc made it clear to leave Steven alone when it comes to moon knight duties 

  You’re staring at him with a mesmerized look in your eyes. “How do you know so much?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve always had a knack for researching and always found Egyptian mythology fascinating. I used to run the gift shop at the British Museum, but now I’m a tour guide.” 

  You shriek in surprise and the old woman abruptly stands with her newspaper, muttering under her breath as she exits the coffee shop. “I’m interviewing for a job there next month. How serendipitous.” You say the last part half whispered. 

  “Wow, that is quite the coincidence. What’s the job? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

  “The curator position has an opening. It’s always been my dream to work there.” Steven glances up nervously at Khonshu who still hasn’t left. 

  DON'T MESS THIS UP WORM

  “I could ugh…help you prepare. If you’d like? I’m sure you know your stuff but if I—.” 

  “I would love that so much. Thank you.” You say enthusiastically as you clap your hands together. 

  You reach into your purse to pull out your phone. “I’m here most mornings around this time.” You hand it to him sounding a little apprehensive. “But I should have your number just in case.” 

  “Of course love.” He punches in the digits trying to calm his shaking hands. He hands it back to you as you look it over. 

  “Nice to meet you Steven.” You slide it back into your purse along with your book. “I should be going.” You wave at him as you slide out and head towards the door with one last glance over your shoulder at him. 

  He exhales as he drops his head back, the cafes a little colder and his heart rate slows to a normal pattern. 

  ****

  Steven frantically stacks his books against the wall after he’s checked on the vegan pot pie in the oven. He’d managed with Marc’s help to attempt a new recipe without burning down the flat. 

  She’s been here before Steven just relax 

  “I just want it to look nice. She’s not just coming over to study.” Despite Marc’s insistence he calms down, he can sense his nervousness. 

  Jake feels it too. 

  You’ve been over countless times, laid out on the floor amongst the books that adorned their home. You and Steven rambling for hours about the ancient texts or the hidden tombs. Swapping ridiculous facts that the other hadn’t heard. Jake often had to remind you both to eat or drink something. 

  Marc would front occasionally…mostly to remind Steven that the body had other duties to attend to. There was always an awkward avoidance on the days after you’d see Marc. 

  But tonight feels different. You were coming over to spend time with them, not just pick Stevens brain for loads of useful knowledge. The way you touched him today and the look in your eyes told an entirely different story than your budding friendship. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself before you arrive so he tries to keep his hands busy. 

  Jake has to give it to him, the flat has never been this clean in its entirety. He notices some newer candles have been lit but decides to keep it to himself. 

  Just remember she likes us and take deep breaths

  “Thanks mate, I sure hope I know what I’m doing.” 

  ****

  “Steven, you've outdone yourself.” You slide the empty plate forward and take a sip of your wine. 

  It never gets old, hearing your praises. You were always so grateful and appreciative of anything they would do for you. 

  “Marc helped as well.” His eyes meet Marc’s in the reflection of the mirror. 

  You brush your hand over his tracing the veins along his arm. “Well tell him I said thank you.”

  Marc wasn’t avoiding you per say. He just thought it was important for Steven and Jake to experience what he once had. Something he wanted so desperately but was too afraid to mess it up again. 

  The conversation moves comfortably to the couch, where your feet are curled up beneath you as you animatedly tell Steven about the wonderful interview. Some old sci fi movie on in the background that he can’t bother to pay attention to when he could simply watch you. 

  You finally take a breath and realize how close you are. Knees touching as you adjust against the worn leather. He looks at you as if he wants you to continue. You thought he’d be sick of talking about this stuff by now but he looks as though he’d let you go on for hours. You can’t ignore the feeling from earlier and you hope deep down that what you’re about to do doesn’t ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had. 

  If it does, you suppose it’ll make your work relationship less complicated. You aren’t even sure what the policy is on dating. You’re definitely getting ahead of yourself. 

  “Love is everything alright?” He asks as he places his warm hand gently on your thigh. 

  “Sorry, I was lost in thought.” You chuckle softly as you look at the fish tank. Gus swimming in the front staring at you. 

  “Did you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” His hand traces soothing circles on your thigh and he feels you shudder. He moves to withdraw but you grab his hand,lacing your fingers with his. 

  He slowly raises your arm, kissing the back of your hand as his lips linger there for a moment. ‘Go on’

  “I just…wanted to thank you properly. But we were in the museum.” Your voice is suddenly so timid. 

  “We’re not in the museum now.” His chest rises and falls with rapid breaths as he waits. 

  It feels like all eyes are on you, and not just Stevens. He’s waiting for you to cross that bridge, giving you the opportunity to say that this can stay exactly what it is and he would be content. 

  You inch closer to him as you rise up on your knees, the couch creaks as you face him, placing your free hand on his shoulder. He closes his eyes as you roam over his chest, mapping it with your fingers. His dark lashes flutter against his cheeks as you lean in and press your lips to his. 

  Warmth blooms across his chest at the first feel of your touch. It’s so gentle and experimental as you both share breaths. He releases your hand to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. 

  “You’re welcome.” He murmurs against your lips as you chuckle in between opened mouth kisses. 

  You can still taste the wine on his tongue as he methodically takes the lead. Much more assured of himself than you’ve ever seen. 

  You yelp in surprise as he swings your leg over his so you’re straddling his lap. You lean back with your hands braced on his chest as it rises and falls beneath you. His hands flex at his side as his eyes roll. 

  “Mírate, eres tan hermosa.” His pupils are black as he bites his bottom lip. 

  “Hi.” You say breathlessly as his hands find their way to your hips. He pulls you in as your noses touch, waiting for permission as you nod. 

  He’s consuming and precise in his movements. His lips crash into yours as you instinctively grind your hips down. He groans into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s so different from Steven and yet so exhilarating knowing it’s the same body. 

  I wasn’t quite finished yet

  Jake chuckles as he trails kisses along your jaw. “I wasn’t sure if he was going to share.”  He tilts your head to the side as he bites and nips at your chin. “To be continued.” 

  His hands flex again and he relaxes beneath you. A blush creeps up Stevens neck at the position you’re in. You adjust yourself and brush against his hardened bulge in his pants. A soft whimper leaves his mouth as you experimentally roll your hips again. He’s slack jawed as he watches you with hooded eyes. You’re beautiful just like this. 

  Your nerves start to get the better of you and he notices your trembling. He gently unwraps your arms from his neck as he places a kiss on each palm. 

  “We don’t have to go any further love.” He breathes in the scent of your perfume, heavy on your wrist. “I like this. What we’re doing now.” 

  You place your hand on his rapidly beating heart, quite the juxtaposition to his outwardly calm demeanor. You’re so content to stay like this…so you do until your eyes fall heavy. Lips chapped from kissing as the candles go out on their own. Curled up under the broadness of their body as they wrap you up into them. You push the thoughts away before sleep claims you of not having seen Marc, you want to thank him…in time. 

  ****

  The golden sun bathes you in a warm embrace as you rustle amongst the robust reeds. Your fingers trace along the silky fabric of your dress as the breeze brings scents of jasmine to awaken you softly. 

  The crunching of grass with each deliberate step, a gentle symphony beneath the weight of someone weaving through the emerald blades. As they move it casts a shadow along your tranquil resting spot. 

  You hear a faint laugh as you open your eyes. A tall majestic man stands before you, adorned in blue and gold. His dark locks sit beneath a nemes crown. He crouches down beside you as he lays his crescent staff amongst the grass and pulls you close. He rests his head atop yours as he hums quietly to himself.

  “I knew I’d find you here.” 

  ****

  You stretch your sore limbs, having fallen asleep in such an awkward position. Fragments of a dream linger in your mind briefly. Your eyes adjust to the light in the flat and you’re acutely aware of the lack of warmth against your back. 

  There’s a soft quilt draped over your form and you pull it close as you sit up on the brown leather couch. It’s silent in the flat, the only sound over the quiet hum of Gus’s tank is the sound of your beating heart as you brush the tears away with the blanket you’re holding tightly to your chest. 

Prev/Next

🌙Comments and reblogs are much appreciated 🌒

Taglist- @romanarose @chichimisaki @missdictatorme @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @queerponcho @melodygatesauthor @faretheeoscar @22carolina08 @villainfan @clairewinchester14 @brighterthanlonelywords @astrosphereblog @casa-boiardi

[friedchickenluver]

Oml, okay I’m sorry this kinda late but I’ve been working on it since i first got it trust me. I originally had another draft for it but then that and the request got deleted somehow .😭

But the request basically asked for an innocent, naive, virgin reader x miguel so this goes out to my anon whos been waiting so patiently :3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚: 𝙖 𝙨𝙡𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊’𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙭 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠!𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙣𝙖𝙞𝙫𝙚!𝙫𝙞𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠, 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.7k+

───※ ·❆· ※───

Miguel obviously notices you from the first day you walked in for your interview, you were so apparent with the way your coyness carried the majority of your outer persona; and it was oddly appealing to him. He couldn’t tell you why of course, he couldn’t tell his damn self either, but something so magnetic about how you were just all bright-eyed and everything destructive seemed to fly over your prudish head. All you focused on were projects, work, test runs, everything a good employee worries about. All you would talk about is how you could possibly help with group projects, all that needed to be done or worked on.

Nothing more, just work. He tells himself everyday, mentally that it shouldn’t have to be a problem that you’re exclusively interested in only your studies, In fact, it’s what his life is in dear need of in the midst of all this chaos that comes with the great responsibility of being a CEO.

Yet, he couldn’t help but to be so woefully curious about you, it’s in his blood to want to learn more, expand his knowledge even to places some may consider a bit extreme. Like an obsession, but he’d never admit that to not even himself. Nothing wrong with harmlessly getting to know you. Right?

In everything that you do, he can’t resist to admire.

Your work ethic was insatiable, it looked like you could do this whole thing all day and night. Problem solving, critical, yet abstract thinking. He could easily do those things without much struggle, as he’s been doing it for nearly his whole life. However when you do it, he suddenly feels outdone, and he hasn’t felt that way since his close friend Allen had gotten 2 points higher on his GPA calculation back in high school. Enough said, this man was left fascinated with your character, so he would try everything in his willpower to work with you, getting information out of you as subtly as possible.

And you, dear god have mercy on his heart, were so charming, so bubbly, as ready for life and all that it throws randomly in your direction. That could never be Miguel, he’s all too drowned within the harsh depths of cynicism, that all views on the greater side seemed impossible for him to even grasp. You, however, made him want to live just a little longer. Your energy gave him a better taste of life, and sure you weren’t perfect literally, but obsession overcame his all making you look flawless in his eyes. Oh, he didn’t care, he didn’t care at all,

He craved more from you, a whole lot more of that sugary innocence. To find out what was underneath that said exterior.

Little quips about how good you looked when you came in everyday, or how great you were at your work, only flew over your head. Nothing. Absolutely nothing came of it. Frustrating, yes, but the chase was so fun, he’d get lost in it. Was it wrong for the man to want to break that pure, untainted demeanor, have her all for himself? Make sure that if anyone was going to break that sweet top layer, that it was going to be him. Because, oh god, were you gorgeous. Men from all over the workplace tried their wits on you and it never worked no matter how outright dirty it was. You could only grow heat in your cheeks, and an awkward giggle would breathe itself out from past your lips, “Sorry, I, uh…need to get back to my test run for my group project. Have a good day sir!”

Miguel was going to finesse his way into your panties one way or another, but respectfully of course. He’s a gentleman at heart, and if other guys weren’t going to capture your interests, he definitely was.

You find yourself laughing aloud at remarks he would make in those moments when you two were alone and in the comfort of a shared lab room. Those relaxed eyes followed your every mannerism, studying your identity with great attention. And on the rare moments, you’d squeeze a genuine grin from the taller man, flashy the sexiest smile you’ve ever laid eyes on. Damn him, the effect he held over you was embarrassingly obvious, but you couldn’t help but to be so allured by his own character.

Like the other day, you could’ve sworn your sweet pussy throbbed at the way his voice dropped whilst having a one-on-one conversation in a more compact testing room.

Sex was a topic you without a doubt knew was there, that’s not what you were here for though. Work and a paycheck was all that was to come out of this job. At least before meeting Miguel…Goodness. Yes, you hadn’t had a sexual encounter prior to this, because losing something so closely intimate to you was a bit of a struggle to want to give up. You needed the right person, but you also hated rejection with a passion. And guess where that has you. Still a virgin unfortunately.

Miguel tries to get under your skin for days, even weeks. He uses all his best flirtations and remarks that seemed to get all the other women he was with riled up somehow. But, you were like catching a chicken. It took alot for him to somehow convince you into his bed. That was until he outright told you what he wanted one night while you were over at his place.

“Let me sleep with you…in the name of science.”

ఌఌఌఌఌ

A rather large hand possessing a quite wide palm, rough on its innermost side, grabbed a firm hold onto your neck. Yet, a contrasting feeling of soft lips crashed onto yours in a fitful passion of a kiss that had begun between the two. Miguel’s knee massaged methodically around her soaked heat, and you bucked into the delicious friction so eagerly. Another hand accompanied around the other side of your neck, having both of his hands choking you up by resting his thumbs comfortably onto the front of your throat.

You couldn’t help but to crumble, and melt, and even submit, to his whims as he promptly takes the lead in your first time. His tongue that shoved itself against yours, then going off to explore each and every inch of your heated mouth, slicking his own wet saliva onto yours. Your body practically burned on the inside of your gut, rutting and grinding roughly down on his thigh, adjusting forward so that his pretty girl could please herself all ways possible.

Want, isn’t a good enough word to describe the overwhelming feeling of her boss’s body flush against her own fleshy body. He pressed on her throat to elicit a choked groan from you, pushing your head completely back up on the wall. Taking easy advantage of your mouth being left agape, he conjured up a wad of spit just to shoot it down into your mouth. Your eyes rolled once he caught your lips again, making quick work to your clothes, nearly tearing them apart. Your top was easily discarded off of your body, falling into a but a clump of cloth on the floor.

The two of you pulled back, lips still in some form of contact, a slim strand of saliva connecting your faces. It’s so damn hot, being this close to someone felt so surreal for you, your pussy couldn’t help but feel the same way. You were so fucking wet, you’d think you probably peed on yourself, but no. It’s just him.

“Miguel, I-“

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, leaving any kind of marks he could leave. Suckling, teasing, and leaving fleeting kisses fluttering across your porcelain skin. You went for his belt, he went for your bra. Oddly enough it was like second nature for him to know how to undo a bra, you on the other hand were struggling a bit to seem experienced trying to unbuckle his belt with just one hand.

Miguel only picked you up, your legs wrapping around him tightly, the sudden action threw you completely off guard whilst trying to take off his belt. Noticing his bulge was poking at your cunt you noticed something.

Oh. Goodness, he was huge. And he was so achingly hard too.

Heat formulated in your face, thinking about how it looked, how it would be inside of you.

You ended up falling into some soft duvets on the surface of his bed, he rested his forearms beside either side of your head before coming down to steal another kiss from you. Your hand began to leisurely slide along your body, on and on until you reached for your folds. A finger found itself on your clit, starting to slowly massage it in minor circular motions. You tried rubbing up and down, flicking your clit delicately to earn more slickness between your legs. The man above you was kind enough to slide your bottoms and panties down for you, and god were they damp. He tossed them back onto the floor, as you would open your legs wider to stroke the bundle of candy sweet nerves slightly faster than before.

Some mewls fell loosely from your mouth as you toyed with yourself, enjoying every, single, sensation. Miguel continued to press his lips, mapping his way around your body, taking note of all of your body language. Suddenly, his tongue peaked out from out of his mouth, licking down your body towards your sex. You only continued to play with yourself teasing your incoming orgasm, and he brought his mouth at the bottom of your pussy, starting from the beginning of your folds, licking upwards making it to your orifice. Before you know it he’s burying his skilled tongue inside of you, deeply.

The way you would arch into his tongue, leaning onto its soft, pink flesh, you felt like you were losing touch with your mind.

“Faster. Come for me, come for this tongue.” He groaned softly against your lips, continuing on to plunging his tongue right back into you. You cried out, bringing your legs to lock his face hot against your pussy jerking around a bit feeling an impending orgasm to spurt itself from inside of you. He split open your clit, rolling and tasting out your inner flesh. Pulling it gently between his lips by suctioning it back into his mouth, not letting up the work that he put his tongue through.

Miguel swallowed, sucking her pussy up to and from his mouth, combining his actions to earn proper moans from the woman below him.

He practically couldn’t get enough of you. You tasted as good as you sounded when you talked numbers and calculations, and he was one suction away from just locking his jaw on your clit and abusing it with his tongue.

But, he did, however, have to control himself at least somewhat. Even if you did want exactly just that.

Bringing his forearms to interlock your legs in place, and taking his thumbs to spread you open to have your pussy all on display to his dark gaze. Oh, you felt like you were going to tap out already, too early in the game that you two were playing. But deep down, you craved for oh, so much more and you didn’t want things to end just yet.

Him groaning and cursing against you, sent shivers caressing up and down your spine. Those grunts about how good you tasted reverberated throughout not only your body and core, but your mind. It got so real at this point now and you never wanted to stop. All those fantasies about this man shoving his fat dick, cervical deep in you until his balls would spank harshly against your ass due to his unforgiving treatment. You two could finally act on it, after weeks of teasing and prodding at one another.

Your throat was already running dry, as you finally came undone, creaming rather intensely from him being so good at eating you out. You would come all over his tongue, also happening to get a bit on the tip of his nose, but he didn’t care. Long as he got to shove his face in between those drooling lips, he was a-ok. Taking the cum in his mouth, he met back up with you at eye-level, grabbing your throat once again before prompting you to open up your mouth again. You obliged, letting him feed you back your taste from when you came on his tongue so you could know how amazing you tasted to him, the liquid sliding so steadily out from the back of his mouth into yours.

Immediately after the long string of saliva soon dissipated, his lips were back on yours as passionate as ever.

Miguel wanted you badly at this point, any more foreplay could knock his mental unstable. With the way your body begged for attention, reducing you down to a needy little slut who just wanted to feel it again.

“Please. Do it to me Miguel.”

Miguel pressed your legs backwards onto the mattress not caring if you’re that flexible enough, shifting all of most of his body weight to hold your legs back and in place.

“I can’t give you what you want unless you actually tell me, mami.”

You watched intently, Miguel now ridding himself free of his own clothes. As soon as he pulled off his shirt, it revealed the beautiful array of pure toned muscle, displaying his flawless, olive skin.

All for me, you thought, for tonight at least.

He made quick work of his pants and boxer briefs, and there it was. He was without a doubt big, like, pornstar big. Its tip was a brownish-red, and along its girthy base, two visible pulsing veins ran their way down to his pelvis.

You nearly passed just looking at the damn size, head falling back onto the mattress in speechlessness.

“Miguellll, I want your dick baby, show mami how bad it gets. Please.”

Miguel laid down back on top of her heated form, pushing her legs all the way back until her thighs were touching the mattress, and threw her shins over his shoulders. He aligned himself perfectly over her entrance, the tip of his dick pressing directly over your pussy. Now, since you were indeed a virgin it took a good minute of struggle to actually slide it in. He had to readjust a couple of times, and slick his length up somehow in order for him to fit. It wasn’t long however before he at last pushed inside, but very slowly of course, taking in mind that you were tight as shit and never been penetrated any time prior.

“Mhmmm, there it is baby..breathe for me.”

You began to cry, genuine tears. Not out of sadness or anger obviously, but out of never being stretched so much in your life. She could only choke and trip over any sense of wording attempting to come out of her mouth when he finally pulled back out, leaving only his tip inside. He pushed back in again steadily to gain a sluggish, yet deep rhythm.

“Yeah I totally should’ve gone in with a condom. Made this a whole lot easier, fuck.”

“A-ahhh- fucking, MIGUELLLL.”

“I know, I know princess, you gotta adjust first. I promise, you’re doing excellent so far.”

Almost instantly you came all over his base once more mid stroke, making wet squelching noises sound out around the dark room. He laughed against your chest as he watched you come undone, and he barely even moved around in you. A solid white ring of your cum materialized around the bottom of his length.

“Díos mio muñeca, I barely got started.”

Now you are embarrassed at how fast you came for him. He hit this certain spot inside you that made your stomach burn and created this euphoric sensation ricocheting all over and giving you goosebumps. You look away flustered as ever, right before a hand firmly corrects your vision back to his own. That gorgeous face of his is now serious and demanding.

“Eyes on me querida.”

He would bring his hand to hold under the women’s knees where they were originally, and resumed his drawn out movements until you adjusted accordingly.

“Ohhhh~ yes!”

You felt your stomach spasm, your body jerking in response to the friction of Miguel’s fucking huge dick dragging and pushing against your virgin walls. It hurt in a way, but it felt amazing due to his movements angling perfectly on your g-spot.

He didn’t go faster, but rather harder. Lifting his lower half up and back down in you repeatedly. He hummed in mock response to all the little nothings that spilled from your pretty lips. With every plunge inside he would hum, letting you know how good you are for allowing him to work his magic. You squirted so much with each and every thrust, that you’ve soaked a good part of his sheets, but also his lower half. Your juices dripping and falling down his dick to his thighs, you couldn’t help but to sob at how he had you underneath him. Your quads, your abdominals, and hips all burned and were already pretty fucked out, him stretching you all kind of ways could put you to knock you out at any moment.

“Miguel! Make me take that fucking dick, please!”

Oh he loved that. Too much. But she begged appropriately, and he was willing to please her with everything he could possibly give.

Miguel lifted her up off of the bed abruptly, only to interlock his arms underneath her knees and told her to hold onto his neck tightly. Using his strength, he pulled all the way out and slammed back into her sore pussy.

“Said you wanted me to make you take this shit huh? Well here you go mami.”

His pace was extreme, using only his arms to aid him in pushing in and pulling out. And every single time, he hits that perfect spot that’ll finish you in not too long from now. The loud slapping of bodies slamming into each, slight sticky noises you could hear from the layer of sweat that would build up and try to keep you two together. Those wanton sounds of deep coital sex were music to Miguel’s sensitive ears. He stood tall in that pussy trying to fuck out another beautiful orgasm from you, make you scream his name for real this time so that anyone living close by could know who she belongs to.

Stray strands of hair started to stick to his forehead, focusing on fucking her so intensely gaining a bit more speed in his thrusts. Realistically, all you can do in that situation is take it ‘till it reaches deep inside your guts. Digging your nails into his back so fiercely that you broke real skin, causing his blood to trickle at the fresh wounds. He groaned out loud, letting a good string of spit hang from his reddened lips, “Fuck! Cum for me mi vida!”

“Mhmmmm, yes, ‘m gonna-“

Throwing your head back so far you caused yourself whiplash, but you came so hard you cried even more. Tightening your gummy walls around his pulsating, hot, dick he moaned into the sex-filled atmosphere of his master bedroom. He had to carry you back to bed, placing your upper half on the dark blankets face down, and wrapping his strong arms around you tightly. His thrusts never faltered, even with you bent in half off of his bed, crying and screaming. Your voice had long since reduced itself down to a shrill, dry wail, eyes seemed like they were permanently lolled to the back of your head.

Your overstimulated clit gained a friction against the edge of the bed, you hated it now since it hurts instead of any pleasure coming out of it. Miguel returned a hand around the length of your neck, changing positions slightly by now standing all the way up, hitting it from the back. His pelvis continuously rammed back into your ass causing it to become sensitive and sting to the touch, now at this point he was close himself compressing his hand around her throat even more than earlier. She pulled her plush, bottom lips between her two rows of teeth and bit down hard enough to make it bleed. Watching his dazed, yet victorious expression as she continued to get her pussy jackhammered against the firm mattress.

You hiccuped violently, allowing another stream of tears to leak out your tear ducts in pure sexual gratification. His name spilled loosely and incoherently from your now gravelly voice, you brought your hand up to the mattress and repeatedly tried to get that you’re overwhelmed by tapping it vigorously.

“No can do, baby, I’m too close to let you tap out now.”

Fuck.

Miguel let go of her neck before replacing it with his face, kissing and licking over all of his marks from his doing.

“Cariño, you on the pill?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Taking that as a no.”

Miguel’s hips started to waver, losing his rhythm and the both of their moans synchronized, as both were drawing to their finishes. You came first after a couple of his solid thrusts, letting an indistinguishable noise between a croak and a voice crack.

“Ahhh~ daddy, cum in me! Give it to me!”

Even if she did offer for him not to pull out, he still wanted to be responsible as it’s her first time ever doing this. He didn’t want to add on to any problems she already had going on in her life with an unplanned child. Officially in about five more sloppy thrusts, his seed began to conjure up the inside of his cock before he came.

“Hey, c’mere and open your mouth.” Miguel simply stated, and as she did as she was told, she kind of hissed trying to move over to open up her mouth to his dick. He pumped quickly at its shaft, running his thumb over the slick, round tip to trigger white strings of hot, solid white cum to land in both her mouth and face. Her tongue now covered in his nut, eyelashes that fluttered innocently, now has cum falling off of them in such a vulgar manner.

Damn, it felt like such a privilege to be able to rid away with your innocence.

[captain-mj]

Vampires Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Soap sat at the table right after sunset. His vampires, Price, and now Chuy, because apparently he decided to invite himself in, were sitting with him. Chuy was wearing his outfit again, deer skull included. It made him look very unnerving. 

“So your fiance will be here soon?”

Price nodded excitedly. “Yep. She’s wonderful.”

“She?” Ghost laughed before realizing he was serious. “Ah. Damn. Seriously?”

Price frowned. “I’m bisexual.”

“I know, I just thought better of women. Even witch women.” Ghost replied, shrugging. 

Price stared at him, slightly opened mouthed. “Damn. Cold, Simon.”

“Ghost.”

“Simon. Anyway, she’ll be here shortly. Her name is Clara.” He looked so happy that Soap couldn’t help but feel happy for him. Even if he was pretty sure Price was being used. 

Alejandro hummed. “Right. Anyway.”

Rodolfo raised his hand. “I don’t really care about your fiance, I’m more worried about the hunter walking around talking about bigfoot. Can we focus on that?”

“No. you guys gotta meet my fiance.” 

“Fuck that.” Alejandro spoke up. “I agree with my lovely husband.” He kissed Rudy’s hand, looking at him with giant heart eyes. 

Ghost groaned. “Do you guys have to be so in love?”

“Loser.” 

“Lonely ass bitch.” 

Ghost frowned. “Goddamn…” 

Price hissed loudly and they all turned towards him. He looked a little flustered, as if they weren’t actually supposed to hear him. He took a deep breath. “As the eldest vampire, I am requesting you guys please meet her.” It was said with a touch of… sincerity that had been absent from Price in a wild. 

Interviewer: I’ve been meaning to ask. Ghost puts up with Price because he’s his sire. Rodolfo seems to like him. However, you don’t seem to like him. 

Alejandro: Don’t know. Guess I miss how he was. Sometimes it feels like I got the last few years of lucidity. He probably told he was four hundred years older than Ghost right?

Interviewer: I thought he said two hundred.

Alejandro: He told Rodolfo a hundred. I thought for the longest time it was just something he did, but I think he just doesn’t remember.

Interviewer: Ah. And the comment about lucidity.

Alejandro: I think he’s half insane. It happens. Mentally, being alive a long time… it makes things tiring. 

Interviewer: I noticed the way you looked away when Rodolfo asked if you regretted being turned. Do you?

Alejandro: No. Course not. I love my husband.

Interviewer: I can see your love and devotion to him. But I’m asking, do you wish you died human? 

Alejandro: Sometimes, I do. I wish Rodolfo killed me that night. However, I’d never want to make him go through the centuries alone, so I’m glad I am here with him. 

Interviewer: Thank you, Alejandro.

“Alright, sir.” Ghost mumbled. “I’ll meet Clara.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. 

Price smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you, Simon. Rodolfo, Alejandro, Gaz, I hope you all like her.”

Simon and Chuy looked at each other and shook their heads.

Gaz hummed. “Will it be super awkward?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Gaz nodded. “That sounds nice. Like chicken soup after a hard day. I’m in.” 

Interviewer: So do you regret turning into a vampire?

Gaz: How do you know I wasn’t born an energy vampire?

Interviewer: Oh, were you? That’s fascinating.

Gaz: No, I mean I was turned. Just why did you assume?

Interviewer: I mean. I just thought all vampires were turned. Who was your sire? 

Gaz: My mom when she birthed me. I lied, I was born.

Interviewer canceled the rest of the interviewer due to “broken pencils��. 

Price smiled fondly at Gaz before quickly going to get the door, answering before Clara even had the chance to knock. She giggled as he picked her up and twirled her before leading her to the kitchen. 

“Oh this is nauseating.” 

Rodolfo hit Ghost. “They’re cute.”

They kissed passionately. 

“Nevermind.” Rodolfo hissed under his breath. “Clara?”

Clara quickly pushed Price back a little and properly introduced herself. She was how described. Dark hair and nice. 

Too nice. 

Soap liked her. She shook his head and smiled at him before moving on to them. 

“Oh!” Clara said softly while staring at Ghost. “You must be Simon.”

Price flinched and looked guilty. And a tiny bit betrayed, as if he had warned her prior.

“Don’t call me that.” Ghost got up. “Okay, this is horrible. I need to leave.”

Price grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. “A little effort.” 

“Don’t call me something stupid.”

Price sighed and plastered a smile on his face. “Ghost.” He introduced everyone there to Clara and Clara waved just a little. She didn’t look at Price much, but when she did, she did look like she liked him. Maybe not love in any of their opinions, but that’s okay. Maybe it would blossom? 

If they stayed together long enough. 

Maybe. 

The two of them stared at each other for just a second and Chuy got uncomfortable. 

“Alright. I’m gonna head out.” 

Clara frowned a little before perking up. “I’ve heard about a hunter in this area. Hope you’re doing okay and he hasn’t given you too many problems.”

Chuy faltered and shrank down when Reyes got brought up. Ghost wondered why he didn’t just have them get rid of the guy. It would be easier. 

“Well… yeah. He’s uh… Yeah…”

Clara noticed his hesitance and decided to drop it. 

They had a delightful conversation honestly. 

Price informed them all that the wedding would be that Friday. “Because of the goddess Freyja. May she bless our marriage.” He smiled, showing fangs. 

Rodolfo looked at the interviewer, clearly cringing. 

“That sounds wonderful.”

“May Clara stay here until then? We’re having the ceremony in the graveyard nearby.” Price took his hat off and held it to his chest in a pleading manner.

Collective groans occurred before they agreed. She could stay. 

Interviewer: The vampires think you’re after Price for his… uh…

Clara: His money? No. I’m rich enough actually.

Interviewer: No his… um… Dick?

Clara: It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not that artificial. I just want his heart. 

Interviewer: That’s sweet. 

Gaz put his hands on the table. “Before I ask this, I promise not to feed on anyone.”

Price nodded. “Okay.”

“Can I bring Alex?”

“That dog?” Price groaned. 

Alejandro started to look at face masks and Febreze. 

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend. You can’t tell me he’s not attractive.”

Soap nodded. “And really cool too.”

“See! And he doesn’t smell bad. He smells like cologne because he drowns himself in it before he comes here.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

Gaz sighed. “If he can’t come, I’m not coming.”

Price rubbed his temples. “Alright. He can come. Have him invite Laswell too.”

“At that point, why not invite the rest of the pack?” Alejandro pointed out, frowning. More out of confusion than anything else now. 

“Fair. Let’s just invite all of them. And Chuy. And Koenig if the lad can ever make it here. I heard he was coming to our area a while ago.” Price pointed out. 

Ghost hummed. “I’ll reach out to him through the ether later.”

“Fantastic idea!” Price clapped, looking very excited. “I’m getting married again!” 

Interviewer: So, why do you want to kill bigfoot so bad?

Reyes: Bigfoot took someone very dear to me. 

Interviewer: You want revenge?

Reyes: Yes. Bigfoot took… well. I shouldn’t say boyfriend. We were neighbors. Jesus. He was beautiful. He was kind. Rather generous but could set harsh boundaries if needed. I fell in love with him more every time we interacted. I watched that thing disappear from his home the same night he disappeared. 

Interviewer: And why a crossbow?

Reyes: Well, the majority of hunters use them. They’re quieter, easier to certain materials, and you can reuse arrows. Plus, a lot of creatures aren’t hurt by bullets and needed something sharp that will pierce them. 

Interviewer: Fascinating. Thank you so much. What else do you hunt?

Reyes: Well, normally I hunt and kill werewolves but since the night happened, bigfoot is all I have my eyes on. 

Interviewer: Understood. And where are your plans now?

Reyes: To break into the Scottish man’s home because I know he’s harboring monsters. 

Interviewer: How can you tell?

Reyes: Only someone who knows of monsters listens to advice from someone who’s a monster hunter. He didn’t take me seriously, so he wasn’t paranoid. 

Interviewer: That’s smart.

Reyes stayed true to his word. He caught them by surprise because the interviewer wasn’t going to interfere there. With his crossbow in hand, he aimed right at Chuy. Deer skull shining in the cryptic light of the room. 

“You bastard. I am finally getting my revenge against you.”

Chuy perked up when he came into the room. Not flinched or shrank or looked to leave. He leaned into Reyes’s aim. Soap thought he was an odd fellow. 

“Why?” Rodolfo interrupted his clearly well thought out speech. He was currently sewing and seemed a bit put off about being interrupted. Everyone else was around doing similar hobbies now that Price had stopped talking to them. Even Soap was just casually drawing. 

Reyes stumbled over it, caught off guard. “As I was about to explain.”

Clara snapped her fingers. There was no blast or light. Just a simple sound. 

Reyes swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Ah…. I was saying…” He paused again and this time frowned. His nose twitched and all the bravado left him. 

The man shook and shuddered, not fully reacting yet but clearly something… internal was happening. 

Chuy stood and rushed to grab Reyes who tried to get away from him. Soap prepared himself to watch Chuy rip the man to shreds but before Chuy could even lift his mask to uncover his mouth, Reyes shrank and contorted. His body twisted and curled, enough to drag ragged, pained groans before they transitioned into squeaks. The shirt in Chuy’s hands stayed solid but the rest dissolved and bubbled into the rest of him. And in his place stood. 

A rat. 

Well groomed and with fur as dark as Reyes’s hair. It looked soft. Almost cute. 

Chuy scooped him up immediately. “Enzo?”

The rats frantic movements to escape halted as it went still, looking at Chuy with wide rat eyes. 

Chuy slid the mask off, revealing his face to the rat who continued to stare.

“Mi corazón. I am so sorry. I was so bored with my old life, I never anticipated anyone noticing me being gone. Yes, I lived as your neighbor your years, but I never realized how you looked at me.”

Alejandro stopped playing the piano. The room was silent.

“I noticed you but you were human. I couldn’t… drag you into this world when it’s so unsafe.”

If Ghost put his hand on Soap, it wasn’t noticeable. 

“I live so long. I wanted to start new. Do something completely different. You were… new. So fun. Interesting. As you chased me, I will admit, I grew affectionate for you. Maybe that was my mistake, putting you in such danger.” Chuy gently pet the rat, watching it relax. “Mi corazón, can you understand me?”

No response. 

“That is okay. It’s best you still don’t know my affections. You should go home. Be human like you’re supposed to be.” 

Chuy gently held the rat. “My sweet Enzo.” He took a deep breath and held him out to Clara. “I appreciate what you did. But I’d like you to turn him back and erase his memories of me.” 

Clara frowned. “No.”

Chuy frowned. “What. No. You don’t get to say no, change him back.”

“I can’t. I’m not able to erase memories. Not the right kind of witch for that. If I make him human, he’ll probably kill us.”

“No, listen, I can talk to him then. Convince him to leave, he has a soft spot for me, It’ll be fine.”

Clara frowned and waved her hand, but nothing happened. “Sorry, out of juice. He’s stuck.”

Chuy stared at Enzo, the rat in his hands. 

“Look, luckily with his age, you have another few months!” She clapped happily. “Plus, well, he was only human. What’s the saying? Don’t worry about breaking them, they’ll die soon anyway? Or is it don’t worry about breaking them, they’re replaceable? You said it yourself, this world is dangerous for him. At least now, you can keep him safe in your pocket. Now, I’m going to go finish planning my wedding.”

Chuy stared at Reyes in his hands, clearly seething. He growled and Soap noticed how many teeth he had. 

“Do any of you know any other fucking witches?”

[nightswithkookmin]

ANOTHER TUKTUK ANALYSIS PT 4

Okay this is more of a discussion. Feel free to join in.

Will keep it brief.

Jungkook is shy. That's not exactly groundbreaking news. What's groundbreaking to me is the why he gets shy and the context within which he acts shy.

Scenario 1: JK walks into a room full of board directors and his cheeks tingles. We can chalk it to his inner koo. Shy at heart from day one. Awkward kid who don't know what to do with himself in a crowd of people.

Right?

But I'd go a little further as to say it's his self awareness and self consciousness rearing it's head. Given the power dynamics between him and this crowd I'd say he's feeling a little judgemental of himself, worried because he has to impress these people while also trying not to say anything stupid or out of touch. He's literally reading the room and adjusting himself to it.

Now typically this is what I think goes on whith him when he has to perform infront of a crowd or in any situation that requires him to put himself up to be judged and to be the center of attraction.

Scenario 2. He walks into a room full screaming fans and he acts shy. Now this time the power dynamics is almost equal. Unless he has reason to believe not eveey one in the audience is a fan, he should feel more at ease perhaps a little nervous but he's not judging himself or worried if he slips he's gonna be judged in this space.

But then suddenly, his cheeks go pink and shy koo rears his head.

Usually I'd assume it's because he's thought of something silly or even naughty and while he finds that amusing his subconscious takes not of just how inappropriate or shameless his thoughts or actions are.

This is usually the case when he is filming an interview and he says something scandalous like preferring sexy outfits to casual fits or admitting he's into something very niched.

His shyness in such instances is usually as a result of him exposing a vulnerable aspect of himself perhaps unwillingly and feeling abit judged about that. He's showing us the real him, his desires no matter how questionable we think it is. Yet it's his truth.

Again this happens when he flirts with a certain member, gets lost in a moment, or when the member expose a truth about him.

So yea, while Koo is naturally a shy boy there's more to him and more to this shyness.

Take his recent shy moment at the premiere for example. It's easy to tell it was probably because he was self conscious about the way he was dressed and particularly that hair do. I wouldn't say he wasn't confident about it, more like he thought it all a big joke. Tae probably teased him about his looks on their way to to carpet and I'd bet he made a few jokes about it himself.

But then, like the goof ball that he is he decides it's not his problem. Yall will have to deal with it.

No biggie.

But I was particularly fascinated by Tae's interactions with him in that moment. I've seen edits of him bumping into Jk and JK asking him what- Korean style. And the interpretation is that kook is shy, Tae clocks that he's shy and bumps into him to check on him.

Now that's sweet and all cos if I had a friend I would want them to cater to me in a time like that. And certainly more so if I was with my girlfriend- I mean boyfriend, just in case Jimin is reading this. Sire for you I'm straight and perpetually single finger hearts.

Tae kook is an interesting duo. I like watching their interactions a lot because I learn more about Kook that way. I like seeing both him and Jimin interact with different people just to see how unique their bond is as a pair.

Plus, Tae kook are great visuals.

As far as aesthetics go, I like seeing Tae with Jin, Tae with Kook and Tae with Jimin or some times Namjoon.

For Kook, I like seeing him with Jimin or Namjoon or Jin.

And for Jimin- honestly I like seeing him with anybody.

That's as far as looks go.

Chemistry wise however it's always going to be Jikook, vmin, minimoni, taejin, yoonmin, Sope, Jin-jimin. Chilee hopemin too💀

Jimin tends to be present with each member such that it renders each of his ships unique. Be it him being a friend and at times dongsaeng to Namjoon or a hyung to Jin.

And while the Maknae is always DEE Maknae of the group, it's interesting to watch him step up and dominate in certain ships.

And I get irritated sometimes when he's constantly babied and taken care of and not allowed to be JUNGKOOK- The man of many a teenagers dreams.

This JUNGKOOK.

The one who takes care of Bam and brushes his teeth, and takes him for a walk, and cooks for him and his friends and holds people's hands and leads them out of the airport.

The cook who puts people to bed and tuck them in and scolds them when they make mistakes and is caring and nurturing.

And it's obvious this side of him pops up more often in certain dynamics than others.

And I know I get ridiculed when I scream about Vmin- but yall just don't get it. One day you will. Jimin caters to Tae. He takes care of Tae and as strong and powerful as Tae is I actually enjoy watching him let his guard down and allowing another person take care of him😔

But I just don't see this in Tae kook. So it's really difficult for me to sing their praise sometimes. I want Jungkook to be his own man and I want Taehyung to be less guarded and broody. Yet Tae is always catering to Jk, babying him- which is not a bad thing really but it is frustrating to watch him give give give when sometimes Jungkook don't even want or care what he gives him.

We heard this man say on Soop how he offered Jk his friendship, for him to treat him like an equal yet Kook insisted on keeping his boundaries with him.

Someone bumps in to you to console you thinking you are feeling nervous and your response is Whuh??

Are you kidding Me?

And their shippers are glamorizing this? Like yall should be concerned💀

It is nice that Jk was posting him on his IG, throwing out invites to members and having him go over to his place. It's nice to see them actively work on their relationship together and maybe as time goes on we will see Kook going to Tae's home, asking him to stay for a chat, cooking for him, checking up on him on the red carpet to make sure he's doing alright too, saying thank you and warming up to him when he takes care of him and not treat him like a bro and friend always taking things for granted and not being fully present with him.

Their dynamic feels awfully one sided. Even when things are going well with them it still feels that way. Tae puts in so much effort, feels open and willing to give. And I see why Tuktukkers tend to hate on Jungkook or why Tae stans don't like him.

Remember when they went nuts because Tae tried to hold his hands at kbs studio and Jk ignored it cos he was I think trying to catch up with Jimin? Brains foggy on the facts a bit but yea. That happened.

Why can't they just understand these two are just friends and Jungkook don't even like Tae like that? He's just not into him. Sorry. Not even a little bit.

This reminds me of the live they did when they were doing arts and crafts and Jungkook's whole body was turned away he was almost out of shot.

Listen, don't think he doesn't know sometimes he's paired with Tae just to please an audience. Don't think he don't know. In fact don't think none of them don't know when they are required to fan service it up.

Most times when he acts like he doesn't want to be there, it's because he doesn't want to be there💀

If all you have for proof of chemistry between them is how Tae acts towards Kook then boy or boy are you in for a rude awakening. Check in with both ship captains if you want to be sane.

Wont lie, as good as they look visually, their interactions can be painful to watch sometimes. And mind you, I'm not being biased here. There was a time I didn't want Jikook to hug each other at all cos it always pissed me off how awkward their hugs were.

Their interactions were so awkward sometimes, Jimin had to literally prompt Kook to act natural around him. Kook used to act as if Jimin was a ticking time bomb and would go off and expose them any minute. These days he is the ticking time bomb Jimin has to watch out for. Totally unhinged.

Kook is not good at faking his feelings. And you see that play out most times in his interactions with Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung.

I like watching Namjoon nurture and mentor Tae, I like seeing Tae with Yoongi and I like seeing Jimin baby him.

Vmin is not real but at least their affections are mutually reciprocated- most times.

[colliholly]

do you have more chip x reader headcanons i loved the first one so much i need a sequel ;_;

Ask and ye shall receive, anon

Putting them under the cut as per tradition

🌲 Chainsaw Consultant/Chip Revvington x Reader 2: Revvington's Revenge

• I imagine if Chip caught feelings for someone, his work performance would suffer just a little bit due to distraction. Just enough for his coworkers to notice something’s off with his work output, which is rare for him.

• I think he’d also become noticeably nicer at work once he’s in a relationship. He still has to deal with the override of course, but when it’s just him, his coworkers would notice a change in him. He has someone to look forward to after work now. <3

• Chip would never be the one to confess first, especially not with the threat of the override looming over both of you. But, just to play with the idea of him doing so, if he WERE: He would be nervous and awkward when confessing, tugging at his cuffs and shirt collar and stuff like that. He’s also way too formal and stiff to straight up say “dating”, so he’d ask you if you wanted to “enter a partnership” with him or something.

• I think this can be pretty much applied to all Cogs, but Chip would be fascinated by your body. He'd like how soft and graceful you are, considering how bulky and not-soft (and sharp) he is.

• Chip has a hard time asking for affection. It’s half due to him worrying over accidentally hurting you (being a 12-foot-tall chainsaw robot) and half due to him feeling way too awkward to ask (again, 12-foot-tall chainsaw robot). That being said, if he does, it’s a sign of him putting aside his embarrassment as well as trusting you.

• Speaking of which, he’d really appreciate any kindness after an override at work. It’s days like those he’s especially exhausted.

• Since Chip isn't good with words, and his love language is very much action-oriented, I think he'd be a surprisingly good caretaker. If you were sick, he’d check in on you often and bring you anything you needed. If you fell asleep at your desk, he would pick you up and carry you to bed. However, he wouldn't realize the romantic implications of his actions, it's simply him trying to help you. But it is very affectionate and thoughtful regardless.

• This would also extend to more mundane daily things like reminding you to hydrate or take your meds. He wants you to be operating at your best so you can work your best. :)

• I think Chip is self-conscious of the enormous blade on his face. He would not openly talk about it but he is, at least on occasion. The closing remarks section from his interview is super telling of how other cogs view him:

"With that chainsaw apparatus, he'll be a great candidate for the position. Well, y'know, so long as he doesn't scare off his co-workers..."

• He’d be a little worried (and sometimes frustrated) of his inability to kiss you, too, and that he can’t provide in that aspect. But I think if you reminded him you like him just the way he is he’d get over it pretty quickly. 🤎

[monsterkong]

Kamala Harris’ Chair: A Symbol of Power or Insecurity?

Here’s something I didn’t expect to focus on during Kamala Harris’ CNN interview—the height of her chair! 😅 It seems trivial, right? But trust me, it’s the little things that can say a lot.

In the interview, Harris was seated in such a way that she almost looked miniature. And for the record, she’s not that short! She’s about 5'4" or 5'5", so why did the production team make her look like a hobbit? 🧝‍♀️ The chair positioning was so noticeable that some speculated it was designed to allow her to discreetly reference notes on her lap. 👀

This odd seating arrangement, combined with the rumors circulating about the upcoming September debate—where Harris allegedly requested to use notes and remain seated—got people talking. Whether true or not, the optics of a politician needing extra comfort in the form of a lower chair or notes doesn’t exactly scream "powerful leader." 🪑

It even struck a chord with me personally. At 6'1", I have a long wingspan, but a short torso, and sitting down next to someone shorter can make me feel... well, awkward! Harris’ seating situation reminded me of how small details in an interview can be amplified, making her look physically small when she’s anything but that.

It might seem minor, but in the world of politics, every visual is scrutinized. This whole chair thing might come across as a quirky production choice, or maybe it reflects something deeper about the way political figures are handled in the media. Either way, it’s a fascinating moment in an otherwise serious interview. 💺

[rickybaby]

The idea that Daniel is really aware again of the sacrifices of Formula 1 makes a lot of sense to me. It feels like he had to remake that choice to go for it, and having the time off reminded him of what life could be like without Formula 1 (didn't suck necessarily), so he really is doing this consciously again in a way that you lose a little of when the sport becomes your "normal" for so long

Honestly, I have found it fascinating to read Daniel’s interviews about his time off and making his way back into formula one. I know a lot of people find the way he’s talked about things too on the nose or maybe just therapy-speak, but I feel like there has been a thread of genuineness through everything he’s said. It’s not very often you see athletes put their hands up and accept they’ve failed like he did at the end of his time at McLaren, but then he went away and found an appreciation for life without formula one. As you’ve said, it didn’t necessarily suck but it probably also made him realise that this wasn’t the life he wanted to live yet and he had to make that conscious decision to come back.

And he’s talked about how important it was that the motivation to work hard came from himself and so he went back and looked for it in the Daniel who left home at 17. I see a lot of young Daniel in him now in those rare off-track moments we’re lucky to see. Obviously he’s outgrown the shyness and awkwardness, but he has the same quiet introspection now

Which is why I think he has this edge of anger in him lately. He feels boxed to a certain extent by this image of the carefree guy he’s played for so long on camera. It was easy to lean into that image when he was doing well on track because it made everything he did look effortless, but now it works against him because he has to constantly prove he’s here because he loves racing and that he’s working twice as hard as the others.

Personally, seeing Daniel not hesitating to call people out on their bullshit is so refreshing because it’s such a step away from the people-pleaser that he is or this always-on PR guy image he has. He can’t be bothered to suffer fools because he knows his worth, knows where he’s at and what he needs to do and he won’t hesitate to remind people

[monstersinthecosmos]

September 7, 1973

A week ago he picked up Darla at the trendy bar two blocks away. And she was cool. It was a good story and they had a nice night after. And it’s felt like such a long fucking week.

But tonight he’ll try a little harder. Get his shit together. He always finds more interesting people at the gay bars on Friday nights, and he keeps a list to rotate through them. 

He doesn’t want drama or anything, and he thinks he’s always been fair to people. He doesn’t try to trick them in their interviews, and the versions that air don’t villainize anybody. And he wouldn’t sleep with any of them if it seemed like it would compromise the story, or make it harder to navigate the club scene. His excuse is that if he rotates through more bars, more neighborhoods, that he’ll be widening his sample group, but a small part of him also hopes to avoid the awkwardness of confronting a one night stand.

Anyway, it’s Pink Baby night.

It’s been a couple months since he went out to that one. And there’s something nagging him as he’s getting ready. Every time he’s gone to the Pink Baby he’s felt underdressed, out of place. Stuff like that doesn’t usually matter to him, but it’s been such a long week and his mind is spiraling little bit. He can picture himself lugging around his bag (be real, Molloy, it’s a briefcase and you look like an asshole) like a fucking square and he can picture himself discovering the most fascinating person there. And what if he looks too foolish, too childish, what if he misses out?

So he combs his hair. Thinks about his outfit for more than five seconds. High waisted corduroys and a thick belt. Jeff told him they make his ass look good. And a nice shirt that he tucks in. And his bomber jacket, the shiny blue one with a sun on the back. The sun rays curve over the shoulders, end over his sternum. He checks himself out in the bathroom mirror and thinks it should be okay.

He preps a flask to keep in his pocket for later, and chews on a cold piece of pizza. He digs through his bag on his desk, checking that all his equipment is ready, he has enough batteries, enough tapes. 

Charlie’s tape is still in the side pocket. 

He holds it in his hand, turns it over, taps his nails against the hard case.

This one will never be published, he thinks. It’s too raw. There’s no narrative to spin except to make him sound like a lunatic, and even if Daniel doesn’t believe him, he aches with anxiety as he remembers the way Charlie cried.

He hadn’t gotten around to labeling it. Hasn’t taken notes. Just stuck it in the side pocket to keep it safe.

Well. 

He cracks the case open. Sticks the tape into the recorder.

No one needs to hear this one. He’ll tape over it if he meets somebody tonight. And he hopes he meets someone tonight, because it’s been a shitty week and he wants to unwind. And if that someone wants to fuck him after, that would be fine, too.

So he’s got a beer in hand forty minutes later and he’s circling the perimeter of the room, studying the options, looking for the right person. There are a few familiar faces as he weaves through but nothing awkward. He drinks too fast, maybe, fidgeting, feeling like he’s off his game for some reason.

The bottle is empty by the time he does a loop all the way around. He rolls it between his palms as he makes his way back to the bar, and thunks it down, and he’s fishing money out of his pocket for a replacement when he feels something. 

Unmoving, unnatural. Blur of shapes in his periphery as the bartender slides the new beer to him.  Cracked Actor by David Bowie comes on, so loud that the floor vibrates beneath his feet, and he turns to see the person hovering nearby.

This is the one, he thinks.

It’s not always easy to know, not just from looking at someone. In fact, Daniel would discourage hunting that way. Being so superficial, so judgmental, is the opposite of empathy. But every so often there’s just, something about someone.

Intuition, maybe. The jolt of energy that zippers up the insides of his thighs.

He sips his beer and barely tastes it, his brain three steps behind him trying to make sense of what he’s looking at. Too overwhelming to process the striking, uncanny beauty in the same moment he notices the severely black suit, the emerald ring, the fucking cape.

Daniel’s heart races. He almost chokes on his beer as the man turns to stare right into him.

“Hello,” he says, serene, no attempt to be heard over the music but it hits Daniel straight in the chest. He puts the beer down and wipes his hand on his pant leg before reaching out to shake.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m Daniel.”

The man’s gaze drifts downward to Daniel’s hand, thick black lashes and bright green eyes. Studying for a moment as if Daniel is the weirdo here. And then he smiles, quietly amused, and accepts.

Cold, Daniel thinks, immediately, before it even registers. The man’s hand is so fucking cold. And so soft, and so…

Their eyes meet again. 

Daniel thinks he’s safe about interviews, about picking up strangers. He usually feels people out before inviting them somewhere private. Sometimes if he’s not positive, maybe not-so-private. Somewhere with a second exit, or thin walls if he has to scream. But there have been times, in this situation, with all these alarms sounding through his insides, that he never even pitches. 

But he can’t look away.

Too green, and his skin is too pale. The neons over the bar catch the sharp angle of his cheekbone, the strong jaw, and he doesn’t seem…

He thinks of Charlie, for some reason. Fuck, he even thinks of the midnight sun guy. Can’t remember his name, but his voice echoes inside Daniel’s skull. Cosmic horror. And he wonders, for a moment, if these two weren’t full of shit. If things are out there.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Daniel asks. 

The stranger nods, and his eyes don’t leave Daniel in the time it takes to flag the bartender down, to pay him, to slide the beer over. And the stranger stares at it like he’s never seen one in his life, like all of this is an oddity, and he curls his hand around the bottle but doesn’t drink it.

And Daniel thinks he’s safe. About interviews. About going to new places, with new people. With strangers. And he thinks he’s good at reading people. Someone might be fucking crazy, wearing a cape to a bar, but this guy is so… 

Safe. And Daniel doesn’t pick people for how they look. Sometimes they fuck him after but it’s not…

All the air empties out of his lungs. His face feels numb. He sits on the bar stool and reaches for his cigarettes, fumbling because he can’t look away.

Too clear to be a crazy person, Daniel thinks. A fucking character, though. A goldmine. 

The stranger reaches forward, gently taking the matchbook from Daniel’s hands as he struggles with it. Snaps one alight, stares into Daniel’s eyes as he cups his hands around the flame and lifts it for him.

And the firelight, dancing in his eyes. 

No one believes me, Charlie had cried.

Daniel inhales. Shudders in pleasure. Fresh first hit, and his mind perks back up. The stranger blows the match out, almost delicately, and places it into one of the ash trays on the bar.

All the blood vessels in his brain open up. His shoulders relax. The head rush hits him the way his arousal does, and for a moment it’s all he can think about. Aching between his legs and he feels like he’s floating.

The Bowie chords throb through his core and they sound so fucking raunchy.

He should be safe. 

The stranger hasn’t blinked once, this whole time, Daniel thinks. 

But he should be safe. Even though something feels off. Something in his gut telling him that this is dangerous. It pinches his sides, kicks his heart into overdrive, but each drag of his cigarette smoothes it out into something so warm. And as he watches the stranger’s face he feels like, like…

Like he can’t tell it apart anymore.

[previous day] | [next day]