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#was involved with two musicals for a second
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Rat Bastard - Part 6
Pairing: You x Kyungsoo
Rating: M (Mature)
Word Count: 11200
Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers, Fear, Spiders
Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
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You’d expected some downtime; some boredom. It simply wasn’t possible for these three desperate employees to keep the two of you entertained for every minute of the day.
You had to admit you were both surprised and shocked when you actually saw the giant crate of activities and games; there were tons of board games, even more possibilities with the decks of cards you saw. There were even a whole slew of movies and a small device which you were told was a projector which would show the movie on any blank white wall, of which there were many to pick from. Mr. Chen was unpacking what seemed to be an endless bottomed box and you weren’t the only curious observer lightly touching the things that interested you the most.
You’d been instructed to grab items and make a stack of things you were interested in doing. You’d reached for one of the word games, one of the ones involving strategic spellings of words which you remember playing as a kid with your Grandmother and you placed it in front of you. This was your pick.
“Oh that one is fun, I haven’t seen this in years,” Kyungsoo’s fingertip touched just on the corner of your game and he picked up another classic with a grin, “this one too,” he said under his breath. It was like he was speaking to himself but he seemed to be adding things to your personal pile.
Did he think he was involved in your pile?
Did he take this, like the cooking exercise, as a team activity? The instructions implied that you were to build your own pile but Kyungsoo had just added Uno to the top of the stack he was building with your first choice board game trapped on the bottom.
You reached for the deck of cards because there was always poker and it also was vital for the backgammon game you’d just grabbed. You slowly began to build a smaller, separate pile beside the one he had commandeered, removing your first choice from underneath his and moving it to your own side.
“Ooo,” his eyes widened and he plopped Monopoly down right on top of your second stack, “I'm gonna kick your ass at that one.”
You lifted his game off of your stack and plopped it roughly down on top of his own stack.
“These are my picks, those are yours,” you mumbled a rhetorical, “who even wants to play monopoly?” You remembered the game being long and tedious. He looked at you and laughed once, grabbing another game, this one a music themed game similar to charades but with musical guesses and you’d heard through friends that he actually had a great singing voice. You never thought you’d actually get to hear it. He pointedly ignored your stack separating attempts and plopped this game on top of your stack.
“You're gonna sit all alone in a corner and play Scrabble by yourself? Come on, quit being stupid.” He ignored the small sound you made and grabbed your games, placed them in the same stack as his games and lifted the whole stack and walked away from you to set them on another table. He was already pulling the lid off of one of his games to start playing it and the other three people in the room quickly followed suit and began to pull chairs out of the table he was setting up. Those traitors. Why did his game get to be played first? You’d been standing at your original spot with your arms folded over your chest when he looked up from the money he was counting and separating to speak to you.
“Come and get your ass handed to you like a good little princess.”
You rolled your eyes harder than you’d rolled them before. You rolled them hard enough to really sell your annoyance at his antics. You rolled them desperately and very convincingly. Inside of your chest there was the most annoying little tickle brought on by his choice of words. This nickname of his for you sure had a way of making everything he said sound just a tiny bit suggestive. Or maybe you had just read too many trashy romance novels in your youth. God, you were lonely.
But more than lonely, right now you were bored. You pulled up to your chair for the game. Javier was the last to sit down after bringing over some snacks and some drinks. You were handed a champagne glass with orange juice and the first sip told you it was heavy on the champagne. It wasn’t even noon yet. He was back to his old tricks when you looked up into his eyes and caught the secretive smile.
Kyungsoo was sipping on a Bloody Mary with a celery stick in it and you braced for the first round of the game. You had always figured he was the competitive type. He had to be in his line of work, to have reached the levels of success as he had reached in such a cut-throat industry. And nearly every interaction you’d had with Kyungsoo had told you such. This man simply had to win. The way he wouldn’t back down from his story and lie against you and that level of stubbornness, well, he basically pitted everything he had against you. This translated into something entirely insane when playing a board game against him.
The first round of the game, when someone would usually settle into the groove of things, rolling their dice and moving their pieces, was unlikely to buy the property they landed on in the very first round — Kyungsoo’s first round came after the rest of the players had had a go around. Mr. Chen had purchased his property, Sara had landed in a space that gave her a few bucks, Javier didn’t buy anything and neither had you. You weren’t particularly interested in the cheap ones at the start of the board. Kyungsoo’s turn came around and he landed on one of Mr. Chen’s neighboring properties and immediately purchased it. Then his deals started. He was making a deal with Mr. Chen. Mr. Chen was accepting. He was grinning widely and spending money like there was no tomorrow. What about the future Kyungsoo? What would you do if you simply went broke? He was buying housing for his land. He was putting up buildings and you watched this crazy man go full tilt into this stupid game.
You figured you needed to do something on your next round and you bought whatever you happened to land on. Not really paying too much attention to deals and such, you weren’t a big negotiator.
The game progressed and every single one of Kyungsoo’s rounds felt exhausting. He was doing quick math, making deals with everyone else at the table, but weirdly he never once tried to make any deals with you. He was putting up more property every single time. You were sure he was nearly broke. There was no way this was sustainable. The deals grew more intricate with each round. There were even loans passing around between Mr. Chen and Kyungsoo who seemed to have developed some sort of a partnership in this.
Again and again, you were overlooked by the man who seemed to be setting up some sort of a scheme. He was the owner or partnered with the owner of nearly every single space in this game. It felt unfair. There should be some sort of a law against this kind of thing, it was like a monopoly — oh god, oh god that was the name of this game. He was an expert at it. He had been planning it from the start and he showed you in particular absolutely no mercy. In every single round, you lost money to him.
His fat stacks of bills grew to obscene amounts and he had to cash in some 5s, 10s, 20s for 100s or 500s. He was relentless with you. But only with you. You noticed he had a lot of leniency on the other players at this table. He giggled and gave Sara a discount with a sweet smile on his face during one of her stays at his fancy property, and when you pointed out that he wasn’t allowed to do that he just shrugged and told you he could do what he wanted with his own property while you sat in jail for four whole rounds, unable to roll doubles to get yourself out. You actually began to enjoy being in jail as you sipped on your third mimosa because at least you weren’t putting your precious money into that man’s demanding palm.
It all came to a head when you had just gotten out of jail and landed in one of his places. You did have enough cash to cover rent but just barely and he sat beside you flush with his cash, property, even get out of jail free cards, which he had traded Javier for a free stay at his most expensive resort for.
You looked at him and he looked at you with the smallest lift of a single eyebrow because he knew you were screwed. You had a single property card left that you had been holding onto to keep him from owning every single space of that color. You swore you wouldn’t give it to him but at this rate you might end up homeless with only this to your name. It was a miserable sort of existence. You couldn't afford not to be in jail and you missed the peace and quiet and free meals of those metal bars that protected you from this mad man.
The more you replayed the entirety of this game, It was becoming more and more evident that his entire game plan had been to bankrupt and ruin you. He made no efforts to partner with you, make deals with you and only ever seemed to create situations that would affect you negatively. He was so good at it too you wondered if he’d been training for years on how to be a grade-A asshole to his friends.
“Can I have a discount?”
“You don't deserve a discount.”
“You gave Sara a discount.”
“Sara isn’t a four-time felon. I might have to charge you even more for a security deposit. Who knows what sorts of sordid things you’ll be up to in there. I know your type.”
Sara’s little metal train play piece had been sitting in the jail space and you watched as she carefully moved her piece to the outer edge so it clearly sat inside the ‘just visiting’ space around the incarcerated section.
“Excuse me, I was not convicted of any crimes. I never even had a trial.” You couldn't help the actual offense you took at his words. Your type? What type? The poor, marginalized, under-educated, school to prison pipeline, falsely accused and incarcerated type? This society has been set up to see you fail. The entire system was against you from the start.
“That’s what they all say,” he laughed out loud, “Everyone in jail swears they are innocent.” His outstretched hand moved closer to you and you hmph-ed back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest.
You were annoyed. You couldn’t help it. He was such a jerk and he was ridiculously against you in this game and in this life. You dropped your voice to a whisper and you leaned in closer to where he sat on his mountain of gold. “Kyungsoo, do you remember when we were cooking breakfast together? Do you remember how well we got along—”
You had his attention. He watched your face with a little lift of his eyebrow, no doubt his mind flying through a multitude of possible things you were about to remind him of — the embraces, the gentle and slow touches between the two of you, the pride in his eyes when you’d done something to please him — he looked down the length of your face as if he was compelled to and when his eyes bounced back up to look into your eyes once more you inhaled to continue speaking, “—when you weren’t allowed to talk?”
He lifted a hand to cover over his mouth and he snorted out a quick and silent laugh. It burst free from him and no amount of steely resolve could have kept that laugh inside of him. His eyes rolled closed with it and then back open and he lifted a hand, palm up and opened and closed his fingers twice. You hadn’t expected any other outcome. Not after basically telling the jerk that your favorite part about him was when he wasn’t speaking.
“You’re mean,” you said with a grumble and a severe pout of your lips, feeling actually upset deep down inside of you at how badly he had been picking on you during this entire game. The others at the table just giggled. “He’s crazy,” you heard Javier and Mr. Chen say to each other. His greedy fingers were leafing through your bills as he grabbed enough money to cover your rent, leaving a few small bills left behind.
By the next round you were bankrupt and out of the game.
You were only his first victim. It wasn’t long before partnerships were quickly abandoned in the name of record-breaking profits and long-time friendships were severed by filthy greed.
You just shook your head each time it happened, adding a loud “I told you not to trust him. Didn’t I warn you? He’s evil!” which was quickly countered with his overly defensive and judgmental rebuttal.
“This is how you play the game, Princess. Don't cry just because you’re bad at it. Think of it this way, you survived for six whole rounds and you even bought and sold property, which is much more than some incredibly stupid people do in their entire lifetimes.”
The group was imploding around you. A heated discussion about loyalty and friendship was being held over the sounds of crinkling bills and plastic clanking as properties were sold off to pay the man who was evil enough to become an actual billionaire if only this game had printed enough fake money to make that happen.
He won the game by crushing everyone else around him. You swore then and there that if you ever had the chance to see this man again, which was unlikely once you left this emergency shelter, if by some twisted nightmare of fate you ever had the misfortune of spending any amount of time with him and you were presented with the invitation to play this game again with him, you would throw yourself off the roof, you would hurl yourself into the sea, you would rather literally watch professional golfing marathons on tv. Never again. Not this game, not with this man.
Everyone needed a break after the game was over. You retreated to your space for a small while, laying down under your comfy down blanket and quickly deciding that you were simply too sick of sleeping to be in here. It was late morning and you’d had a few drinks by now and after leaving your room you wandered through the hallways, finding a space where one too many spiderwebs touched your skin that you just had to turn around and head back toward the kitchen.
It was mostly peaceful and empty here except for one person who stood at the stove. Kyungsoo was doing something in the kitchen and instantly, like a magic potion had been cast you felt all of the hard feelings about that game fade with the possibility that he might be cooking something tasty.
You slinked up by his side and he turned to the sounds of you coming, quickly spinning around and stepping to his ‘interior’ side to block your view of the pot he had on the stove. You didn’t smell anything delicious in the air and his hands were out the moment you arrived, grabbing you by the arms and holding you at a clear distance.
“What are you doing? Go back to your bed.” Your suspicions were raised. He was hiding something delicious. He was about to have ramen, maybe even two packs from the communal goods that Roxy and Jun had left behind and the filthy cheater was about to eat them both all by himself. You didn't see any piles of ingredients anywhere on the countertop
“What are you making?” You were direct with your words. You pushed your shoulders forward, trying to free yourself from his hold. He held on tighter. Behind you on the stove you could hear the bubbling of the water starting to boil. He would have to tend to his secret dish soon to keep from overcooking it. From the few times you’d cooked with him he was a stickler for cooking times and temperatures and doneness levels. He was insane about it.
“No, no, just go away,” you were being shoved backward with the two steps he took foward. His words didn't sound too serious. Whatever it was that he was hiding from you was fair game. You heard the soft grunt as he struggled and you tried to peer your head around his shoulder. He countered by tilting his own head to block you again.
“What are you making? Let me see. You’re sharing with me, I caught you so half is mine.” You were already giggling when you lifted both of your hands like claws and quickly began to stab him with your fingertips right on his ribs. “That makes no sense. Are you a squatter?” He said through a gasp and he yelped and let out some quick giggles with the tickling.
His hands moved from your shoulders to your hands. He was grabbing them and you felt spun in place, suddenly looking at the door with one of his strong arms wrapped around your chest. Your two hands were trapped behind your back and he held on tightly to both of them with his other hand, in an instant he had you trapped and you were facing away from the bubbling pot. Your hands were bound between your two bodies but you could totally still get him from here. You reached again, lower this time, feeling the lower part of his abdomen. You could hear his giggling from beside your head and you swear to God you felt a euphoric sensation pulsing through your entire body to hear it. You felt like you weren’t quite in your right mind, not with the alcohol, not with the desperation for a win against him. You were pressed right up against his body again and why the hell was he so strong? Why did every single touch of his hands feel like it would consume you from within?
“Stop, stop,” he was begging but still refusing to let you go. If he wanted you to stop, wouldn't he have let you go first, his strong hand still held both of yours tightly behind your back and you moved your hand lower, feeling the very real and sudden danger of reaching for a part of him you should never, ever touch. You felt the waistband of his denim shorts, the leather of the belt he wore there and his shirt shifted and you felt the warmth of the bare skin of his belly that surged with each of the heavy breaths he took against your neck. The rough but steady exhales seemed to change when you touched him. Something was changing and you slowed your hand, still pressed up against his skin, your fingertips lightly touching the leather of that belt. His hand that held onto yours moved too and you felt the soft tips of his fingers move just over your hand there. You felt the trembling and staggered touch of his hand. Why was he trembling? Why was his touch more gentle than the previous rough gripping?
“I’ll stop if you stop,” you exhaled into the space in front of you, “besides, I already caught you. There’s no use delaying this.” Curiously, you had both stopped laughing but his arms were still around you, although the tightness of his grip he held you with had let up. You could escape quite easily if you wanted to. You could leave his embrace and you should. You really ought to put a healthy amount of space between the two of you, if you knew how an enemy should be treated, if you knew what was good for you, you would.
You took the smallest step forward, thankful for the drop in temperature that brought just a little bit of sense back into your brain. You took another step forward and his hand that had been holding your hand still gripped along your palm as you moved. You weren't quite sure why you did not feel compelled to let his hand go, you held on to him with the same amount of pressure as he held you and you turned to take one look behind him at the stovetop with the pot that sat bubbling and dancing behind his back.
You saw something green, something green and white standing up inside of that boiling pot of water. Something plastic.
Something hilarious. The crazy man was boiling his toothbrush. You saw it and you covered your mouth to keep the snort from escaping. It didn’t help. You snorted in laughter and you could feel the shift in his body as he sagged his shoulders in defeat.
Kyungsoo was frozen. He made no attempts to stop you from looking just as he hadn’t made any moves to let go of your hand, and when you looked up into his face he was standing with his free hand covering his closed eyes. He was pink.
You were openly laughing and you shook his hand that you still held as you did it, “did you seriously boil your toothbrush, Doh Kyungsoo?”
“Shut up,” he whispered through clenched teeth, “this is why I didn’t want you to see.”
You lifted a hand to lay over his pink cheek and you were almost laughing too hard to get any real words out, “d-did you want to get r-rid of my foot germs, Kyungsoo?”
“Shut up,” you felt the smallest push against your hand away from his face, then another push against your shoulder and he was quickly spinning, letting go of your hand as he did it, as if he hadn’t also been the one to hold onto you for much longer than necessary even long after you’d both swallowed down whatever might been happening with your hands behind your back a few seconds earlier.
“God, you’re so mean to me. I can’t believe you did that. I asked everybody and nobody has any extras. You know the worst part? I can't even tell if you’re telling the truth about it. Did she really use my toothbrush to clean her foot? Did she really scrub between her toes or is she just fucking with me again. You make me feel crazy. All I want to do is brush my teeth…but feet…toes,” he was whining now, full on whining half mixed with giggles because even he knew how insane he sounded. He was using the handle of the toothbrush to stir it into the boiling water. You could feel the spasms of laughter build up again in your belly. You had to hold onto yourself to keep from doubling over.
“Oh so I’m guessing you’re not one of those guys with a foot fetish then,” You joked as you busied yourself now with gathering things so you could make your own damn ramen.
“Sorry to disappoint you but I do not. Even so, a foot fetish is not an ‘ancient bacteria from the dirty floor of an 18th century, spider infested, bunker in my mouth’ fetish. What if you single handedly brought back cholera?”
“I don't think cholera is gone. I think it still lurks.” You still couldn't help the giggles even if you absolutely did not like the idea of your sleeping space being spider infested. You hadn’t quite worked up the courage to inspect all of the dark spaces around your bed for fear of what you might find.
“Great. That’s great news. How long do I need to boil this to kill cholera?” His face was exasperated now, half laughter mixed with a hopelessness that was absolutely adorable on him.
You found yourself staring at him. You came to when he’d long stopped giggling and his eyes bounced a few times over your face, his eyebrows lifting up with the tiniest bounce of his cheekbones, lips lifted in the corners slowly flattening out with the tiniest flinch of his face. It was the winding down of his laughter and he licked his lips, leaving them behind wet.
He cleared his throat. You closed your eyes, unable to keep them completely closed, your eyelids fluttered, fighting you to open back up and look at him for longer, and the breath you inhaled didn’t seem to help with any of this.
You needed something to do. You’d gathered some packs of ramen and the camping stove and fuel from the communal table and you plopped it all down on the countertop beside his boiling pot o’ toothbrush.
“Make me ramen,” you said with a little lift in your voice and tilt of your head. Not quite a request, not quite a command, more of a sweet suggestion. “Think they’d let us eat outside on the patio? I think the wind has died down a lot. It’s just raining now”
He’d finally reached some imaginary bacteria killing length of boiling time and he was tapping the toothbrush on the side of the pan to remove the excess water.
“You’re not going to try and commit suicide again are you?”
You shook your head back and forth, placing your hand over your heart, “I won't even go close to the edge, I promise.”
“Your promises mean nothing.” He deadpanned, but he was reaching into the fridge for some eggs, reaching into the shelves for the cans of spam he’d put there and stacking it all up on top of the the stove as he made his way toward the patio door.
“Bring the water bottle there,” he pointed to the countertop and you grabbed the big bottle and brought it along with the pan for him to cook in, and some chopsticks and spoons for both of you. For the first time since this trip started you cautiously began to feel a little bit happy to be here with him. He would make you delicious ramen and maybe you’d get to steal some more glances at his pretty face without getting caught.
He’d already been out on the patio to drop off the supplies by the time you came to the door with your arms full, he held the door for you. He seemed to be going back inside for something and you heard him call back toward you, “Hey! My batteries. You never gave them to me. I’ll bring them with the radio.”
So much had happened since then that you had just forgotten about them. You simply nodded as a response and told him they were in your luggage by the bed; wondering when in the hell you began to feel so comfortable with this man and you felt no qualms about sending him rooting through your luggage to find the batteries himself. You knew he’d have to get through many items such as the underwear you’d brought, the bikini he had already seen you in, the personal items such as your perfume, makeup, and your deodorant. All of those things were right there for him to witness. Little human things that had no business being embarrassing but were nonetheless.
A sudden panic built when you remembered a particular pack of items that you had brought along to this retreat that you’d all but given up on getting the chance to use here, the box of condoms you’d stuffed into your bag at the last minute. They would have been within touching distance of your big pack of batteries. There was no way he wouldn’t see them.
He took a while to return. You used that time to build up a thoroughly deep-set sense of embarrassment for what sordid conclusions you were sure he would have jumped to about you. Perhaps he’d find you to be some easy or cheap floozy. You were an adult. You were allowed to partake in and enjoy sex. You were healthy and alive and you had regular doctors appointments and you took your sexual health seriously. Why did it feel so weird though? That he might know this about you when he saw them; that he might have an opinion on the quantity of condoms in the box, a generous 20 pack, not because — not because you intended on having sex 20 times in a single week but, but because — Well … well, what if? The packs they had at the store came in 3, 10, or 20 and what if you had met the love of your life here and what if you just had to close up shop after 10? What if time number 11 was going to be the best time? You were thoroughly overthinking this. You were an expert at this, overthinking things and making yourself feel embarrassed for no reason especially when it came to Doh Kyungsoo. It was practically your default setting with him.
The door opened and you jumped in surprise; halfway through the scenario you’d imagined in which you hadn’t brought the brand new pack of 20 condoms and instead had just tossed in the already open box of 5 with one missing because you were curious about just how stretchy they actually were and you opened it to blow it up into a balloon. It was actually very stretchy and you might have just kept on blowing if you hadn’t been gagging from how awful the spermicidal liquid that filled it tasted when it got on your lips. Imagine if he found the open box with one missing already! Who had you used that one condom on at this stage in the game?! What would he think then?! You felt dizzy.
He was pushing through the doorway with a six pack of beers he’d swiped from Javier’s stash and he had his radio in one hand and in his other he gripped the batteries he’d found in your luggage right beside the big box of your stupid condoms.
He sat down on the bench beside you and you watched as he opened the little flap on the back of his radio and inserted each battery carefully, bringing it to life and switching between staticky radio stations until something clear sounded through with easy to listen to pop music playing. When he moved down to sit on the floor where the stove was set up, you quietly moved down to sit beside him.
You watched him work, feeling the very real remnants of the embarrassment you’d tricked yourself into feeling earlier still lingering in the warmth of your cheeks. He was setting up the stove and filling the pan with water, he was opening the packets of ramen and setting the flame to the right height below the pan.
You felt the need to do something too so you reached for the bags of snacks you’d brought, opening the bag and laying it flat, then reaching for the beers, pulling two off the plastic ring and opening them. You met his eyes briefly as he grabbed the beer you offered and after he took a sip of it he set it down and stared down at the pan full of water, just waiting for it to boil. He was quiet for a while until he inhaled to speak to you. You knew he had inhaled because you’d been staring at his face when he did it, when his pink lips parted and he pulled the breath in through his mouth and those lips stayed open enough for some words to come out.
“You alright?”
It was a small and quick question. He lifted his beer and tilted his head for the drink, a small stream of the liquid pooled inside his mouth and he dropped the can as he closed his mouth and swallowed it.
“Yeah,” you whispered just barely loud enough to be heard over the rain, “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
He shrugged, half of a shrug really. Barely even a shrug. “You’ve gone quiet,” he said and after the words his lips stayed open and you could see the tip of his tongue touching along the edge of his teeth for a moment. His eyebrows ticked above his eyes. “You’ve gone pink, too.”
You lifted your beer and took a big drink of it, holding the can up to lay over your cheeks. You could feel the heat in your face and the cold can helped just a little bit.
Not that he deserved it, but you felt weirdly compelled to fess up. You knew you were acting weird.
“I feel a little,” you started, turning your face away from him to continue, “weird…about something.”
“Weird like what? What about?” You hadn’t felt quite this disarmed around him before. It felt dangerous to let yourself speak so easily with him.
“Weird cause you hate me?” His next question came out very quietly and you pulled your eyes away from the raindrops steadily falling over to look at his face.
You opened your mouth to speak, finding the denial ready and heavy on your tongue. It was stuck there though and you closed your mouth back up and lifted the beer to take a long drink instead. The best you could do was the small head shake. You inhaled a breath and found he’d looked up from his boiling water to watch your face for your response.
Did he really want to ruin this nice moment to get into all of that right now?
“The water is boiling,” you said, meeting his eyes that still watched you without moving for two more swallows from this beer can you’d held onto for dear life.
He seemed to let it go. He was adding noodles and cracking eggs all fancy and one-handed, adding sliced spam and green onions on top. He was lightly prodding it all with the tips of his chopsticks and handing you the lid to use to catch the dripping noodles when they were done cooking.
You both grabbed noodles to eat at the same time and after he’d slurped up a particularly hot and noisy bite he sighed heavily while looking out toward the rain storm.
“Ramen really is the perfect food,” he remarked with his cheeks full of noodles.
Your nose was running a little from the steam and the spiciness of the broth but you held a ball of chewy and delicious noodles in your cheek and nodded your head earnestly. They were delicious and followed with the beer was even better than anything any 5 star chef could possibly whip up in the fanciest of kitchens.
It was when your mouth was filled with another bite some time later that he inhaled again, satisfied with his belly full of noodles, he turned to you and opened his mouth. His eyes narrowed at you before he said it.
“Twenty feels like a lot, though,” he said it so abruptly and you choked on the soup you were swallowing and started to cough, which he ignored, “logistically, I mean. This was originally a 5-day retreat.”
His eyes were still narrowed in your direction and you lifted a handful of the chips you’d opened up and threw several right at his face. His lips pulled into a teasing smile and he lifted a hand and swatted a few of the chips away. Two of them hit him in the face. His lips were pulled into a grin. You were still coughing and trying to keep your laughing from making you choke any more.
“No, no, listen,” he was laughing a little bit through the teasing, “that’s five times every single day, including day one. That means on day one, you have to have sex five times. Is it five different guys, or maybe two times for one guy, three times for another one? Or — god, is it one guy, five times in one day? Isn’t that too much pressure?”
You couldn’t breathe. You were laughing that painful laugh that takes every ounce of your oxygen away from you and never gave you a moment to pause for an inhale. You might just die right here, teased to death because Kyungsoo found your condoms.
“You just met them! I mean, I know that you’re obviously a beautiful woman. I will admit that,” his hand was lifted to his chest as he spoke, “and it’s much easier for a woman, especially one like you, to get laid; but five times? bam-bam-bam-bam-bam,” his hands were up and he was hitting one off the other one, a visual representation of the insane amount of sex you were having in this hypothetical scenario he was describing and you were trying your absolute best to breathe through your laughter. You felt tears running down your face from it.
He wouldn’t quit, “Sex. Straight away. No names, no facts about them, no rest because there’s no time. Right from day one, just … fucking. And then you have to keep up that momentum. Every single day, five times. It’s insane! How would you have time for anything else? Do you eat? Sleep? Shower?”
You’d moved at that point in his speech. You had leapt toward him. You needed to end this once and for all. This was what you feared might happen. You were laughing too much at his ridiculous analysis of the logistics of you bringing twenty condoms with you to be able to speak at all, you simply moved closer to where he sat on the other side of this pot of noodles and you reached up for him with both of your hands. You needed to stop him. One of your hands landed over his open mouth and you covered it tightly, the other one you wrapped around his shoulders trying to give yourself some leverage to stop him from talking about it.
He lifted a hand and pulled yours down from his lips, managing to eke out another giggle and a few more words, “t-twenty c-condoms,” he managed to get out and you struggled to pull your hand free so you could cover his mouth again. He was shaking with his laughter and you squeezed as tightly as you could, finding yourself practically sitting in his lap in the efforts to silence him. If he died from this he deserved it.
“Shut up, shut up, oh my god, shut up,” you cried through the horrified giggles, squeezing him tighter to try and end everything embarrassing that was happening right now. You hardly even felt the other hand of his that wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him to keep you from falling into the hot noodles and burning yourself. It made your thighs part up high on his lap, right near his waist. The shorts you wore were so short you could feel the scratchiness of his jean shorts against your bare inner thighs. You could feel the warmth of him between your legs and you tried not to imagine how very tightly you were actually pressed up against his body, the warmth between your legs embracing the warmth of him. His grip around you was tight and this was probably only to keep you safe — the liability that you were, afterall.
You couldn’t have been the only one. There was just no way a single adult would come to something like this and not come prepared. When you managed to stop laughing enough to talk, you asked him.
“How many did you bring? And don’t lie to me and say you didn’t bring any.”
You released his mouth just so he could answer you and you watched his lips from up close as he licked them and opened his mouth to speak. You caught motion from his free hand and he held up his five fingers and his mouth silently spoke out the number.
“Five?” You flinched on top of him and his hand tightened around your waist, immediately pulling you back into him when you sagged away. You were slowly becoming more aware of how very close you were to him right now. The smallest shift of your hips and you would easily be straddling his waist. There was a growing humidity that built between the two of you where you connected with him here.
“Five,” he said with a slip of his eyes down on your lips, “a completely normal and reasonable pack of five.”
He bit down on his lips after the confession and you felt the muscles in his thighs below your ass shift, he wiggled just a little bit and with the wiggle you felt the slight change in how you sat on him. With that wiggle you could feel just a little more of his lap that you sat on and you could make out a definite flush in his cheeks, his ears, and the back of his neck. His lips in particular looked pinker when he bit down on them again and you struggled to pull your eyes up from them. You shouldn’t stare so long at his mouth. It brought up memories of the way he felt when he kissed you.
You could hardly make sense of his number though. You pulled your face back and shook your head in disbelief. You didn’t buy it.
“Just five?” You argued, “but — but what if you met the love of your life here and you’re both crazy about each other and wanted to just lock yourselves in a room for the whole week?”
He was giggling. You could feel it in his abdomen next to your inner thigh. Below your legs he felt firm and tense and his hand shifted as he adjusted his grip on you. His fingertips slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt and he felt even warmer than your burning skin felt that he now touched. His eyes were down on your lips again.
You couldn’t do this. You had to do something to stop this. This had crossed some sort of a line already.
“Well, maybe she’d be that one psychopath that brought twenty condoms with her.”
His words came out so quickly and they hit you like an electric shock.
The reality of this was back. It was an uncomfortable and dangerous feeling. It was splashing you in the face with cool water and you could feel the wrongness in it. This funny joke had gone too far. You saw it in his own severe reaction to what he had just said to you. He’d meant it as a joke, ultimately it had just been a funny joke.
After he spoke it, his lips flattened and the pinkness in his cheeks grew. His eyes which had been so playful suddenly dropped and he cleared his throat at the same time as you allowed gravity to take your balance and shift it away from him. His hand left your waist immediately and you scooted back and away from him, retreating to the other side of the noodles, off of his lap and out of his arms, where it was in your best interest to stay for good.
You had a renewed interest in your beer can. The brand was something local that you’d never had before and you read the back label from top to bottom without skipping a single word and without digesting a single word either. You could make out his movement from your peripheral vision and you heard the click and hiss of another beer can being opened, followed instantly by a second. It pulled your attention up from your own empty can and Kyungsoo was leaning forward with the beer in his hand for you to take, his flighty eyes not quite meeting yours except for the briefest of touches.
Without him perceiving you so closely you could feel yourself relaxing a little bit from the earlier humiliation and laughing fit turned inappropriate and stifling closeness that nearly suffocated you both with the unexplainable thickness of the air that had built up between the two of you.
Halfway through this beer Kyungsoo inhaled deeply, opened his mouth and asked you a silly question.
“Zombie invasion or Vampires?” he asked and you swallowed what was inside your mouth and looked into his face. He was looking down at his beer can absentmindedly while he clicked the tab with his thumb. It took you only a few seconds of thought and you shrugged, “Vampires, I guess.”
He nodded his head once and shrugged his face, “they’re only a problem at night,” he said in agreement. It was the same thought that you had about them. Zombies seemed like an all the time problem. Vampires would be solved with a curfew.
”Watching sports or playing sports?” You asked suddenly, figuring that this game involved taking turns. His eyes were lifted up into the air above his head and he pursed his lips, “playing sports, I guess.”
“Same.” You were nodding in agreement, finding sports on TV too boring to handle you much more enjoyed playing them even if you were never really great at any one sport in particular.
“Singing or Dancing?” It was his turn to ask.
You really enjoyed singing when you were alone, but you weren’t the kind of person to be able to do it in front of anyone. Still, if you had to pick one, you’d pick singing. You answered as such and his head ticked to the side with a cute eyebrow lift and a smile.
“Singing,” he said in agreement with you and you nodded your head, hoping he wouldn’t expect you to actually be any good at it. This was about enjoyment, not talent.
“Win the lottery or find your soulmate?” This one had him thinking. He had been such a crazy person while playing Monopoly you figured he would pick the money but after a few minutes of thought he shrugged and took a sip of his beer giving a soft “soulmate,” as his answer.
“Ohhhh, I didn’t expect that from you.” You teased and you swallowed more of your beer emptying the can completely as he watched your face for a few moments, probably expecting you to answer this one. You only nodded your head as a response. He lifted his eyebrows in question and you nodded again, confirming without words that you had the same response as he did. It was kind of spooky how many answers you both shared. Even weirder still that he understood what you were saying without you having to actually speak with him. It was something you’d noticed during some of the cooking challenges, the odd unspoken communication that just came easy with him.
“Right or left?” He asked very suddenly with a wide smile and you lifted up your right hand, shouting “exterior!” proudly and instantly. His eyes widened and gave you a round of applause before he asked another question, “East or west?” This one didn’t work. You lifted your hand and scratched at your lip, avoiding his eyes and pointing a finger in some direction that you’d just picked at random.
“That’s South.” He shook his head and furrowed his brows, “boooo,” he jeered at you and you shrugged in a hopeless sort of way with a giggle. “It moves around,” you whined and he shook his head slowly at you. “It absolutely does not. You move, it stays where it is.”
The sound of the patio door opening startled you both and you turned to see Sara sheepishly peeking her head out through the opening.
“Oh, here you are. I thought I heard laughing,” she said in her sweet voice, “we’re just starting a movie marathon, do you both want to join?”
It sounded fun actually. You’d wondered how much longer you two could play this or that before running out of ideas and you were nodding your head enthusiastically, pushing yourself up to your feet before Kyungsoo even had a chance to register the question.
“Oh, uhh — alright,” he said softly as if he’s only just now realized that he had been spending all of this time with you alone, the enemy — out of what, pure love for ramen? Need for fresh air and a distraction from the tedium? There was a movie marathon happening now, that was real entertainment. Not just a crazy girl who he could make fun of for packing way too many condoms for a 5-day trip, who doesn’t know directions, and who does awful things to him like call him mean names, attack his ribs because that’s where he’s the most ticklish, tries to suffocate him any chance she gets, and does terrible awful things to his toothbrush.
You were already cleaning up the space and gathering trash and used utensils to bring inside. Kyungsoo was only now standing up and picking up the last few beer cans and the remains of the delicious ramen he had made for you.
Inside of the kitchen the others had brought over some spare mattresses and pillows and laid them all out on the floor — they had turned out the lights and they were projecting a movie on the big blank wall.
It was something you hadn’t ever seen before, something grand and epic with a large sweeping universe, action, adventure and romance all in one. It honestly felt perfect for a movie marathon.
You could smell the microwave popcorn and you already had a cold beer waiting for you on one of the floor mattresses. You had a pile of pillows at your back and someone, god bless them, had gone into your room and brought your lovely winner’s blanket.
You eyed the rest of the group as they settled down in spots around the space, specifically leaving the space right beside you open for Kyungsoo. You noticed a cold beer next to his side as well. Normally you’d have gone out of your way to find another spot to sit. Or even drag a big heavy mattress over to use instead of having to share the same one with him. But now the movie was starting and there was really not enough time for all of that. You scooted closest to the edge of this mattress and out of your peripheral vision you saw him come up to the other side of this mattress and he sunk down into it, grabbing the beer and sitting a lot further away from the edge than you had done.
He wasn’t going out of his way to put as much space between the two of you as you had been. The lights were out and the movie began playing and soon this sitting at the very edge of this thing was becoming a bit too uncomfortable so you scooted yourself just a little bit closer to where he sat.
When you scooted though, you could suddenly feel the warmth of his thigh next to yours and as you adjusted you leaned against some of the pillows propped up behind your back, finding a bit more support when you leaned just slightly against his arm. You’d pulled your blanket up over your legs and pretended not to notice when his hand pulled the blanket over his legs too.
The movies were long and involved. Occasionally your mind would drift too far from the plot and the small whispered questions like, “wait, who is that guy again?” Would be met with whispered responses, “that’s the admiral’s son,” and your follow up realizations like, “ohh my god that’s why he’s being hunted,” got a white little hum as a response from him.
While you tried your best not to interrupt his movie watching experience you felt strangely comfortable asking him every single question that popped into your head and based on his calm responses you didn’t think he even minded it all that much.
The movie gave you whiplash though. It was quick with the surprises and it had reached a point when you’d already jumped four times from the dramatic twists and turns and you could feel some very real danger for the main hero when he found himself down in a dark pit, seemingly at the end of his luck. You could feel a creepy crawling sensation slipping up your back when you first saw them; it was spiders. Spiders. You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach and you felt your breath feel sticky in your heavy lungs. There were so many. You were gasping. You were desperate for air but your lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Hundreds. Thousands of enormous, hairy spiders with thousands of legs and fangs; the sounds of their skittering feet and chomping jaws — the rooms filled with their webs, and human sized bodies trapped in those webs, wrapped up and wriggling and screaming. You felt your hands shaking and you had to close your eyes. You couldn't breathe. You couldn’t stop it. You were going to die right here without oxygen. You couldn’t stop it. You could feel their legs crawling all over your skin and you could feel their fangs sinking down into your skin. Ripping out chunks of your flesh. Burrowing under your skin. You had to dip your head down under the blanket and you were trembling all over and you couldn’t breathe.
“Hey,” you heard his low voice whisper out into your ear over the sound of the screaming, “hey, hey. Shh… you’re okay.” He was talking to you. You felt his arms rubbing over your back, you felt his arms wrap around your shoulders and he was rubbing you up and down in long slow pressured passes over your skin, shushing into your ear and willing you to calm down with the warmth of his cheek pressed up against your cheek.
“Shhh…They’re not real.”
“They can’t hurt you.”
“You are safe here.”
“You’re okay, honey, you’re alright.”
“Breathe in slowly,” he mentored the deep and slow breaths he urged you to take. You felt the slow rise of his chest as he did it. You gasped and your lungs stuttered as you tried to copy him.
“And out, slowly.” You felt the slow exhale he let out. He was so close, his breath warmed your face.
It took a long while. Your breathing was the first to begin to settle.
You’d lifted your face from where you’d been hiding against his chest and you found that you had been crying. It took you a few deep breaths to get your breathing to actually start to settle down and his words began to really sink in. You’d had some sort of a panic attack at the thought of all of those spiders and you must have been so stressed out lately being here with all of those bugs around you constantly, you’d simply lost your touch with reality for a moment.
“A-Are they gone yet?” You had it under control. You understood what had happened and you simply lost your mind for a short while but he brought you back. It was just panic. It happened occasionally and on those rare times when it took you over so completely, it took you hours to finally calm down. But here, here with him; he had been so quick to understand what was happening and he had been so steady and strong with his words and his distracting comfort. You felt taken aback and stunned.
It took him a few moments to lift his head out of the blanket and when he came back to you he gave you the smallest squeeze on your hand that he was holding and you knew it was over.
“They are gone,” he leaned his forehead against yours under this blanket and whispered the answer to your question.
“T-Thank you,” you whispered and you wiped your face with the back of your hand. You felt the small hum from his chest as a response and you held your breath when you felt the soft pads of his thumbs wiping the wetness from your cheeks. You felt like a mess. What a ridiculous human being you were. Unable to handle a little bit of fake spiders in a fake movie, you felt like an idiot. The shame from this was next to flood through your body and you whispered out a quiet word to him, “sorry.”
You felt his head shaking back and forth and he had already pulled both of your heads out from under the blanket that was quickly growing stuffy from the heat from both of your bodies.
“Don’t be. You’re fine.” He said it in such a matter of fact way, it felt so very true and finite. Don’t be sorry. You are fine. Then he squeezed down harder on your hand which he still held down somewhere under this blanket.
He wasn't letting you go. Was this just you being a liability again? Was he trying to keep you from weeping and screaming and causing a scene? You felt so caught off guard and nervous with him holding your hand like this that you felt too scared to move.
This fucking movie though, the whiplash continued because in front of you now, unfolded a sensual romantic scene. With you and Kyungsoo sharing this blanket with you on the same mattress and with your hand held tightly within his own, his fingers intertwined now within yours and the heavy weight of his bare knee resting atop of your bare thigh. They were kissing now. He had just walked in on her in the shower and he had shoved her roughly against the marble wall of the fancy hotel room and his hands moved to cup her bare breasts. The camera zoomed in on her nipples and his hands roughly gripped her ass. You stared ahead with your teeth biting down hard on your own lips when you felt the loosening of Kyungsoo’s hand as he straightened his posture and cleared his throat, and unwound your fingers from his fingers, your hand from his hand, he unceremoniously dropped you entirely and pulled his own hands together securely onto his own lap.
You felt oddly slighted but the scene had been too close to your first kiss with him for either of you to withstand.
The pair on the screen were fucking on a bed now. Seeing the quick progression of the love scene made you slightly thankful that he had let go of your hand when he did, even if you did feel a strange twinge in your throat for having been dropped like a hot potato by the man, his timing was spot on.
The second movie had finished. This was a trilogy and you’d all been watching this for hours now. You felt the need to get up and move your body some as a few of the others had done throughout the film.
You’d managed to untangle yourself from the blanket. Kyungsoo didn’t move when you left. He had taken on a more relaxed posture on the blankets and only the very slight reflection of the screen on his eyes gave you any indication that he was awake. But now when you looked at him, you no longer saw the reflection. His eyes seemed to be closed. You’d woken him up so early this morning; already it felt like ages ago.
In the back of this big room you caught sigh of Sara who had been pacing with an odd posture. You noticed she hadn’t laid down much on the mattresses during the films and she had opted for sitting up in a chair. She’d mentioned with a smile that if she got all the way down there she might not be able to get back up. Still, she was no longer seated but just doing slow and careful walking exercises here in the far back wall.
She caught your motion to join her and her shoulders straightened out as she greeted you with a smile. You noticed her hand fell down from where she had been touching her belly. Her smile was so bright that you figured she had just been absentmindedly touching her baby rather than feeling any sorts of discomfort.
“Are you here to join me in my walks?” She reached for you and linked elbows with you the moment you were within touching distance and you giggled beside this sweet woman and fell into step beside her.
You both took several slow and steady steps in a big lazy circle around the large open space. After a few moments of walking she squeezed a hand around your forearm and giggled into your ear beside you. “Has he kissed you yet?”
Always straight and to the point. You looked into her face with wide eyes and you could feel the heat filling your cheeks with the answer basically broadcasted with your reaction and her smiled widened further with the quiet little yelp of excitement that erupted from her chest.
“But he didn’t mean it,” you said in a whisper. She was still smiling and she nodded her head up and down, “Sara, he was just drunk.” She was giggling with her hand covering her mouth to keep her volume down.
“Oh psshh…” she waved a dismissive hand. “They never mean it,” she whispered, “until they do,” she added with a slow rub over her belly and a wild giggle and you gasped scandalously and tapped her arm to get her to cut that out. Your wordless denials had absolutely no effect on her. She had long ago left reality and now resided deep in la-la land.
“I am so serious,” she whispered with her head dipped down beside your face, “you don’t see the way he looks at you — no, the way he stares at you. If I didn’t know for the fact that he was terribly, hopelessly,” she inhaled and leaned into the dramatics with a suggestive whispered groan, “desperately in love with you, I’d think he was trying to set you on fire with his eyes.”
She lifted her head and touched the tip of her index finger to her chin, “actually I think it might be that too. He wants you to burn for him the way he burns for you. Gahhhhhh—” she was squealing again. You had to shush her to remind her to keep her voice down. Strangely she quit squealing quite abruptly and her hand was touching over her belly again with the smallest gasp.
This couldn’t have been a coincidence, you’d seen her touching her belly many times at this point with a sort of pensive look in her eyes.
“Sara, are you okay? What’s happening?”
Her mouth was shaped into an o and she exhaled slowly through her mouth.
“Just, normal aches and pains involved with growing a person inside of your body. It’ll pass,” she was assuring you of this but you couldn’t help but notice the light sheen of sweat that covered her forehead.
“Come sit down,” you pulled lightly on her arm, urging her to relax now but she pulled you back.
“The walking helps,” she said with her eyebrows furrowed together and her slow and steady exhale leaving her chest in a purposeful rhythm.
You felt a surge of worry with the realization that you had been watching her walking in slow and steady circles for the better part of three hours now. The walking helps, helps with what? Was she in labor?
“How long are the pauses in between?”
“It was — hours but they’re getting closer. It’s probably nothing,” her smile was back. She’d straightened out her shoulders and shrugged lightly, as if having a baby right now in the wake of a strong hurricane while not in a hospital was no big deal at all.
“We have to tell someone,” you said, moving through the large space of this industrial kitchen until you reached the space where the movie was playing. You found a sleeping Javier and a groggy Mr. Chen who noticed your movement. You kneeled down and whispered into his ear. He caught the important words, namely ‘Sara’ and ‘baby,’ and he was standing up instantly, tapping Javier roughly on the arm who woke up with a start.
“Javier, get up. Your wife is in labor. I have to call her sister. Oh my god, I’m going to be an uncle.”
Wife? Javier and Sara are married to each other? Uncle? Were all of these people part of the same family? The words came at shock to you and their quick movement woke Kyungsoo who sat up and rubbed his eyes.
The movie was turned off. There was a flurry of activity and movement and Mr. Chen and Javier were arguing with an impossibly stubborn pregnant woman who was so clearly in labor that she had to pause every ten minutes for breathing exercises before she would continue with her denials.
“I just don’t want to miss them,” she whined with a deep frown on her face and she motioned toward where you and Kyungsoo stood, “they got so close, it almost happened. And you’re telling me I can’t just cross my legs and go later? I think I can hold it.”
Sara was crying. She was irrationally invested in You and Kyungsoo’s story and she was in pain.
You assured her that there was nothing important here that she was going to miss and she needed to go with Mr. Chen and Javier now. She needed to go meet her new baby. They were headed to the hospital. Mr. Chen assured us that he was an expert at navigating the treacherous weather worn and flooded roads of this island and he would deliver her there safely. He even promised to return tomorrow as soon as he was able to and Kyungsoo got everyone’s phone number so they could send updates.
The big heavy door to the front of the building closed shut tight with a heavy bang and you found yourself standing in absolute silence opposite an equally quiet Kyungsoo. For the first time since you’d met him you were really completely and undeniably alone with the man who — against every single desperate and gasping breath and scream as evidence of your stubborn denial — alone with the man who you were in love with.
Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
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youzicha · 2 days
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Simulacra, Simulation, and Girls' Generation
That take that "anime girls don’t correspond to anything" reminded me of one of my own pet theories, which is that the same is true about Kpop groups.
Groups like Girls' Generation are like the opposite of American singer-songwriters. The singer-songwriter's core value is authenticity. Their songs are taken to be autobiographical, and to be valuable because they are a true description of the emotions that the songwriter felt. The singer-writer must be a single person so we can be sure that nobody has tampered with the depiction before it reaches us. This is Baudrillard's "first order" image, we in the audience should believe that the song is "the reflection of a profound reality".
With the kpop groups, what we enjoy is that the song does not represent any underlying reality. Each music video is the impersonal product of songwriters, producers, choreographers, stylists, video directors, etc. Rather than a spontaneous expression, you can see the moves being developed in the behind-the-scenes dance practice videos. The online discourse emphasizes the role of the entertainment agency (e.g. SM Entertainment): the group members themselves do not have "agency" so we can be confident that their own emotions didn't make it into the love songs they sing.
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Let’s look at the music video for Oh! (2010) to see how this plays out. It's like a game of dress-up, showing off two different cheerleader uniforms. Argumate once wrote that Girls' Generation perform "a detailed sequence of dance moves that are very 'sexy', i.e. strongly coded as suggesting sexiness without necessarily being sexy-without-quotes", and I think we can say something similar about cheerleader outfits. They are not there to convey a message or story (and as if to stress the arbitrariness, the last few seconds of the video show the girls dressed in a completely different "strong woman" style, to tease the upcoming next look). Rather, the "sexy cheerleader" is itself a stylized, free-floating signifier to be quoted. "The whole system becomes weightless … an uninterrupted circuit without reference or circumference." (Although I believe it is still possible to overcome the ironic stance.)
So far everything is straightforward, but now consider the lyrics:
Oppa please see me, please look at me It's the first time I talk like this (ha!) I did my hair and I did my makeup too But why is it only you who doesn't know? […] Don't think of me just like a little sister You might regret that after a year
I claim that this also works in the opposite direction to the normal mode of storytelling. When creating a movie or play, the auteur-director starts with an idea or a story, and then casts actors to best represent his vision. Or, if that is not what it in fact took place, it is still the convention the viewer is supposed to apply to interpret the work. But with an idol music video, the starting point is the singer, who already has a fanbase. "Please see me, please look at me"—well, we already were. (This is not the only Girls' Generation song about looking at the idol, by the way, compare e.g. The Boys, which begins "I can tell you're looking at me / I know what you see".)
Given the opposite starting point, the representational function of the lyrics changes correspondingly. Rather than focusing on the new fictional person who emerges ex nihilo, the fan's attention is still on the singer, and the "little sister" character is yet another stock signifier for them to bring out and put on, much like the uniform. The function of the story is erasure: there was in fact a hairdresser and a makeup artist who styled Yuri, but instead we're invited to project a different fantasy over her. The effect is to further stress the unreality of all the symbols involved.
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With this in mind, I think one Girls' Generation song has a really interesting concept for the lyrics. In Paparazzi (2012) the idol looks out across the crowds, spots a photographer who is trying to be discreet, and speaks directly to him: "shall I give you a better photo? let's be friendly, after all aren't we allies?"
It re-establishes the inauthenticity and unreality of the idol! As time goes by, pesky reality intrudes. People will follow the individual group members devotedly, and there are paparazzi images of them. Members will capitalize on their fame through individual brand endorsement deals. There is the perennial problem of girl group girls getting boyfriends, jarringly peeking out as an actual human being from behind the illusion. Or in the extreme case they can even use their new independent existence to leave the group.
In Paparazzi, those candid photos are re-imagined as performance. And furthermore, just like in Oh! we are invited to imagine a fictional character speaking directly to us. But in this case the character is superimposed not just over the image from the music video, but also over all the already existing photos. The actual person of the idol is crowded out by the fantasy…
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scotianostra · 3 days
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The Scottish actor David McCallum was born on 19th September 1933.
Born as David Keith McCallum, Jr in Maryhill, Glasgow, the second of two sons of Dorothy Dorman, a cellist, and orchestral violinist David McCallum Sr. When he was three, his family moved to London for his father to play as concertmaster in the London Philharmonic Orchestra. Early in the Second World War, he was evacuated back to Scotland, where he lived with his mother at Gartocharn by Loch Lomond.
McCallum won a scholarship to University College School, a boys’ independent school in Hampstead, London, where, encouraged by his parents to prepare for a career in music, he played the oboe.In 1946 he began doing boy voices for the BBC radio repertory company. Also involved in local amateur drama, at age 17, he appeared as Oberon in an open-air production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream with the Play and Pageant Union. He left school at age 18 and was conscripted, joining the 3rd Battalion the Middlesex Regiment, which was seconded to the Royal West African Frontier Force.In March 1954 he was promoted to Lieutenant. After leaving the army he attended the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (also in London), where Joan Collins was a classmate.
David McCallum’s acting career has spanned six decades; however, these days he is best known for his starring role on the police procedural NCIS as medical examiner as Dr. Donald “Ducky” Mallard. I first really remember McCallum for his role in another US show, The Invisible Man which ran for 13 episodes in the 70’s. McCallum by then was a veteran of many TV and Film roles, starting in the 50’s including Our Mutual Friend and The Eustace Diamonds, in the 60’s he was in several ITV Playhouse shows before moving across the Atlantic to take roles in The Outer Limits and his big break as Illya Kuryakin in several incantations of The Man from Uncle.
His most notable films were The Greatest Story Ever Told as Judas Iscariot and of course Ashley-Pitt ‘Dispersal’ in The Great Escape.
As well as the aforementioned Invisible Man in the 70’s he took time to pop back over to our shores to star in two quality series, as Flt. Lt. Simon Carter in Colditz and Alan Breck Stewart in an adaption of Robert Louis Stevenson’s, Kidnapped.
The 80’s saw him team up with the lovely Joanna Lumley in Sapphire & Steel and several guest roles in the likes of The A Team, Hart to Hart and Murder, She Wrote as well as a one off reprise of Illya in the TV movie The Return of the Man from U.N.C.L.E.: The Fifteen Years Later Affair.
The 90’s saw David in Cluedo and Trainer on our TV screens over here and American science-fiction series VR-5 in the states..
During the last 20 years or so he has been in the kids TV show, Ben 10: Omniverse as the voice of Professor Paradox and of course Donald Horatio “Ducky” Mallard in a remarkable  436 episodes of the popular NCIS.
David has been married twice. He married his first wife Jill Ireland in 1957. They met on the set of the movie Hell Drivers. Together, they had two sons and a daughter, Paul, Jason and Valentine, with Jason being the only one who was adopted. In 1963, David introduced Jill to his co-star on The Great Escape, Charles Bronson, and she left David and married Charles in 1968. In 1967,
David McCallum passed away aged 90 on September 23rd last year, he is survived by his wife of 56 years, Katherine McCallum, his sons Paul McCallum, Valentine McCallum and Peter McCallum, his daughter Sophie McCallum and his eight grandchildren. NCIS paid tribute to him in an episode called The Stories We Leave Behind when the tagents find comfort in working on one of his unfinished cases. The episode features clips from several old shows.
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labor-management relations in state and local governments (1975) - united states bureau of the census
“happy cocktober”
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minakoaiinos · 6 months
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#my favorite on first listen#i need to go back through the whole thing again but 95% of the time the album does exactly what it should#in terms of sounding like a txt album and doing the kind of experimental stuff a minisode should do#as a whole i like it and the aesthetic better than the last album#however i think the killa shouldn't have made it to the album idc#literally two days ago people were saying a zionist was involved in producing it and now it's all yayyy ~sex~ song#like it sounds generic and it doesn't go with the plot of the album and soobin has literally talked before about being oversexualized...#...making him uncomfortable and everyone just ignores stuff like that bc everyone acts like the second you don't make a idol sexy the...#...second they 'turn legal' that they're 'grown ass men' you're infantilizing#like. idk how to explain to you how annoying it is just to define being an adult by having sex like it's not universal 😭#i don't even mean to say this in some kind of puritan censorship kind of way it's just annoying to view adulthood just as sex time?#especially in this situation this is his job 😭 he's at work 😭#and everyone being like but this song sounds gay 🥺 well a zionist produced it i'm so glad you have moral standards#it isn't inherently infantilizing to not talk about sex or to not have sex either that's such an annoying marker of adulthood#and this little prince concept is so unique and interesting just to toss in a generic ass song#like stick to what makes txt unique and stop trying to make broad appeal music#they took me out with all of the bad collaborations last year like just stooooppp#especially when you hear members say they only get to make music that's their own personal taste sometimes like let them have more voice!!!!#anyway 😭#music
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moonmoonthecrabking · 2 years
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Absolutely patting myself on the back for the bullshit trio concept, no shame whatsoever! But I’d love to hear your thoughts on who’s team up with who, if you don’t mind sharing ☺️
hi thanks for this ask!!!!! yes absolutely adore your bullshit trio concept and your take is so mega valid!!!! i do however have a couple of differences but i also disagree with myself soooooo :)
Version #1
mischa: constance and ricky (my beloved favourite trio)
constance: mischa and noel
ocean: noel and penny
noel: constance and ocean
ricky: penny and ocean
penny: ricky and mischa
Version #2
mischa: constance and ricky (a constant for me)
constance: mischa and ricky
ocean: constance and penny
noel: penny and ocean
ricky: mischa and constance
penny: ricky and noel
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often-daydreaming · 4 months
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Here's a prompt.
Thanks to an overprotective Fright Knight shadowing him all the time Danny has a reputation similar to Alastor (The Radio Demon). Now Danny isn't aware of any of it since the only reason he's even visiting Gotham is to check in on Jazz and maybe drop off some of their dad's fudge but it's still Gotham and Fright Knight is working overtime after realizing there were way too many threats to the young prince/king gathered in a single city but back to the Radio Demon part of the prompt.
Danny gets clocked as something odd from the very beginning but nobody really cares. He's just another meta, a nobody that was easily dismissed until some of the local criminals operating around Jazz's apartment vanished. That one mugger who thought about going after Danny is just gone. The pickpocket who thought he was an easy target is nowhere to be found and it just kind of snowballs from there with little things adding up over time until finally rumors start flying around about a supervillain going missing. I'm using Scarecrow as an example but it could be anybody really with one or two rumors joking about the new meta being behind all of the disappearances since a street kid swears they saw Danny getting gassed during one of Scarecrow's attacks. Then Bane goes missing too and there're even more rumors about Danny being involved somehow and it only gets worse when he's seen talking with Mr. Freeze just hours before the man and his wife disappear. The street kids start thinking he's something supernatural. The thugs and goons swear Danny's some sort of demon. The working girls share stories about how a simple deal with him could change your life. The supervillains are slowly growing terrified because if you're unlucky enough to hear it then sometimes late at night when he's out for a walk an old TV or a nearby car radio will suddenly broadcast the sounds of someone screaming.
Danny isn't aware of any of it though because he's listening to music during his walks and other than helping a few people here and there he hasn't really had to go ghost for anything whenever he's visiting Jazz. Fright Knight is the one going around tagging any sort of potential threat with Soul Shredder and even he's baffled about some random radio being able to tap into his pocket dimension for a few seconds every other night.
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elssero · 1 month
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seven minutes in… heaven?
k.bakugo
♰ nsfw/suggestive, third year bakugo x f!reader, dry humping..? both characters are drunk but fully consent!
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evanescence blasts through your phone as you do the final finishing details of your makeup, your cutting the crease of your liner while jirou sat next to you clips some of her hair back with the little music note hair piece you had picked up for her last week. your excited for tonight, it’s been awhile since the whole class of 3A had gotten together like this.
it’s a celebratory party for the end of a month long project you had all been putting all of your time and effort into, so much so to the point that nobody had really spent any time together, so to say that everyone was bubbling with anticipation was an understatement.
well everyone except bakugo of course, according to jirou he had been grumbling all week about this stupid party and how he’s being forced to go by stupid kirishima because of some stupid bet he lost last month. apparently he’d much rather stay in his room all night and pop a couple sleeping pills to ensure he wasn’t involved in the the night at all.
he just hates parties, he doesn’t understand why something so small as finishing a project deserves an entire class get together. he would much rather have a small, controlled hang out with the close group of friends he’d found himself growing fond of over the past few years.
you, of course ignore his complaints because the only word to describe how your feeling right now is ecstatic, it’s no surprise to anyone that you loved a good party and seeing that you had worked extra hard on this particular project you felt as though you owed it to yourself to let a little loose.
after deciding you are completely happy with the way you look and having taken a shot of some pre-drink with jirou, you link the girls arm and leave your dorm, you make your way to the common room arm and arm with the increasingly nervous girl beside you, you whisper a few encouraging words as you continue to lead her to, you can see that people have already started gathering, drinks in hand.
you decide for jirous sake to make a b-line to mina, kaminari and sero who are slumped together on one of the couches around the room.
mina wastes no time pulling you both into a hug “you both look amazing! ah- i can’t im so excited we’re all here tonight!” you can tell she’s already tipsy by the way she slightly stutters and her voice raises at the end of her sentences.
you hug her back just as excitedly, you love mina, she shares your excitement for the little things and you can’t help but feel drawn to her because of that, it’s clear to everyone around you that you two were just made to be friends.
kami gets up next, he throws a lazy arm around jirous shoulder and compliments you both on your outfits of choice, you can’t help but chuckle a little at his behaviour, he’s always been a bit of flirt, especially with jirou, you can’t help but smile at the sight when jirou leans into his hold slightly.
sero, now stood directly in front of you pulls you into tight hug, seros a close friend, if anything probably your closest after mina and jirou and definitely the person your physically closest with. he is your friend and definitely only that, despite the looks that your weirdly physically close relationship gets from your classmates, but the line at least in your head is definitely drawn and you don’t dare cross it.
you mingle for abit, finishing off your first drink and eagerly getting your second, your sat in a circle now with most of your class, some sat on the floor and some sat on furniture, you’ve somehow ended up in a full class discussion despite the buzz that fills the room. your listening to the class debate their most embarrassing moments when a loud but cheery voice drags another loud but not so cheery voice into the room.
“hey everyone! sorry we’re late it seems that bakugo had forgotten about tonight” kirishima grins as bakugo starts mumbling incoherent complaints. “but alas, no worries as i made sure to remind him!” kirishima continues to ignore bakugos clearly sour mood as he pulls the blond to sit across from you and sero, who’s now drunken head is now resting on your shoulder, they would definitely be sat next to you guys but kirishima doesn’t wish to disturb the circle so he takes the only free place.
people exclaim welcomes as you smile at the red head, he sends a smile back and a quick look at sero who seems to be making himself pretty comfortable pressed up against you. bakugo doesn’t even lift his head while he sits down, it’s clear he wishes for this party to be over just as quickly as it can start.
“let’s play a game!” it comes from uraraka in the corner as she leans into the center of the circle to get everyone’s attention. “oh yeah? what do you suppose we play?” midoriya this time, slurring, who’s clearly a little drunker than he should be seeing as your only an hour or so into the get together. denki cheers out in the corner and catches everyone’s attention as he quickly finishes his beer and places it in the middle of the circle. “we’re playing seven minutes in heaven.” a wide smirk on his face as he watches everyone agree, you’d maybe think he’d be suggesting this is a way for him to get some but you disagree, you know kami lives for drama and a game like this is surely to brew some up.
people settle into positions and sero finally raises his head from the crook of your neck, you know he’s a merchant of drama and he seems to agree this some in definitely incoming as he awaits the first spin.
tsu goes first as peer pressured by her friends and lands on uraraka, you see a small blush appear on the brunettes features and you wish them good luck as mina shuts the closet door behind them, your all warily keeping it down a little, making little jabs at one another and chuckle quietly, you hear a giggle from the closest and you all burst into laughter, unable to keep quiet anymore as you let the girls finish their 7 minutes.
your unable to remember who goes next but it was surely insignificant, you can feel the alcohol now at your forgetfulness, you join conversation with your friends and await the next spin as the pair who you now see is momo and shinsou leave the closet calmly, it’s clear to everyone that nothing of interest happened which only proves a suspicion you’ve had about momo for awhile, whatever though it’s not your business.
very suddenly and very much to your surprise mina edges you forward to spin the bottle next, your not really sure why, it’s not like your dying to get some, infact your doing pretty well for yourself so her eagerness for you to spin next is unidentifiable to you but alas you don’t argue and you shift, almost crawling on all floors to reach the bottle and spin it harshly, watching as it continues to go round and round.
when it’s completely slowed down you follow the tip of the bottle and realise it’s pointing directly in front of you, you continue to look up and you lock eyes with a shocked pair of red ones. without thinking you stand up and hold a want out too him to help him up. he looks up at you in only complete shock as he grits out “i’m not fuckin’ doing this shit, didn’t fuckin agree to it” you don’t falter, now used to his attitude “what are you scared bakugo? the great katsuki bakugo scared of seven minutes alone with me?”
he gapes at you, jaw dropped and he falters for a second. maybe he is scared. he contemplates for a second before grabbing your hand and letting you help him up, he follows as you guide him into the closet and shut the door behind you.
he huffs at the proximity between you, he’s always been huge but the past few months you can tell he’s been bulking up even more, if that’s even possible. there’s barely enough space for the two of you, your tits are slightly pushed up against him as your back hugs the wall of the closet.
“we don’t have to do anything” you whisper out, slightly slurred due to your drink intake. “we can just chill in here if you’d rather that.” he doesn’t respond and you take a moment to observe him, his cheeks are flushed, either due to the lack of space between the two of you of the alcohol, it’s probably both.
“well it’s not like you can do anything anyway” he spits out and you give him a puzzled look “what do you mean i can’t do anything? you think m’ allergic to kissing people or something?” he chuckles slightly at that, you feel a little twinge of pride, you’ve always been able to do that, draw small chuckles out of the man in front of you. you’ve been able to lock down on what draws it out of him and being mouthy certainly seems to do the trick.
“na… y’know your with tape arms and stuff dno’ why you even came in here with me, dno’ why you even spinned that bottle” now it’s your turn to chuckle at him, did he seriously believe that you and sero were together? like an actual item? did other people believe that too? you swore up and down you’d made it very clear that was not the case. “me and sero are definitely not together” you giggle slightly as you say it, he doesn’t respond so you continue “he’s a very close friend of mine and i know we’re a little touchy but we’re definitely not seeing each other” his eyes seem to dart up to you as you finish your sentence, the words clearly settling in.
“why do you guys act like that them?” he sounds almost… defected? it’s a tone you can’t quite figure out. “m’ not sure, it just kinda happened one day and became the norm for us i guess” he lets out a slight hum and you settle into silence briefly before he speaks. “so why-” he cuts himself off, cursing quietly before continuing “so why did you come in here with me?” he gets quieter as he continues to speak, he’s nervous. that much is entirely obvious to you even in your drunken state. you look him in the eyes when you answer him this time “well what usually happens when you entire a closet with someone during this game bakugo?” his breath seems to quicken at this and you feel his chest moving faster against your own, quickly reminding you of the contact between you two as you glance down at your tits still pushed against his chest, the sight sets a blush across your cheeks, bakugos eyes seem to follow yours as an even bigger red blush appears across his face.
“i already said before that we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want too, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want too.” you explain it too him calmly, you are not inexperienced, not in the slightest but though his actions it’s telling that bakugo may be- giving you the upper hand.
“no-“ he ushers it out quickly “no- i think- i think i want too” you watch as his blush deepens even more, it’s cute you think, nothing like how he usually is, you quite like him like this.
you take this as an opportunity to lift your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you, you stop as his lips are hovering slightly above your own. “you gotta let me know if you want me to stop” he nods quickly and you take that as confirmation, you take a tight grip on his hair and force his lips down to meet your own, he immediately groans at the impact, rushing to place heavy hands on the side of your waist, wasting no time as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.
your forcing your tongue down his throat and he groans again, you immediately feel him already against your thigh and you wonder how long he’s been hard like that. he kisses you like he’s starved, attempting to push himself even closer to you, it appears he’s fighting for dominance until you pull slightly on his hair and he melts into you with another noise bubbling in his throat- a whine almost exhales him and in that moment you decide your pulling a proper whine from him that night, it might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.
far too suddenly for your liking the door swings open, revealing to your entire class the compromising position you and bakugo are in, he nearly screams at the suddenly light shining in his eyes. you make eye connect with mina and her jaw drops. bakugo immediately disconnects with you and you find yourself missing his warmth. your bombarded with questions as bakugo takes your hand in his and rushes you both out the closet, ignoring the pleas from your classmates.
“party’s over for me shitty hair” bakugo shouts at kirishima, not even taking a glance in his direction as he storms you both, still hand in hand past the crowd of your classmates and towards the stairs. “you fuckers have a good time down here or whatever, we’re going up to bed.” he smirks at this, pulling you even faster through the hall.
“have a great night everyone!” you shout as you look back at your friends, they’re mouths gaping in complete shock, you send them a wink as you turn back to bakugo, speeding to catch up with him. happily following him up to his dorm. luckily for you, you’d turned around too quickly to see the defeated look on a certain black haired classmate of yours as he watches you be dragged even further away from him by a boy he knows has shared the same crush he’s had on you since your first year at ua.
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AHHHH BAKUGO FIC!!! i’m considering making this a little series because i can’t get seven minutes in heaven with the mha characters out of my head. not proofread yet so if there’s mistakes then there’s mistakes!
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whimsiwitchy · 29 days
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Controversially Young Girlfriend 
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Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 
series masterlist & main masterlist
summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 
warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 
warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33
authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3
Part one: breakup and new beginnings 
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Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 
Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 
By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 
Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 
Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 
-
“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 
“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 
“You’re right.” 
“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 
“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 
Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 
“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 
“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 
“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 
“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 
“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 
“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 
-
After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 
The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 
“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 
You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 
A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 
“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 
“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 
“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 
“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 
“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 
“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 
“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 
“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 
“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 
“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 
“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 
“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 
“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 
“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 
“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 
The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 
-
Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 
Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 
The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 
While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 
Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)
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Thank you for reading <3
part two
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bsturnzmtt · 28 days
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Can you write a fic that Matt and yn were not getting along at first but they get drunk have sex. During it Matt gets too rough and yn have to use her safe word so Matt give her plenty of aftercare PLEASE IM ON MY KNEES BEGGINGGGG🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼(involve stomach bulging🤭🙈)
Blurred desires - Matt Sturniolo
Enemies to lovers
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Paring: rough dom!Matt x sub!Reader
Contains/warnings: rough sex, stomach bulge, drunk sex, usage of safe word, overstimulation, spanking, pussy slaps, edging, pet names, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, cnc, after care. More stuff. Tell me if I missed something
Summary: You stumble across your enemy, Matt Sturniolo at a party. What happens when you two are drunk and there’s some tension between you guys?
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Matthew Sturniolo. Your worst enemy. He made your life impossible since the moment you two met. You never understand why, but after a while, you got tired of trying to understand so you just gave him the same attitude he gave you. Unfortunately you had to see him on a regular basis because you’re best friends with his brothers Nick and Chris.
Nick and Chris have been talking about this party they are going to on Friday for like three days in a row. Today, Thursday they are convincing begging you to come also.
“Come onnnn y/n it’s going to be so fun!” Nick says, trying to persuade you.
“Yessss there’s gonna be alcohol, many people, many friends” Chris adds.
“Okay okay! I’ll go!” You say laughing.
“Yayyy that’s great!” Nick says excitedly.
“Do you want us to pick you up tomorrow?” Chris asks.
“Ummm no it's fine, I'll just uber. Plus I don't think Matt will like the idea of picking me up if he’s the one driving.” You say laughing.
“He’s an asshole, just ignore him.” Nick says.
“Yeah I know. But I still prefer to uber, just text me the address.” You respond.
Next day. Friday…
You are almost ready for the party and your Uber is 3 minutes away. You add some finishing touches to your makeup and brush your hair one last time. You straighten up your dress and take one last glance in the mirror before heading to the uber. After 15 minutes of boring traffic you got to the party. You pay the uber and get out of the car. You decided to text Nick and Chris before entering the party.
“Hey guys I’m here” you text them. And start walking towards the door. You opened the door and you felt the music blasting and colorful lights everywhere. You walk through some people until you see Nick and Chris waving at you. You walk to them and of course Matt is with them.
“Hey girl! You made it!” Nick says hugging you.
“Hiiii” you say and hug him back for a few seconds then you go to greet Chris who was talking to Matt.
“Hey Chris!” You say.
Chris turns around. “Hey y/n!” Chris says.
After that you make eye contact with Matt for a few seconds. Matt just stares at you with a blank expression, but he doesn’t say anything. He just keeps staring for a couple seconds before turning back around to talk to Chris again. You decide to ignore Matt and not let him ruin your night out with friends.
You see many of your girl friends by the bar so you decide to go there to say hi and also get some drinks. As the night goes on you got drinks after drinks, shots after shots. Most of the night you stayed with your girl friends dancing and drinking. While drunkenly dancing on the dance floor, with the corner of your eye you spy ‘Nick’ getting a drink at the bar. So you decide to approach him not knowing you are confusing him with his triplet brother Matt.
You walk to him. “Oh my god Nick. Literally the cutest guy came up to me to ask me for my number!” You say slurring your words and grabbing him by his arm.
The person you're talking to slowly turns around, and it's not Nick, it's Matt. He looks at you and chuckles. "I'm not Nick," he says with a smirk. “Are you seriously that drunk?”
You roll your eyes as you realize it's Matt. “Ugh shut up I’m not drunk.” You say, still slurring your words as you take your hands off his arm.
Matt's grin widens, clearly amused by your drunken state. "Oh really? Because from where I'm standing, you seem pretty intoxicated." He steps closer to you, his voice lowering. "And you were just hanging all over me."
“First of all, I thought you were Nick. Secondly, you seem as drunk as I am.” You respond.
"Maybe," Matt says, leaning even closer, "but at least I can still form a coherent sentence." His eyes flicker to your lips briefly before meeting your gaze again. "You know, if you wanted to touch me, you could just ask."
“Ew, no. You wish.” You say rolling your eyes and taking a seat at the stool bar motioning the bartender for another drink.
Matt laughs heartily, enjoying your back-and-forth banter. "Keep telling yourself that," he says, leaning against the bar next to you. He flags down the bartender and orders another drink for himself, sliding it over to you instead. "On the house," he says mockingly.
You look at him. “Hm, what a gentleman.” You say sarcastically but still accept the drink. You grab the glass and take a long sip.
Matt grins mischievously, enjoying your snarky comebacks. "Gotta keep you hydrated," he says, his eyes glinting with amusement. He takes a swig of his own drink, his gaze never leaving yours. He tilts his head, considering you. "You know, you're different when you're drunk."
You frown your eyebrows and look at him. “What do you mean?” You ask.
"You're more... unguarded," Matt says, choosing his words carefully. "You're usually so cold and aloof around me. But now, you're actually talking to me without biting my head off." He smirks, taking another sip of his drink. "It's... interesting."
“Well I’m like that because most of the time you’re mean and annoying towards me. Right now you’re not being that annoying.” You respond.
Matt laughs, throwing his head back. "Fair enough," he says, turning to face you fully. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But for the record, I'm only mean to you because you're so easily riled up." His eyes drop to your lips before leaning back. "But…I'll try to be less annoying tonight. But I can't make any promises." He chuckles.
As you’re about to say something, one of your friends comes up to you. “Y/n! Girl, come on, this is our song!” She says and starts dragging you to the dance floor.
Matt watches as you're dragged away by your friend, a hint of frustration crossing his face. He sighs and finishes his drink before setting the glass down on the bar. He glances out at the dance floor, spotting you dancing with your friends.
As you kept dancing, the cute guy that you mentioned to ‘Nick’ came up to you and started dancing with you.
Matt's eyes narrow as he watches the guy dancing with you. His jaw clenches and he looks away, trying to shake off the feeling of jealousy that's rising up inside him. He orders another drink and downs it quickly, feeling the alcohol coursing through his veins.
You keep dancing with the guy, but after a while you sneak out of the dance floor to go to the bathroom.
Matt sees you slip away from the dance floor and quickly finishes his drink. Seeing an opportunity, he follows you discreetly. As you push open the bathroom door and disappear inside, he slips in behind you, unnoticed. He leans against the wall, waiting for you to come out of the stall.
After 2 minutes you stumble out of the bathroom. “Matt? This is the ladies room you know.” You slur out.
Matt pushes off from the wall and steps closer to you, his grin lazy. "I know," he says, his voice low. "I wanted to talk to you without... distractions." He reaches out, steadying you as you wobble on your heels. "You okay there?" He chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah I'm fine.” You say grabbing onto his arms so you don't fall.
Matt's grin widens, and he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist to support you. "You don't have to hold on so tight," he murmurs, his face inches from yours. "I've got you."
You look at him and start loosening your grip on his arm.
Matt's hands tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "On second thought... keep holding on," he whispers, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.
You don’t know why but you’re starting to feel nervous and also you feel your face growing hot. “I- uhm… I have to- to go back with my friends.”
Matt's grip on you tightens, and he takes a step forward, backing you up against the sink counter. "Not yet," he says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. He tips your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "You're not going anywhere until we talk."
“Talk about what?” You ask.
Matt's thumb brushes against your bottom lip, silencing you. "About how much I can't stand you," he says, his voice barely a whisper. "About how you drive me crazy with your smart mouth and your icy glares. About… that stupid guy you were dancing with.”
Matt's expression darkens, and he leans in closer, his face inches from yours. “You’re such a slut.” He chuckles.
“What did you say?” You ask in an annoyed tone.
Matt's smirk widens, and he leans in closer, his breath hot against your face. "You heard me," he taunts. "Dancing with some random guy... you're so easy. No wonder everyone calls you a- "
Before he could finish his sentence you pushed him. “Fuck you.”
Your push barely moved a muscle on him. He takes a step forward, crowding you against the sink again. "What's wrong? Can't handle the truth?"
“It’s not true. So shut up.” You say.
Matt scoffs, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh yeah?" Matt says mockingly. “So if i were to touch your panties, they wouldn’t be soaking wet?”
You swallow hard at his words. “Wh-what?”
He leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I bet you're hot and wet right now. Are you?" His hand moves down to your thigh, grabbing it firmly. "Are you wet for me… or for that guy?"
You bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together but don’t respond.
Matt's grin turns predatory, and he slides his hand up your thigh, slowly, until it reaches the hem of your short dress. "So quiet now... not so icy anymore. Maybe I should find out for myself..."His hand slowly moves under your dress, his fingers brushing against your inner thigh. "Last chance to stop me," he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. "Tell me to stop, and I will." His hand moves higher, reaching the edge of your underwear. But you remain silent, still biting on your lip.
But you remain silent, still biting on your lip.
Taking your silence as consent, Matt's hand slips under your underwear, his fingers slowly parting your wet folds. He groans softly against your neck. "You're soaking wet... and it's not for that guy, is it?" His fingers slowly push into you, stretching you. "Admit it..."
You close your eyes and whimper as you feel his fingers stretching you out. You grab onto his neck for steadiness.
Matt's breathing grows heavier as he slowly moves his fingers in and out of you. "Say it... say it's not for him," he demands hoarsely. His thumb finds your swollen nub, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles.
You try your best not to moan. “What if it is for him?” You say in a challenging tone, trying to get him mad.
Matt's face darkens, and his touch becomes rougher. "wrong answer," he growls. His fingers pump into you faster, harder, his thumb rubbing you furiously. "Say it... say it's for me."
“Oh fuck” you whimper at the change of speed, but still maintaining your challenging self. “I wouldn’t want to lie…”
Matt's expression hardens, and he uses his free hand to tilt your head up to look at him. "Oh yeah? You wanna be like that...?" he whispers against your skin. His touch becomes demanding, almost punishing, as if he's pouring all his frustration into it. “Then you’re coming with me.” He says as he abruptly takes his fingers out and drags you out of the bathroom to a room upstairs.
Once inside, he slams the door shut locking it and pushes you down on the bed. "Your safe word is red. Now... spread your legs," he orders, his voice low and commanding. He begins unbuckling his belt, his eyes never leaving yours. "You wanted to play hard to get..."
You obediently spread your legs open, loving how rough and mad he was getting.
Matt steps between your legs, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. He pulls his belt out and wraps it around your wrist, securing it to the bed frame. "You're gonna stay like this... until I'm done with you," he growls.
You buck your hips upward trying to get some sort of friction.
Matt smirks darkly, enjoying your eagerness. He slowly unzips his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. "So impatient..." He climbs onto the bed, settling between your parted thighs. "You're not going to touch me... you're just gonna take it." Matt grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Understand?" He asks, his voice cold and demanding. Without waiting for a response, he thrusts his hard, naked cock into you in one brutal stroke, not giving you a chance to adjust. "Fuck... you're so tight,"
“Fuck” you moan loudly as you arch your back feeling pain and pleasure. “T-too big”
"Shut up," Matt snaps, his hands gripping your hips as he starts pounding into you with relentless force. "You can take it, right? Since you’re such a slut." he hisses. "And you'll take all of it. Won't you?" He leans down, biting your neck, his hips pumping faster. "Say it..." He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, the force of his thrusts making the bed shake.
“Oh fuck Mmhp” you moan loudly.
Matt chuckles darkly at your moans, his pace becoming even more brutal. "That's it... scream for me," he demands, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He reaches down and spreads your pussy open with his fingers, getting a better view of his cock pounding into you.
“Mmh Matt … fuck I’m so close” you whimper pathetically.
"Not yet," Matt growls, his thrusts getting even more intense. He reaches up and twists your nipples between his fingers. "You'll cum when I say you can." He lets go and starts to slap your tits, leaving his handprint on them. He leans back, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders, changing the angle of his thrusts. "Now this is fucking perfect..."
“Shit… Mmhp Matt I- I can’t hold it.” You moan as tears of pleasure and pain run down your face.
"I don't care," Matt hisses, his face contorting with pleasure as he continues to mercilessly pound into you. He leans down to bite your neck again, marking you. "You. Will. Not. Come. Until. I. Say."
You moan loudly and you try, you really try to hold it, but you can’t. Your pussy starts to tighten around Matt and your orgasm starts to spill out.
"Fuck!" Matt roars with anger as he feels your pussy clench around him. Matt's face darkens with anger, and he slams into you even harder, punishing you for disobeying. "You couldn't even do that...?" His voice is dangerously low. He reaches down and grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he continues to thrust into you.
“Matt.. mhh I- Im sorry” you whimper.
"Sorry?" Matt's voice is cold and harsh. "Sorry isn't going to cut it right now." He pulls out of you abruptly and sets your wrists free then he flips you over onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and pulls them up into the air, spreading your ass cheeks apart.
"You're going to pay for that," he says coldly, spitting on your hole and pressing a finger against it. "You're so worked up that you couldn't even wait for permission... Now, I'm going to teach you some self-control."
“Mmhhhh” you moan moving your hips backwards, trying to get more friction.
Matt ignores your moans and movements, focusing on his task. He pushes his finger inside you, scissoring it to stretch you open. "No, no, no... You don't get to move like that," he scolds, pulling his finger out of your pussy and spanking your ass hard.
“Mhhp shit”
Matt continues to spank your ass, each slap echoing through the room. "I said, no moving. You're going to stay still until I decide otherwise." He pauses, his hand still raised in the air, ready to strike again. "Now, I'm going to give you a choice."
You keep still waiting for him to talk.
"Either I start using my belt on your ass, or I'll let you cum when I put my finger back in your pussy, but you have to promise to stay still and not move until I say you can." He pauses, letting his words sink in. "Choose quickly, I'm losing patience."
“I- I’ll stay still…I- I promise.”
Matt nods, satisfied with your choice. He puts his finger back inside you, moving it slowly and deliberately. "That's a good girl," he says, his tone softening slightly. "Just stay still for me. I want to see how well you can control yourself."
“Mmmhhh” you moan.
Matt slowly increases the pace and pressure of his touch, his finger sliding in and out of you with maddening slowness. He wants to test your limits, to see how far you can hold back before you snap. He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You're doing so well..."
“Mmh more please.” You cry out.
Matt smirks at your words, but he doesn't increase his pace. Instead, he moves his free hand to your clit, his finger pressing down on the sensitive bud. "Be careful what you wish for," he says, his voice low and dangerous.
“Fuck….mm”
Matt continues to rub your clit in time with his finger moving in and out of your pussy. He's creating a torturous rhythm, keeping you on the edge but not allowing you to cum. "Look at you, so desperate and needy," he taunts, his breath hot against your ear.
“Matt… please”
Matt relishes the desperation in your voice. He knows you're close to breaking. He leans down and bites your neck, his fingers continuing their unyielding rhythm. "Beg some more," he growls. "Maybe then I'll let you cum."
“Please Matt… I promise I’ll be good.”
Matt finally relents, his finger pressing down hard on your clit as he curls his other finger inside you, rubbing against your g-spot. "Good girl," he praises, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now cum for me. Cum hard."
“Ohh… fuck fuck fuck” you moan as you feel that knot in your stomach finally releasing.
Matt grunts approvingly as your body convulses around his fingers. He keeps his hand on you until your movements slow, then he withdraws his hand and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. "Very good," he says, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. Matt smiles at you, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He leans in and kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth to taste yourself on his lips. "I'm not done with you yet," Matt's smile widens at your expression. He grabs a pillow and places it under your hips, tilting your bottom up higher. He positions himself in between you.
Matt runs his hands along your thighs, caressing your skin. "You're going to take me again," he says, his voice low and commanding. "And this time, you're not going to come until I say so."
Matt grabs his dick and rubs the head against your soaked pussy, teasing you. He looks into your eyes, his gaze intense. "Understand?" He asks, his voice firm. "You don't cum until I say so." He pushes the head of his dick inside you, slowly, stretching you open.
“Mmhh” you nod.
Matt's face contorts with pleasure as he slowly pushes more of himself inside you. He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pauses, buried to the hilt. "You feel that? You feel how deep I am?" He asks, his voice strained.
You try to speak but only whimpers and moans come out of your mouth.
Matt starts to move, pulling out slowly until just the head is inside, then slamming back in. He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with no mercy. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groans. "So fucking tight."
“Ahhh fuck mmmhp… t- to much”
Matt ignores your pleas, his movements becoming even more frantic. He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. "You're not allowed to cum," he reminds you, their breath hot against your ear. "You're not allowed to fucking cum until I say so."
Matt reaches around, finding your clit with his fingers. He starts to rub slow circles around it, making sure you can feel every touch. "You're so close, aren't you?" He asks, his voice strained with pleasure.
“Mmhhfp” you moan and nod.
Matt tightens his grip on your hips as he increases the speed of his hips. "Not yet," he hisses. "Not until I say so." He continues to rub your swollen nub, knowing that you're right on the edge, but not allowed to fall over.
“Fuuuuuckkk mmmh s-slow down”
Matt's breathing quickens as he gets closer to his own release. He knows you're desperate to cum, but he's enjoying the control he has over you. "Quiet," he orders, his hand moving to cover your mouth.
He continues to thrust into you, his hips moving like a piston. His fingers on your mouth muffle your cries, while his other hand still circles your swollen nub. He's close, and he knows you're on the verge of disobeying his order. "Not...yet..." he hisses.
Matt lets out a low, guttural moan as he finally finds his release. He buries himself deep inside you, his whole body tensing up. "Now," he gasps, his hand moving from your mouth to your hip, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh.
You moan as you squirt all over his cock.
Matt gasps as he feels you squirt all over his cock. His hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing frantic circles around it as he feels you continue to spasm and tremble around him. "Fuck...yes..." He pants, his own release still pulsing through him. Matt keeps his hand on your clit, rubbing it vigorously as he stays buried inside you. He can feel your pussy milking his cock, desperate to keep him inside even as it continues to spasm and twitch.
You start to feel overstimulated. “Fuck.. stop, to much” you cry and push his hand away… not knowing you’ll regret that later…
Matt's hand stops rubbing your clit, but he doesn't pull out of you. "Too much?" he repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He's still buried deep inside, his cock twitching slightly as he feels your desperate plea. He looks down at you, his eyes narrowed. "You don't get to say stop," Matt continues. "You don't get to choose when I stop," he growls, his hips starting to move again. He pulls out slowly, before thrusting back in deep and hard. He does this a few times, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust.
“Matt Matt mmhp no…. Too much.” Your body immediately pulls away.
Matt growls in frustration as you pull away from him, his cock pulling out of your pussy with a wet, slapping sound. He looks at you, his eyes narrowed. "You're going to regret that," he growls. He grabs you by your hips and flips you around. His hands immediately spread your legs apart. His hand goes and slaps your pussy.
“Fuck!” Your back arches back.
Matt's hand comes down on your soaked flesh again and again. The sound of his palm meeting your wet, puffy folds fills the room. "You pull away from me again," he growls. "And you'll regret it."
Matt growls in frustration as you pull away from him, his cock pulling out of your pussy with a wet, slapping sound. He looks at you, his eyes narrowed. "You're going to regret that," he growls. He grabs you by your hips and flips you around. His hands immediately spread your legs apart. His hand goes and slaps your pussy.
Matt's hand keeps slapping your pussy, the force of each hit making your body jolt. He doesn't stop, not until your pussy is bright red and swollen from the punishment. Finally, he stops and stands up, his cock still hard and angry. Matt grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up, resting them on his shoulders. He lines himself up with your punished hole and slowly pushes himself back inside. He's gentler this time, but only to tease you. "You're mine," he growls. "And you'll take everything I give you."
“Mhhhm fuck” you moan. Your vision starts to blur.
Matt grabs your thighs and spreads you wider, his hips slowly thrusting as he looks down at where your bodies are joined. "Look at you," he whispers. "So wet, so ready. You were made for me." His voice grows darker. "And you'll learn to take what I give you."
“Matt it's too much… mmmh”
Matt's thrusts grow harder, faster. He's fucking you with ruthless intent, his cock pounding into your pussy like it's trying to break something inside you. "Too much?" he snarls. "You think this is too much? Wait until I really lose control."
“Fuck I- mmhp… Matt… red! Red.” You can’t take it anymore so you say the safe word.
Matt immediately freezes, his body tensing as he hears you say the safe word. He pulls out of you gently, his arms wrapping around you. "Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle now. "I've got you."
Tears run down your face. “I- im sorry…”
Matt shushes you, his fingers wiping away your tears. "No, don't apologize," he says softly. "This is what the safe word is for. To stop anything that's too much. I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to push you that far."
He holds you close, not saying anything more as he lets you process the emotions running through you. When he feels you starting to relax, he pulls back slightly and looks into your eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks softly.
You nod slowly.
He sighs in relief and wraps his arms around you again, holding you close. "Good," he murmurs. "Let's just rest for a bit, okay? We can talk about this later when you're feeling better." He settles back against the pillows, pulling you onto his chest.
But you guys suddenly hear someone knock on the bedroom door. “Hey! I said bedrooms are off limits!”
“Fuck… it’s probably the host of the party” Matt mumbles.
“Wh- what do we do?”
Matt quickly helps you clean up and get dressed. And he also gets dressed up. “Let me drive you home, okay?”
“What about Nick and Chris?” You ask.
Matt sighs, “They can take an Uber. We can’t risk getting caught like this. I’ll text them.” He grabs your hand and pulls you out of the bedroom. He leads you downstairs, where the party is still in full swing.
Matt's grip on your hand tightens as he weaves through the crowd, making his way to the door. He doesn't say anything until they're outside and in the car. "I'm sorry about that," he says.
“About what?” You ask.
"About getting carried away like that… a-“
“Don’t worry about it” you cut him off.
Matt glances at you as he pulls out of the driveway. "No, really. I promise I won't push you like that again. Unless... unless you want me to." He pauses, his voice growing softer. "Did you like any of it?"
You laugh softly. “Of course I did… It was amazing. It’s just at the end it… it was too much.”
Matt nods understandingly. "I know. And I'm sorry. But you liked the other parts? The spanking, the way I talked to you?"
“It was kinda hot…”
Matt smirks at you briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "Kinda hot, huh?" His hand rests on your thigh as he drives, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll have to explore that more, then. But not today. Today, I just want to make sure you're okay."
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AHH ALMOST 2000 FOLLOWERS ❤️
SORRY FOR TAKING TOO LONG TO WRITE THIS
Hope you guys like it 🩷🙌
4217 words….
Not read proof!!
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giannaln4 · 2 months
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Do You Miss Me?
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: Four months after your breakup, Lando needs to know if you miss him as much as he misses you, or at least if you still think about him, even if the answer might kill him.  (3k words)
warnings: angst, breakup, cursing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of one-night stands, use of Y/N, happy ending
a/n: FINALLY i wrote some angst. honestly i had this idea in mind sometime last week, but i didn't know where to start. not gonna lie, i really do like how it turned out but i never know how to end fics so it sucks a little towards the end. anyway pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻
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Four months. It had been four months of pure agony. Four months since you left him, and for four months, he couldn’t think of anything else than you. 
You wouldn’t say you ended on good terms, considering the last conversation you had was more of an argument about how little you thought he cared about your relationship. 
That was far from the truth, and he tried so hard to convince you otherwise, but clearly it wasn’t enough. You broke up with him that night, leaving his apartment immediately after and never looked back, leaving a broken Lando behind. Two amazing years beside you down the drain just like that. Maybe he should tried harder.
He really shouldn’t have waited till the last second to express how much he cared, and you would probably never know that, but he still does. 
After the first month, he started to give up. You wanted nothing to do with him, and honestly, he didn’t blame you, so when he realised he would never be able to fix it, he stopped trying, but that doesn’t mean he stopped loving you. 
He still remembers vividly when he got back home after a race weekend and went out for a drive, something he thought could help him get his mind off many things that were going on. It worked, at first, it was going great, really, the fresh Monaco air running through his hair as the music blasted through the speakers, Lando singing at the top of his lungs every single word, until he paid attention to the passenger seat and spotted a shiny little tube. He reached for it, and his world went back down when he realised what it was. Your lipgloss. Not any lipgloss, but your favourite one. The one you used to wear every single day and the one he got so used to tasting and smelling. 
After that, it was like something shifted inside him. Lando tried hard to forget about you, going to parties, and getting involved with anyone he could take back to his hotel. He never took anyone back to his apartment, the space contained too many happy memories of the two of you; it was almost sacred to him. He would never dare to stain those with one-night stands. 
Every time he sat on the couch where he watched you leave, for some reason he waited for you to come back. It was stupid; he knew that, but maybe one day you would. And if it wasn’t you, he prayed that at least it was someone just like you. 
Maybe that’s what he was looking for every other night. Sometimes they were good enough to make him forget, but most of the time, they weren’t. They weren’t even close to that, because he thought about your lips when he kissed someone else, he thought about your hands when he felt his hair being pulled softly, he thought about your legs when he had someone else’s wrapped around him, he thought about your eyes when he looked at anyone else. 
Just when he thinks he’s getting over you, something happens that pulls him back in, and he thinks it’s slowly killing him inside. 
Tonight was one of those nights. He was at the club with some of his mates, his mind fully enjoying his surroundings, not a trace of you up there, until that song started playing, that stupid song that you used to hum when cooking a meal for the both of you, his mind bringing him back to all those times he hugged you from behind as he watched you and helped you, humming along with you and planting soft kisses every now and then. Or when you were taking a shower and didn’t care to keep it down, and he would just enjoy the little concert while he laid on your shared bed, waiting for you to come back to him. Or when you played it in repeat every time you were in the car, messing up a few words even though you had heard it a million times. God, he hated that he got a little sick of it back then.
He stopped moving immediately, and instead, he looked around him, only to spot everyone else dancing along with the melody. 
Did no one else care about what that song meant? Did no one else think of you? 
But there was one main topic invading his mind. Did you also think of him when you heard that song? Did you remember all the little moments? Do you even think of him anymore? There was only one way to find out, and even though he promised he wouldn’t do it anymore, he just needed to know. 
Lando took his phone out of his pocket and started walking away from his group, already looking up your contact. 
“Hey mate, where are you going?” Max stopped him, catching a glimpse of what was on his screen. 
“I just need to step outside for a moment.”
Max looked at him in doubt. He knew how stubborn Lando was when it came to you, so no matter how hard he tried to convince him, there was no stopping him. “Alright, just don’t do anything stupid.”
Lando nodded, not really caring what he thought, and kept moving until he finally found a way out of the loud club. He clicked on your contact without even thinking, nervousness washing over him when it started to ring. He waited, and waited, and waited, until it went to voicemail. 
He was not surprised; it has been like that for a while anyway, but he couldn’t deny he was a little hurt. 
Once the beep ended, he cleared his throat, ready to utter all those questions that he had been dying to know, but he didn’t even know where to start. You hadn’t talked in so long, how was he supposed to ask such things?
“Y/N, it’s me, uh- sorry, I know it’s late and you’re probably sleeping right now, or you just saw my name and didn’t feel like picking up, which I get, I don’t expect you to… you know… anyway, uh-“ 
He has no idea where he was going with this, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of segue that made sense. What he truly wanted to ask doesn’t make sense either. 
“I know that you probably don’t want to see me again- I don’t know but, uh- I wanted to tell you that… you left your lipgloss in my car- and I was wondering if maybe you wanted it back, I could stop by one of these nights.” He cleared his throat again, mentally cursing himself at how stupid and desperate he sounded. “Anyway, please call me. Bye.” 
He hung up and went back to his car, looking for the lipgloss once again and putting it safely in his pocket before making his way back home. 
Even with alcohol in his system, it was hard for Lando to go to sleep. If he couldn’t ask you over the phone, how could he possibly stand before you and say all those things?
In reality, it was simple. He had nothing to lose if he had already lost you, and who knows, maybe you never stopped loving him either.
The last thing he wanted was to get his hopes up. He wanted to see you come back to him, but seeing you again would be enough.
⋆。° ✮ ⋆。° ✮ 
The next morning, you stared at your phone screen for a little too long, debating whether you should listen to his voicemail or just ignore it. 
You wanted to hear it so bad, but it took you so long to forget about him that you knew you probably shouldn’t. Not that you ever forgot about him completely, no, but just enough to go on with your life and pretend to be fine. 
Curiosity got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were listening to it. You could tell he had been drinking, the alcohol influence was notorious in his voice, and he sounded unsure of what he was telling you. However, you knew he was telling the truth. You did leave your lipgloss in his car, but there had to be another reason for his call, right?
The day went by and you didn’t get back to him, but his voice and words lingered in your mind all the time, and at this point, you had convinced yourself that he had an ulterior motive; why else would he call you at 3 AM, drunk, telling you about something you left in his car months ago?
You would be lying if you said you were never close to giving him a call while being drunk, but your friends never let you do something so stupid, telling you to remember why you left him in the first place, but sometimes you wonder just that: why?
It wasn’t because you didn’t love him anymore; you did, even now, but the heat of the moment made you utter those words without you realising it until it was too late. 
Your pride would never let you take it back anyway, so you just left his apartment after packing your stuff, with Lando following every turn you made as he begged for you to listen. Sometimes you wondered what would have happened if you never broke up with him, and instead, you listened to what he was telling you; they weren’t excuses, you know he meant every word, and maybe you should’ve given him one more chance.
You weren’t sure why, but your mind decided you should see him. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but god, he had been living in your mind more than usual, and you needed to know if he truly just wanted to give you your lipgloss, and if not, what were the reasons he had, so you texted him the next morning.
⋆。° ✮ ⋆。° ✮ 
His heart nearly stopped when he saw your name pop up on his screen. Five simple words that could change everything. Or at least he hoped so. 
‘You can stop by tonight’ is what the message read, and he immediately started to get nervous. 
After not getting a response from you the first day, he pretty much gave up and figured you were done with him and would never see you again. He thought you either didn’t buy his dumb excuse or didn’t care to even listen to his voicemail. But there he was, on his way to see you after four long months. 
Lando parked outside your apartment, taking a deep breath and rehearsing what he’s been meaning to ask you, his heart pounding with every step he took as he walked towards your door. 
He kept your lipgloss in his pocket, like he had been doing for the last couple of days, and knocked on your door, a little unsure of how tonight would turn out. 
The door slowly opened before him, and there you were, standing in front of him as beautiful as always. 
“Hi,” he said nervously as he tried to give you a smile. 
“Hi. You can come in.” You stepped to the side, almost melting at how his delicious scent invaded your nostrils as he walked past you and into your apartment.
“Thanks.” He looked around and he felt… weird; it was all so familiar yet so strange. That used to be your apartment before you moved in with him, and the memory of all those nights he would stay over came back in a rush. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thank you.”
“I see you finally got that lamp,” he said, your eyes following his and finding the green lamp that rested on your console, one that you had been wanting for a while when you still lived with him, but he was never a big fan of it, saying the colour didn’t really match with the rest of his apartment. 
“Yeah. I know you always thought the colour was hard to match, but I like it.”
“Right. It looks good,” he said, his eyes finding yours again. “You look good.”
You didn’t know what to say; you wanted to say it back, but something in you didn’t let you, so you just nodded and tried to utter a little ‘thank you’, but you weren’t sure he heard it. 
“Anyway, uh- I have your lipgloss. I know it’s your favourite one, so I thought I should give it back.” He took it out of his pocket and placed it in your hand. Somehow, it was hard to let it go; it was almost as if he was giving up the last piece of you. he had, apart from the memories.
“Thanks,” you said as you took it, your hand brushing his for a split second. You locked eyes with him, waiting for him to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead, his gaze dropped to his now empty hands. “Is that really why you are here?”
He thought about it for a moment. No, there were a million reasons he was standing before you right now. He shook his head and took another deep breath, getting ready to finally let it all out. 
“I miss you,” he looked at you again and saw your intention to say something, probably to stop him from going back to that topic, so he decided to interrupt you. “I know- I know we’ve been over this a million times, and a million times you have given me reasons why it can’t happen, why we can’t happen, but Y/N, for four months I’ve done nothing but miss you and regret how stupid I was for letting you go.” 
Unsure of how you would react, he took a step closer to you and tried to hold your hand, almost letting out a sigh of relief when you didn’t pull away. 
“I just need to know, do you miss me? Do you ever think about me, about us?”
You could feel the tears threatening to leave your eyes. You wanted nothing more than to say yes and kiss him, but after how things ended between the two of you, you didn’t know if that was a good idea. 
“You have no idea how much I wish I could go back and make it right, love you the way you deserve, and show it like I was supposed to. Maybe our time is over, and even if you think it’s better to say goodbye, please don’t say goodbye.”
He finally stopped and waited for you to say something. The seconds felt like hours, and it seemed impossible to read your face.
“I’m sorry, Lan.”
“Please,” he begged, standing even closer to you. “Please, baby. How can I live without you now that I know what your love feels like, what loving you feels like, and how terrible it is to live without you?” Locking eyes with you, he decided to ask you one more time “Do you miss me?”
His teary gaze was intense, almost suffocating, and you couldn’t keep it together any longer. You nodded as your tears started falling down your face, squeezing his big hand back. “But I don’t know if it’s gonna work.”
“Yes it will, I will make sure of that. Everything I did wrong the first time, it won’t happen again. I promise.”
“But what if it doesn’t? I can’t go through another breakup. Not with you.” Not that he did terrible things, his job was getting in the way of your relationship and you just wished he made an effort to make sure you never felt neglected, but right now, all you could think about was how bad it got for you when you just broke up with him. It was hard to do everything, and you didn’t know you could handle it again.
Lando, on the other hand, was sure it would all work out this time if you just gave him one more chance. He was not letting you go, not again.
“I know it’s too much to ask, but please, just give me one more chance. I won’t let it go to waste; I’ll use it so I can spend the rest of my life with you, just like we planned.” Maybe that’s all you needed to hear. You believed him, but you were somehow scared to give in. “I will never hurt you again, I promise.”
“Okay,” you said, barely above a whisper, so he wasn’t completely sure if he had heard you right.
“Okay?” He waited for you to either break his heart again or to make him the happiest man alive.
“Yes,” was all you said, leaving all your pride and insecurities behind as you hugged him as tight as you could, almost as if you were making up for all those times you needed his touch but didn’t have it.
Lando had more tears in his eyes than before, but they were happy tears now. “Come back, baby, you can bring that lamp.” You let out a genuine laugh for the first time in a while, enjoying the way he was embracing you.
He pulled away and looked at you, as lovingly as always. He couldn’t believe you were his again. Putting a strand of hair behind your ear, he was begging with his eyes to kiss you again.
It probably had to be you to make the move this time, you thought, since he was the one that had the courage to do what you didn’t. So you did, you closed the gap between you and finally tasted his lips again. It was long and full of love, the kiss transmitting what the words couldn’t.
“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away, with his forehead resting against yours as he caressed all of you.
861 notes · View notes
cheriladycl01 · 11 days
Note
ANGST ( friendship ended, ego battles, Championship, Ferrari, Red Bull, Dutchman, American Girl, unrequired love, Title battle)
Y/N and Max have been friends since their go-karting days. She was a driver for Alpha Tauri and achieved spectacular results with the team and was hoping to take the second seat at Red Bull, but as other drivers are ahead of her to take that spot, she accepts a million-dollar proposal from Ferrari. Max is bewildered by her decision and breaks up a years-long friendship for a trivial reason, as she is thinking about the good part of her career and at Ferrari she has a chance to fight for titles. She is devastated by Max's reaction and his contempt for her, the Dutchman starts to pretend that the American doesn't exist and ignores her both in the paddock and in Monaco, where they live. Fans, fellow riders and the media are devastated how such a lasting friendship ended in such a heavy climate, the American media blasts Max, while the Dutch media trashes Y/N. Y/N and Max enter into a brutal and fierce dispute for the 2024 championship, more tense than 2021, due to the entire context that involves the two. Max felt betrayed by her leaving Red Bull and by her never realizing that he always liked her, but now she's the one who doesn't want anything to do with him in her life anymore and she's going to do whatever it takes to be world champion. They arrive in Abu Dhabi tied and in the wheel-to-wheel dispute, Y/N becomes world champion, and Max realizes that he made a mistake with the love of his life and is humbled by her forgiveness.
This is the story of us! - Max Verstappen x FerrariDriver! Reader
Plot: In the style of a documentary find out what really happened in the year of 2024 between Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N.
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“Audio test in the studio please Y/N” the Documenter asks from behind cameras.
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” you say your face on camera as some continues to fix your hair.
A News Broadcaster pops up from 2023 on Sky Sports News.
“Today the shocking news has come that rather than signing with Red Bull Y/N Y/LN has made a million dollar move to Ferrari”
“Y/L/N to drive in Red for the 2024 season”
“Red Bull decision to not sign Y/L/N leaves them out no options says Adrian Newey”
News articles play in overlay over each other as they get more frequent about your career change 2 years ago.
“Hiya Y/N” the interviewer for the documentary asks.
“Hello” you smile back politely on the footage.
“So this documentary is about the Formula One season of 2024 and … your intense battle for the championship”
“Mmmmm all very interesting no?” You joke before serious music comes on. Showing some shots of you racing, and some of the radios that came from that season.
“This isn’t right! Why isn’t my team working together” your voice come through.
“Y/N it’s time to back off. You can’t win this one”
“I’m never going to give up, it’s me or him in this dust and I don’t care which as this point as long as I know I pushed”
“Y/N are you okay? Y/N?”
“What the fuck was that?”
“Guys this is my last chance let’s put it all in”
“FUCK THIS GUY MAN”
“Yes it was … a heated season for sure” you chuckle.
“So start by telling us about your early life” she asks after a small compilation of early photos of you karting before it’s edited to flick back and forth between your interview and clips of you karting and in the feeder series.
“I started karting from a very young age, around 6 and worked my way up like any other driver. Eventually Red Bull … saw potential in me and decided to sponsor me and make me a part of their Young Drivers Programme. That eventually fed me into a seat in AlphaTauri or what is now Visa CashApp RB” you start, hands clenched together.
“I saw everyone else get a chance at that Red Bull seat before me regardless of my performance. And when they signed Sergio Perez, someone from a different team, that tipped me over the edge” you admit, knowing that it was one of the hardest heartbreaks you experienced.
“And that’s when Ferrari came in?” The interviewer asks.
“That’s when Ferrari came in, they wanted something fresh and new and I’d pretty much grown up with Charles just like I had Max, so there was no concern about us being Team-Mates. It was … despite Ferraris struggles in recent years, my only way forward” you nod your head, before the documentary shows your driving in your AlphaTauri and your incredible win in that car, that should have been the reason Horner wanted to sign you.
“Max … wasn’t happy with this decision” she asks and you nod.
“He wasn’t … i thought if anything was to ruin our friendship it would be an external relationship that didn’t appreciate our bond. Not … because of a job” you laugh thinking of his reaction and how he’d cut you off in all aspects of life.
That year was difficult for you, even though you’d had more people around you than you’d ever had in your life you had never felt more lonely.
Max had pretty much axed you out of his life. He’d blocked you on every social media, every messaging platform and even put your emails into his junk folder. You thought it was a step too far writing to him so, you left it.
You left an eleven year friendship to just go down the drain. You didn’t realise until he was actually gone how much of an impact Max Verstappen had on you and your life. He was there for you for every major thing that happened in your life and this move to Ferrari felt like your next step. But he had no longer wished to be a part of that.
“What did it feel like when you announced going to Ferrari?” Your asked and your paused for a while before you face the interviewer.
“I think everybody dreams of driving for Ferrari, no matter what team your currently with as … it’s the pinnacle of motorsport. But to be the first female to drive for Ferrari is a statement. The day I made the announcement and it went onto the F1 page that my contract was up with RedBull and AlphaTauri for the 2023 season I couldn’t have been happier because it felt like I was finally moving forward and not stuck in the same spot” you answer and she nods.
“And how did that affect your friendships?” She asks and you almost scoff.
“Why didn’t you just say Max” you chuckle before sighing. You never mind talking about it especially now, of course you were upset and heated back then. You normally tending to be after racing if it didn’t go your way anyway, but when it came to Max leaving you there were times you were pretty nonchalant about it because you didn’t know how to react.
It was the later reaction that was more frightening.
“Well, that would spoil that kind of answer, clearly there’s more of an issue here than with any other driver” she asks.
“You’ve done your research, you know exactly what happened”
Media floods in the documentary American News anchors sending hate to Max Verstappen especially when he came to home turf for a race and the Deutch fans butchering you in the Netherlands.
SkySports -
“Max Verstappen is brutal, can’t imagine ever being as petty as he is”
ESPN News -
“And today we have news that Red Bull Driver Max Verstappen has cut all ties with new Ferrari Driver Y/N Y/L/N, for her change of team”
Fan at the Track -
“You know Max is incredibly overrated and childish for what he did to our American pride and joy”
News in the Netherlands
“ze is gewoon een vreselijke chauffeur”
Fan at Zandvoort
“neuk haar”
It pans back to you looking down at your hands before the interviewer speaks up again.
“So before the season started did you and Max have any heated arguments that contributed to the start of the season?” She asks and you shake your head.
“He blocked me on everything, I was with my ex-boyfriend at that point and we were travelling during the winter break so it didn’t bother me too much. I tried to keep myself distracted knowing I had great support around me, a new team to get to know and work with.
But as the 2024 started to get closer and you came back home to Monaco, sensing Max had disappeared from your life finally sunk in. You had many days at home wrapped up in blankets crying, wondering where it all went wrong.
Making you feel lonely in Monaco was one thing, but it only got worse in the paddock when racing resumed for the testy 2024 season.
A video plays of the Bahrain testing in 2024 you on track in a semi fast Ferrari that people cannot tell whether you are sandbagging or not Max breezing past you.
Strangely that was the closest you’d been to Max in months.
“Monaco was different now that you didn’t have your best friend … how did you occupy your time instead?” She asked.
It showed videos of you partying in Monaco with Charles your soon to be team-mate, Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo.
Then it flicked to you and Lando golfing with Max Fewtrell, while vacationing.
It flicked to a very public argument between you and your boyfriend which proceeded to your breakup.
“Well, it was an interesting build up to the season. Let’s just say that” you smirk knowing at the start of 2024 before preseason testing you caused a lot of chaos all to try get your mind off the absence of Max.
“Then we find ourselves at Bahrain 2024… a race I think that will be in the history books as one of the most tense season openings ever” she admits writing something down on the notepad she had that she really didn’t need.
“Yes, it was an interesting race. I think that was the first time I was in equal machinery to Max, at the start of the season we didn’t start off as good as RedBull but Charles and I were giving him a run for his money” you admit knowing Sergio Perez didn’t have the greatest start to the season and now that you were locked into Ferrari, Red Bull were beating themselves up over the loss of you.
“So Max took pole and you were only 0.003 seconds behind him, what a margin! You started P2 both front row” she smiles and you nod.
“Yeah I think that’s the most scared I’ve ever felt in a race car, P2 has been my best qualifying position and I couldn’t let it go to waste. But having Max next to me with everything that was going on was a massive headache” you tell her and there’s a clip of you looking over at Max sat next to you just before the formation lap was about to begin.
“Let’s talk about turn 1 Bahrain …” she asks and you nod.
“I mean, I was racing and I was racing hard. I gave Max plenty of room, I had the inside line and I got past him and led. It was a good overtake and the team didn’t exactly tell me not to go for it” you explain and she nods.
“But after your pit stop stuff got real” she adds and you nod with a roll of your eyes.
“Tell me about it” you laugh.
“AND VERSTAPPEN GOES FOR THE OVERTAKE GOING INTO TURN 5, Y/N DEFENDING BEAUTIFULLY AND HE GOES AGAIN EDGING HER INTO TURN SIX AND OMG HES OFF INTO THE GRAVEL! MAX VERSTAPPEN IS OUT IF THE BAHRAIN GP” it shows the commentary from Crofty when this was all happening showing Max getting out the car and slamming his helmet down.
“WHAT THIS Y/N HAS DAMAGE THERE WAS IN FACT CONTACT AND SHES HAD TO PULL OVER NOT MAKING IT BACK TO THE PITS FOR A NEW TYRE” is shown also you getting out of the car, your escorted back to the pit wall while Safety Car is deployed.
“Yours and Max’s argument that day while the race was still underway and Charles was leading, was intense who actually started it?” She asks.
“Oh Max did 100%. I was just talking to my race engineer and he came over all pissy and yelling in my face. Seeing him so red and angry was funny though” you admit.
“I think that’s the first time people had seen seriously Mad Max since the Ocon incident”
“I guess I just bring that side out of him” you admit with a nod.
“What the fuck was that” Max came over to you, you took a step back hoping to defuse the situation knowing their was cameras around and you didn’t really want to bring attention to either of you.
“Look Max we were both racing hard. It happens, you went into me, we both ended up out the race … it happens” you explain and the camera men all get closer.
“You went into me! Are you having a laugh!” He says until he starts ranting in Dutch and his PR manager and a Marshall take him away from you.
“Bahrain was incredibly dramatic for a race. The champion of last year was sat at the bottom of the leader board and Charles, Lando and George were looking at the top spots. How did the make you feel?” She asks and you nod.
“Obviously it’s concerning. Coming back isn’t easy after a feat like that, so we knew we’d have to come back in Saudi and make it better than it was. It’s also hard to come back from something like that mentally? Yano. So Saudi was hard especially all the media around me” you explains and it cuts to clips of all kinds of media swarming around you asking you stuff about Max and your race in Bahrain.
“In Saudi you and Max raced hard but eventually it ended up with Max in P1 and you in P2 and Lando P3… that podium was tense” she explains and a video of the podium came up, showing Max celebrating with everyone but you. You ending up leaving him and Lando and leant over the fence of the podium to spray your team down below.
“Lando and Max are close, but you and Lando are aswell so how did it feel having no celebration up there with you?” She asked.
“Lando is actually the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He cares about everybody and everything and he worries when he thinks he’s upset someone. He messaged me after that podium, apologising for leaving me out of the celebration and he didn’t even realise he had as he was so caught up in Max spraying him he thought it was both of us. I obviously replied saying I wasn’t upset and that it was okay. I had my team and that’s all I really needed at the end of the day” you nod knowing it WAS a hard podium to be up on but you made the best of a bad situation.
“The comes Australia, and this is your first time to regain the points lost in Bahrain. So what did you do?”
“Man … the first time I won was so nice … that I just had to do it twice” you quote Anthony Joshua with a little laugh. Before it shows you’re victory.
“AND FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HER FORMULA ONE CAREER THE AMERICAN TAKES HOME THE CHEQUERED FLAG TAKING VICTORY IN AUSTRALIA, TEAMMATE CHARLES LECLERC BEHIND HER IN P2 WITH LANDO NORRIS CLOSING UP THE PODIUM” Ted commentates.
“It was an incredible feeling, knowing I was now making my way back up the ranks and was in P3 in the championship, Max was behind me and I felt like I was back in the game. To DNF’s for him was almost laughable.
“The points were very amusing come China, you were leading the championship and Ferrari were at the top for the constructors championship. And Max, Lando and Charles were all on 76 points and you were on 78… how tight!?” She adds.
“Yes, it was crazy how varied this season was with wins, especially with how RedBull were insanely dominant the year before and RedBull took all wins bar Singapore. At this point I wasn’t just fighting Max in he championship there was word at Ferrari that team orders were going to come into play to help Charles win but when we were both so close in points it was easier to just let us race” you explain happily, knowing that it was a fun season to be a part of.
“But after China was a sort of turning point for Max correct?” She asks and you nod again.
“It was for both of us. After China it was a constant change between me and Max of who was going to win, Lando and Charles remained close, but not enough to win.” You explain but her look tells you you didn’t give her the answer she was after.
“I meant about Max trying to rekindle that friendship you both once had” she asks and you scoff.
“Mmmmm you’ll have to ask him about that… at the time I could only assume he wanted to be my friend to distract me from what was important … winning” you answer.
“Hello Max” the interviewer says as their special guest for the documentary comes in. He takes a seat, a stoic nod as he does.
“So, Y/N didn’t seem to be able to tell us what happened after the Chinese Grand Prix, it seems from sources that you unblocked her on everything and attempted contact?” She asks and Max nods.
“I- I did. After seeing her wins, and her face once she realised it was a full fight this year and how excited that made her I knew I was in the wrong for ever letting our bond go. I don’t think she even cared about the championship that year, just being in a team that was letting her drive a good car, with a good team and actually help her improve. I was in the wrong but at this point … she was only focused on racing” he sings and a compilation of videos of the pair of you arguing on track came up.
“It was just affecting you guys either was it?”
“No, it was hard especially for Lando, Daniel and Charles, we’re all so close and Lando and Y/n are like siblings so when it came to the both of us not talking it was difficult for them. Y/N being … well Y/N didn’t want to make it a big deal and started hanging out more with her other friends like Yuki, Logan, Zhou, George and Alex but it still meant it was … awkward to say the least” he admits.
“Yeah, that sounds rough, do you ever regret it?” She asks and he nods.
“For a long long time, I didn’t think that I would be able to reconcile our friendship like Nico and Lewis did” he admits.
“But you think that now?” She asks and he smiles.
“I know so” he smirks
It was the end of the season, you and Max were tied in points so for fans it was like Abu Dhabi 2021 all over again. Max was starting P1 and you were starting P2, you’d overtaken him down the straight having better straight line speed than his car did. You were practically flying round the track, Max chugging along behind you eventually setting the fastest lap, and you just knew the cheer from the crowd would have been phenomenal if you could hear it.
After great strategy from Ferrari you ended up winning that race, along with the Championship. Getting out the car was a feeling like no other, you bend down by the wheel of your car, tears streaming out your eyes and dripping on the still closed visor as your knees give out from a tricky and hot race as you sob.
You run over to the Ferrari team, them all pulling you into hugs along with Charles and his girlfriend who looks so excited to celebrated with you.
“OMG” you cried into Fred’s arms. What surprised you the mot was a tap on your back and a blue race suit. You were silent looking at Max.
“Congratulations” he says and tears are still in your eyes. You just nod at him politely.
“Please Y/N I’m so sorry, I - you deserve the seat and the championship. You’ve done so well this year and I’m so proud of you” he smiles and more tears flood your eyes. All you’d wanted to hear was those words.
“Do you ever think you could forgive me, because I love you Y/N and I cannot loose you” he says tears brimming his own eyes.
“I forgave you a long time ago Max, this was all really stupid” you smile at him. Before your team I pulling you away to get you to the podium.
“After the podium, come meet me at the bay, 3rd yacht along… okay I have to tell you something” he shouts after you and you nod grinning.
“What happened on that boat Max?” The interviewer asks.
“That’s for me to know and no-one to ever find out …” he smirks before laughing and giving you as kiss on the cheek as you come back into the room.
“Y/N?”
“Mmmmm I’m with Max, but let’s just say … we rekindled” you laugh and the cameras cut out the documentary ended.
“So you guys are obviously together … what changed?” She asks off camera curiosity getting the best of her.
“We worked out that we had feeling for each other for a very very long time before the fight!” You answer and well, that was that.
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806 notes · View notes
sugarcoatedstarkey · 8 months
Text
Firsts
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pairings - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
summary - Rafe was always there for your firsts.
warnings - drinking, drugs, language, fem receiving oral. (18+)
An/ I have other fics I should be finishing but this came to me this morning and I needed to write it!
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Rafe Cameron.
Rafe Cameron was your first everything.
First friend, first girl boy hug, first kiss, first touch, first time, you hadn’t expected him to be your first heartbreak though.
Having been friends with him the moment your eyes landed on the quiet boy who sat on the browning grass, staring out at the kids playing. You can still remember the slight scowl on his chubby little face, you took it upon yourself to be friends with him.
Surprisingly he wanted to be your friend just as much as you wanted to be his, from that moment on the two of you were inseparable. It helped that you moved in next door to him, your parents becoming fast friends.
Throwback to the ripe age of 18, the night he broke your heart. You weren’t together, you were just best friends. Best friends that shared each other's firsts and seconds and so on. Neither of you put a label on the love you shared.
You wished you had though, the moment your eyes landed on his hands laced through Rebecca Jones’s tiny delicate hand, you knew that was the end.
He didn’t greet you that night, didn’t pull you into his famous bone crushing hug or whisper about how annoying everyone was. Instead he ignored you, Rebecca and his friends followed behind him as though he was royalty.
He wore a frightening smirk on his face the whole night, shoved at JJ Maybank who was hired as wait staff along with a fair few other pogues. Made a scene and called them names, at one point his father even had to get involved.
You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of the man in front of you, no longer the person you wanted to share your firsts with.
Fast forward to 21, you haven't spoken to him in three years. You couldn’t deny you missed him deeply, his picture still hung from the thin string lining your bedroom wall. But it was only one photo compared to the 300 you had tucked under your bed along with other memories.
It was your birthday, your eyes skimmed the people in the garden setting up for your party. Your eyes shooting to the silk black dress that hung in the doorway of your ensuite, darting your eyes back over the lawn and up at the tall house beside yours.
Your eyes search for a glimpse of Rafe but no life was found in the windows or the balcony. Letting out a soft sigh, you pushed yourself to stand. You didn’t have much time to get ready, your friends would be here soon and would want to start drinking the moment they stepped into your room.
45 minutes later you found yourself on the back porch, nursing a pornstar martini that your friend Elle had made. People had started to arrive and the sun had begun to set, your eyes searching through the sea of people for Rafe. You knew he wouldn’t show, even though at the age of 12 he promised to throw you the biggest 21st, just like the people on tv.
“Hey!”
You jumped slightly in your seat at the brazen voice, eyes landing on your friends who stared at you with worry. “What?” You questioned, grabbing a napkin you dabbed at the liquid that ran down your chest.
“I said, Barry is waiting for you by the side gate”.
All you do is nod and stand, Elle passes you the envelope of cash and keeps her eyes on the people around her. Tucking the folded up envelope in your bra, you make your way to the side of the house.
The music is loud and everyone is having a good time, your parents have gone out for the weekend to give you some space. Your friends had decided they wanted to buy something stronger than weed but were too scared of Barry to organize it themselves, but you apparently had no fear these days.
“Princess”
You knew you made a mistake instantly, Barry lent against the fence in a wife beater and ratty shorts. Smoke surrounded his face, stepping out of the dark he stopped in front of you.
You stood at the same height as him, if you had opted for heels you would have towered over him. “That dress looks good on you”.
“Here’s your money”
He cocked his head and kissed his teeth, eyes roaming your body unashamedly. You take a step back but he’s quick to step forward, gripping your wrist that held the envelope. “How about I give you something that’ll blow your mind but you pay a different way”
You shook your head instantly, you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, the way his eyes darkened at the sight of you. “No I don’t think so… take the cash”
A throaty laugh escapes his lips and he tugs you towards him, your palm smacks his chest to keep you from falling into him further. You can smell the cigarette on his breath, scrunching your nose up when his lips ghost your cheek. “How about you get on your knees and put that pretty little mouth to good use”.
You tug on your wrist but his grip tightens, slipping his tongue out to wet his lips. “I have the cash, please just take the cash”.
His palm meets your shoulder, he uses all his strength to push your body to the floor and your knees hit the gravel. “Barry” you grit, your clenched fist meets his stomach and he doubles over in pain. “You bitch!”.
He coughs loudly and the little baggie falls to the floor, you're quick to grab it and jump up, throwing the envelope to his feet you step back but meet a hard wall. “Do we have a problem?”
All words that sat on the tip of your tongue vanished at the sight of Rafe, his eyes are hard and pointed at Barry. “I have the cash to pay him” your voice is just above a whisper, the skin of your bicep tingles at the feeling of Rafe’s fingers gripping tightly. “I don’t want the cash.. I want her on her knees” Barry growls, he stands up straight and steps towards you again. Pressing your back firmly against Rafe’s chest, he’s quick to pull you behind him. “She’s with me Barry”
“Oh shit man… I didn’t know she was yours!”
“She’s mine”
The goosebumps are back and butterflies swarm your belly, you zone out for what feels like a second but when you come back down to reality, Rafe is ushering you away from the scene, eyes cocking to see Barry hopping on his bike and the envelope you had for him inside his back pocket.
“I didn’t need your help”
You're not sure why you even said that, of course you needed help. There was no way you were leaving with anything unless you sucked Barry off. Rafe ignores you, pushing you forward by your lower back until you're back with your friends. Your fingers tighten around the baggie, hiding it from Rafe’s eyes.
You didn’t care that he knew you were buying drugs, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him snort lines at every party. It just felt strange, your first time doing something harder then weed wasn’t with him.
All your friends' eyes are on the two of you, mouths opened in shock. Before anyone can say anything he’s walking away, slipping into the crowd of people and disappearing. “What just happened?”
“Let’s get high”
The four of you lock yourself in the bathroom, opening the small baggie you pour the contents into your palm. “Did he say what it was?”
You shook your head, placing a small pill on the tip of your tongue. Each of their eyes watch as you swallow, holding out your palm for them to grab.
“I’m scared… I feel like we shouldn’t trust what he gives us”
“It’s fine, if it had been anything bad he would have told Rafe.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do Elle.. take the damn pill”
Each of them grab a pill and swallow, you put the rest back into the bag and hide it under the toilet sink inside your tampon box.
You're out the door before any of them can stop you, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the bench and heading back outside. Your feet take you further into the party, looking for Rafe. You hadn’t expected him to show up, your parents made you invite him since it would have been rude to throw a party next door without inviting your oldest friend.
You spot Rafe instantly, sipping on a beer and leaning against a pole. Topper and Kelce stand beside him as the two of them chat, Rafe’s eyes meet you for a brief moment before turning away from you.
Anger bubbles in your chest, storming back through the party. The bottle of champagne now half empty by the time you make it to your bathroom, the anger fuels the stupidity in your brain.
Grabbing the pills from the tampon box you take another, wanting the effects of the drug to hit you faster. But by the time you’ve taken the last step of the patio you're swaying, throwing your arms out to brace yourself. “Shit” you laugh, the empty bottle of champagne hitting the grass with a thud.
“Come dance!” Elle shouted, her tiny arms waving above her head. With wobbly legs you make your way to your friends, dancing wildly with them until a hot body comes up behind you and circles their arm around your waist, pressing you firmly to their crotch. “Hey”
You let the person dance against you, hands wandering your thighs and your stomach. The fingers of the stranger behind you brushes the underneath of your breasts before groping a handful, your mouth parts just a tiny bit and your ass presses firmer against him.
“What the fuck?”
Spinning on the spot at the loss of warmth behind you, the guy who had been dancing with you was on the floor. Rafe towered over you once again, his fingers grip your bicep and he’s pulling you away from the party. You notice no one watches the two of you, music drowning out any chatter around them.
“Rafe! What the hell is your problem!” You growl, wriggling in his grip only causing further pain to your arm. You give up rather quickly and let him drag you back into the house, pushing you through the door of the downstairs bathroom and closing the door behind him.
You press up against the bathroom sink and cross your arms, your eyes drift up and down his body. You can hear the harsh breaths Rafe was letting out, his forehead creased in anger. “I haven’t spoken to you in 3 years… you can’t just show up and manhandle me”.
His eyes meet yours finally and he takes a step closer, not close enough for you to touch him though. His cologne invades your nostrils and your cheeks heat from the memories of his hands on your body. “If you're not going to talk I’m leaving… it’s my birthday”.
His eyes finally drop from your eyes and he takes in your body, starting at your sneakers, drinking in the sight of your slender long legs, stopping for a tad longer on your breasts and then back up to your eyes.
You can hear your heartbeat in your ear, Goosebumps litter your skin and you have to brace yourself against the vanity table, legs wobbling from his gaze. “Happy birthday”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your shoulders relax at the sound of his voice. A voice you hadn’t heard up close in so long, a voice you dreamt about every night. “Thanks”.
The both of you are silent again, the sound of the party behind the door grows louder as the drugs start to lose their effect. “You look nice”
“Thanks”
He takes a step closer again, the toes of his shoes meet yours. The two of you look down briefly and then back at each other, you can smell the scotch on his breath, it's intoxicating.
“Rafe” your fingers touch his bicep softly, electricity flows through the tips of your fingers all the way to your heart. “I’ve missed you” he whispers seconds before his lips are on yours, all the memories you share together hit you like a tidal wave. Your knees buckle but he’s quick to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to his chest.
“Missed you so much” he grunts, lips peppering kisses against yours. Down your jaw until they meet the base of your throat and he sucks hard, a soft whine escapes your parted lips. “Fuck”.
He grips your hips and drops you on the vanity table, pushing himself between your parted thighs, the heels of your shoes press firmly against his backside, pulling him closer to you. “You taste so fucking good”.
“Fuck Rafe… just like that” you whine, his hips roll against yours. His fingers grope and massage the skin of your thigh, pushing up the length of your dress to expose your nude thong. Your arousal soaks the front of your panties, your knees try to lock together in embarrassment but his thick frame holds them out. “I still make you as wet as I did 3 years ago” he groans, with one swift movement he’s ripped them at the crotch. Your pretty wet pussy exposed to his hungry eyes, his large hands tug you closer to the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees in front of you.
The sight has you clenching around nothing, arousal weeping from your needy hole. He places your feet on his shoulders and situates himself between your thighs. “Be a good girl for me y/n… let me eat your pussy for your birthday”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod frantically, the tip of his nose brushes your delicate clit. Your hips jut up to his face, a wicked smile paints itself on his lips. His tongue drops out slowly, the sight of the wet muscle has you whining. “Happy birthday sweetheart”
His hot tongue glides between your folds, your head falling back against the mirror in pure delight. “Oh fuck” you cried, pressing the balls of your feet into his shoulders. His hands grip the outside of your thighs, pulling your legs further apart until he can see your cunt in all its glory, glistening from your arousal. He could see your inner muscles clenching at the sight of him watching you. “Please Rafe” you begged, his lips dropped back to your pussy. Sucking and licking your overly sensitive nub, two of his fingers slip between your opening. Your back arching as he tapped at your g spot, you're sure you can see stars as he works himself on your pussy. “Sweet Jesus… Rafe! Yes yes yes”
The grunt of his approval vibrates against your clit, grinding your hips into his face. Your arousal coats his lower half, nose red from pressing himself so deep into your cunt. “I’m close! Rafe… right there! Holy shittt” your screams can be heard outside the bathroom door, the grip on your thighs are tight as he holds you close to him. You ride out your high, a thin layer sweat coats your chest and forehead. The back of your head hurts from the brutal force of you pushing against the mirror to steady yourself, you watch in silence as Rafe pulls away from you. Just as you open your mouth there are loud bangs on the bathroom door.
“Rafe! Man! Rafe quick Rebecca is outside looking for you!”
He’s out the door in seconds, leaving you alone and feeling dirty. Pressing your thighs closed you let out a silent sob, tears stream your face as you clean yourself up and throw away the ripped panties.
You take a few moments to calm down and slap some sense into yourself, you should have known Rafe was still seeing her. You should have told him to leave the moment he turned up, he was the Rafe you knew.
You exit the bathroom quietly and rush back downstairs in search of a drink, grabbing ahold of the tequila bottle.
As you step onto the patio, your friends quickly greet you. Your eyes stay on Rafe though, ignoring the chatter behind you, your eyes fall to the hand of Rebecca’s, it lay upon his chest in a gesture of adoration. A beautiful diamond placed upon her ring finger, the butterflies in your belly all but die. The beating of your heart is the only thing you hear, he notices where your eyes have landed and he is quick to place his much bigger hand over hers, hiding the beautiful ring from your vision.
He’s engaged.
Rafe Cameron got engaged.
Rafe Cameron had his first engagement and it wasn’t with you…
“Come on let’s go dance” Elle says, noticing the way both you and Rafe stare at each other. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment when Rebecca reaches up to kiss his cheek, bringing the bottle of tequila to your lips. The alcohol burns your throat in the most satisfying way.
Your eyes open to catch the worry that finds its way onto his features as he watches you throw back way too much alcohol for your small body.
“Let’s get fuck up” you exclaim, walking away from your friends and towards the bar your parents had hired for the night.
“4 shots please… actually nah, just give me that bottle of whiskey”.
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satorusugurugurl · 1 month
Note
MORE SATOSUGU X READER PLEASEEE IM OBSESSED W UR WORKS ON THEM <3
-🦢
Shots
Summary: Gojo refused to buy you a drink because he didn't want to take care of yourself while you're drunk, there is a certain dark-haired man that's willing to take care of you in multiple ways.
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x AFAB!Reader x Geto Suguru
Warnings: alcohol consumption, fingering, smut, language, unprotected, creampies, spicy dirty dancing
Word Count: 3,509
A/N: Your wish is my command Nonnie! ✨ (I'm working on one where the boys take care of a wasted reader its so cute 🥹)
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The music was blaring, and lights flashed, illuminating the faces of strangers and people Gojo knew. He sighed, leaning against the wall, his dark, round sunglasses reflecting the multicolored lights as he watched you dancing in the center of the floor. The skin-tight black dress you wore hugged your beautiful body's curves. You were losing yourself in the music, eyes shut as you held your hands above your head, shaking your hips to the beat.
He would love to be out there with you, but you were slightly (definitely) irritated with him. All because he wouldn't let you order another shot, a shot that would turn your lovely buzz into a drunken night, that would involve you crying over otters, begging for chicken nuggets, and most likely end with him holding your hair and rubbing your back while you threw up.
So yeah, was he being a little selfish? Yes. But there was only so much he would learn about otters.
If Suguru were here, it would be a different story. Suguru was a pro at handling you when you were tipsy. He’d pull up otter videos for you to watch, feed you nuggets, and by some miracle, you never threw up with him! Then he would have gladly bought you that shot you were longing for.
But Suguru was on a mission and wouldn’t be home until tomorrow, so you’d have to be angry with him.
While grumbling and pouting, he never noticed the tall figure making their way across the dance floor to you. You swayed your hips, humming happily as the bass vibrated through you; the only thing that would make this better would be the extra shot you’d so prettily begged for. But Satoru was too inexperienced to handle drunk people to cave in. You could have bought yourself your drink, but he insisted you leave your wallet at home, a mistake you’d never make again.
In your attempts not to sulk, you never noticed the stranger behind you until two large hands found their way home on your hips. Your eyes focused on Gojo, still across the club, arms crossed over his chest as he pouted. So, the person holding you was not your boyfriend.
Your fight or flight kicked in, and you were a second away from whirling around to smack them when the unmistakable smell of earthy musk and mint flooded your senses. All the anger melted as the hands gripping your hips squeezed you, massaging the flesh before their hips pressed flush against the fat of your ass. A soft moan passed through your slightly parted lips as you rocked back against him.
“Damn, Princess, you got such a beautiful body.” His smooth voice whispered against your ear. “Your boyfriend sure is lucky.”
“Mhmm, yeah~ they are.”
The man chuckled, rolling his hips harder against you, causing warmth to flood between your legs. “They certainly are.” Those lips that so deliciously teased your ear moved further down, trailing over your neck as his strong hand squeezed your hips tighter. “Would you mind if I danced with you, took you home, and destroyed your pretty pussy as if I hadn’t seen you in two weeks?” those familiar hands slowly began trailing lower towards the hem of your dress, and with each inch, they ventured further down, the more sensitive skin became. So what do you say, princess? That pet name was the last place you needed
“Buy me a shot, and I’ll let you have your way with me.”
At this point, Gojo looked away, taking a second to check his phone, but within that second, you managed to slip away back to the bar. When your boyfriend looked up, finding you missing from the dance floor, he felt panic swell in his chest as his eyes frantically searched for you. You weren’t on the dance floor, so that had to mean you were either stumbling in search of the bathroom or adding that extra shot to his open tab
But out of those options, only one sounded like something a buzzed and slightly pissed off you would do.
Bolted through the crowd, clenching his teeth so hard as he hurried for the bar. Just as he pushed past a rowdy group of drunk girls, he saw the back of your head being thrown back as you took a shot, followed by another, and just to make matters worse; he watched a hand that didn’t belong to him wrapping around your waist, pulling you towards tall figure
His protective instinct kicked in; someone was using the fact that you were buzzed to touch you. Gojo hoped this stranger had no regrets because he was seconds away from committing a felony. Thanks to his long legs, he closed the distance between you and a couple of steps, his hands gripping the stranger's, pulling it promptly off your hip.
“I’m going to assume you like having a hand, and if you want to keep this hand, I’d suggest getting the fuck off my girlfriend.”
“Satoru,” the voice purred, “Last time I checked, she’s my girlfriend, too.”
“Suguru?!”
Now that Gojo was closer and the lights weren't flashing as much, he could make out his best friend's face. Suguru looked down at him, eyeing his best friend before a snarky smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The shock on Gojo’s face was comical, leaving you giggling as you hugged Suguru’s arm. Those dark eyes never left Gojo’s cerulean blue; a dark-haired man lifted a third shot glass off the counter.
“I thought you said you would care for our Princess while I was gone.”
“I have been taking care of her.”
You shook your head with a pout, hugging Suguru tighter. “He wouldn't buy me another shot!” the dark-haired man’s face contorted with confusion and shock.
“Satoru, I clearly remember you telling her you would give her anything she wanted.”
Gojo ran a hand down his face. “Suguru, you know I have no experience taking care of drunk people!” he eyed you, seeing the glassy look in your eyes as Sugueu pulled you tighter against him. “I was trying to keep her buzzed.”
“Sounds like a lot of excuses to me.”
“Ya’ know what stop with the attitude.” Satoru sighed, watching Suguru chuckle. “Oh yeah, laugh it up! Because I'm not going to be the one taking care of her drunk ass tonight! That's all on you!”
Hearing those words left Suguru slightly stunned as he stared at the dark lenses of Satoru’s glasses. While he couldn't see the frustration in his eyes, he could read it in his body language—from the way he tapped his foot aggressively on the floor to how he crossed his arms over his chest. It was abundantly clear that Gojo did not look forward to having to take care of you when you were tipsy.
Something Suguru was going to make sure he regretted.
“So you aren't going to help me take care of her?”
“Nope! This is all on you since you want to get her wasted, giving her shot after shot.”
“You sure about that?”
“Posi-fuckin-lutely!”
Suguru hummed and grabbed your face with one hand, his fingers gently squeezing you, forcing you to look up. “Hear, that Princess?” Your lips slightly parted as he brought the glass full of clear liquid to your mouth. The cold glass chilled your heated skin. As Suguru licked his lips, his eyes darkened with lust, as did the look on your face. “You’re all mine tonight.” In a swift movement, Suguru tilted your head back, pouring the glass contents into your mouth, and you quickly swallowed.
With the contents of the glass down your throat, Suguru pulled the glass away and smirked, turning his attention towards Satoru while his angry demeanor seemed to have melted away. You relished in the way the white eyebrows knitted together at the nearly erotic sight of Suguru helping you with the shot and the words his best friend had said. Gojo was suddenly beginning to wonder what Suguru had planned for your drunken state, but the mischievous look as he gently patted your cheek and offered you another drink made his pats feel a bit too tight.
Which was a ridiculous reaction! You were intoxicated, and the two meant would most likely be dragging you out here soon. But much to his surprise, when your feet finally started to ache, you were coherent and fine, walking out holding Suguru’s hand. Hell, your eyes were met nearly as glass when you all loaded into Satoru’s car, and he started driving. There was no conversing of otters, tears, or pleads for him to pull over so you could throw up.
Nope, it was nothing like that of the sorts.
Instead, soft moans and sharp breath intakes resonated from the back seat. That’s when he realized he might have made a colossal mistake. That thought became a reality when you three returned to the house, where Suguru had you over his shoulder, dragging you to the bedroom, and the second Gojo locked the front door.
“Hey!” He shouted, kicking his shoes off and rushing after you both to the bedroom. “Wait for me!”
“Sorry T-Toru!” You cried out as Suguru threw you on the bed, climbing over you. “You said you weren’t going to take care of me, remember~?”
“Y-Yeah, drunk you!”
Suguru hummed, looking over at Gojo, who stood in the doorway; his jaw dropped as he watched clothes being degraded and hands fisting in hair. “Oooh~ yeah~ she’s buzzed, but I wasn’t getting her drunk. Someone just assumed that I was doing that.” When your tits bounced free, and Suguru undid the button to his jeans, pushing them down far enough to free his aching cock, Satoru just stared at you both completely flabbergasted.
“B-But I was watching you force her to take more shots!”
“Of water.”
“Huh?”
“I was giving her shots of water.”
Your legs were forced apart, and Satoru watched as Suguru’s fingers hooked under your thong, pulling the flimsy fabric to the side. “Water?” He asked, too stunned to honestly believe he was telling the truth. “You were making her take shots of water?” A wet, squelching sound flooded the room as your back arched off the bed with a soft gasp.
“Of course, it was water.” Suguru held one hand between your thighs, fingering you as the other came down next to your head, caging you underneath him as Gojo watched his best friend roll his finger fuck you. “Why do you think I have such an easy time taking cause of her when she’s been drinking? I always make sure she stays hydrated.”
“T-That’s not fair!”
“Not my fault you didn’t ask what she was drinking or what we were doing,” Suguru said nonchalantly as he pulled his fingers out, replacing them with his cock.
“Ahh!!”
“O-Oh fuck—” Satoru lost his concentration for a second before shaking his head. “Still not fair. You could have been honest with me!”
Your nails dug into Suguru’s back as you bucked your hips up against him. “Mhmm—fuck Suguru!” You cried out as he set a slow pace, his hand gripping your sides, slowly fucking into you, making the most of the time he’d been away.
Gojo pouted like a spoiled child making his way to the recliner facing the bed, his fist resting on his chin as he watched Geto slowly fucking you into the mattress. He could have gone about things differently this evening, but there was something kind of sexy about watching you both fuck while he sat off to the side. He didn’t need to put in a lot of effort; he was just way there, watching his best friend fuck you roughly as he stroked his cock through his pants.
God, it was so sexy watching you moan, how your legs shook as Suguru lazily fucked you into the mattress. It was erotic, toe-curling, and it made his hand grope his cock firmly through his pants. Watching you stare into Suguru’s dark eyes with pure lust was intoxicating, and the way Suguru stared back at you left his head spinning. Satoru loved being between you and involved in making you feel good.
But this was something different, something new, and Satoru liked it.
“S-Sugu~! You cried out as he grabbed both your legs, placing them over his shoulders as he fucked you like a flashlight. “Ah!! Fuck! Fuuuck!”
“Yeah~ does that feel good, Princess~?” He snarled dark iris’ focusing on Satoru, who had his pants tugged down, his cock throbbing as he jerked himself off. “Don’t tell me Satoru was neglecting you, sweet girl.”
Satoru watched as your dress was completely tugged off, along with Suguru’s shirt, his hand moving up and down his shaft faster. “I t-took good care of her—nngh.” Suguru scoffed, the muscles in his ass clenching as he pulled out of you before shoving his entire length back in.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah, it is.”
Your gasp drew both men’s attention back to you. Your eyes were rolling back with each deep thrust. "O-Oh fuck—Suguru!”
"That's right," Suguru growled out, pressing kisses along your bare breasts. “moan out my name." He smiled up at Gojo before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. "Mhmm, fuck, you taste so sweet, Princess.”
“Ooh god,” Gojo watched as your eyes fluttered while Suguru reached down, rubbing teasing circles around your clit. Satoru knew he could please and satisfy your needs, but your body language told him you longed for Suguru. "O-Oh, fuck god, I missed your cock so bad!”
Satoru knew you loved them equally, even though he knew it wouldn’t stop him from teasing you. “Well shit—“ he moaned out, stroking his cock faster. “Way to make a guy feel like Chopliver.” He said with faux sorrow, causing your eyes to dart in his direction.
“Toru—” you whimpered, biting your lip as tears prick your eyes. "Toru honey, I-I'm sorry, I-didn’t m-mea—fuuuuck!" Your head rolled back, your eyes leaving Satoru’s.
"Such a slut for Suguru; you can’t even look at me," Satoru said while twisting his wrist along the base of his cock. "Come on, Suguru, you gotta make up for missed time, and I’m not in there with you two. Come on fuck her harder, fuck her to the point the bed almost breaks."
"Satoru—come on now."
"It wasn't a fuckin question, Suguru. I’m being serious." Satoru stroked his cock faster, growling. "If she wants to be fucked by you so bad, fuck her into next week."
For the first time all evening, Suguru looked slightly flustered. He hadn’t anticipated Satoru to get so into watching you both. If anything, he thought he’d be bitching and crying about wanting to join in within the first two minutes. But he had surprised you both as he happily leaned back in his chair, jerking off and enjoying the show. And if it was a show he wanted, it was a show he would get. Suguru took a deep breath before he slammed into you, sending your back arching off the mattress with a gasp.
“There we go~ haaah, much better!” Your head lolled to the side, eyes focusing on Satoru as he stroked his leaking cock. “Hey, pretty girl, like what you see?”
“Yeah~ your cock is so pretty, Toru, I-I nngh I wa—aah!”
Suguru grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Princess, remember he didn’t want to care for you?" Suguru asked, kissing you softly. "I'm the one fucking you right now. Not Satoru but me." he snarled against your ear.
"Awww is someone doubting their skills?" There was a cocky tone to his voice as he looked at you. "You can look at me; don’t let Suguru tell you what to do.”
He held to cock in his hand, slowly stroking it as Suguru glared back. "Sure, you can look, but don’t forget who's making you feel good.” Satoru watched as his best friend shoved two fingers in your mouth. "So focus on me, good girl." Hearing Suguru talk like that had Suguru stroking his cock faster with a groan.
“M-mmmhm!” You gasped as Geto shoved his fingers into her mouth. You moaned, your tongue twirled around his fingers, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. You looked drunk off pleasure, and it was a look both Satoru and Suguru found themselves lost in.
"God, look at her. Seriously sucking my fingers down like a slut." Suguru whispered as he promptly pulled them out of your mouth with a pop. "She’s such a good girl, isn’t she, Satoru?” He continued thrusting in and out of you, using his saliva-slick fingers to rub circles around your nipples.
"Fuck yeah, she is; you gonna make her cum hard?” Gojo said, watching as Suguru’s thrusts became harder and deeper, his hips moving faster and faster, slamming against your g-spot with every thrust.
"Yeah," Suguru whispered against your lips. "I’m going to make her squirt harder than you." He ran his fingers that were teasing your breasts up to your throat, wrapping his hand around your neck.
"Oh, you wish!”
"Such a good girl; scream my name when you soak the sheets, okay.” Suguru purred in your ear, his eyes with the lust coursing through his veins.
Satoru watched, eyes focused on you as you arched your back off the bed as you came. You squirted hard, doing exactly what Suguru told you to do. “Suguru!!” You screamed out, eyes rolling back as you soaked Suguru, your walls clamping down on him as he froze above you, hands gripping the sheets, holding them tight as he came with you flooding your insides full of cum.
Watching both his partners freeze up, losing yourselves in orgasmic bliss, that sight in itself was more than enough to send Satoru over the edge with you both. He squeezed his shaft as he threw his head back, ropes of cum coating his chest as he watched you and Suguru exchange a deep passionate kiss. It made him smile lazily as he slumped back against the recliner, shutting his eyes.
You broke the kiss with Suguru, panting heavily as you glanced at Satoru, who was relaxing against the chair. He looked flushed and peaceful, a little too peaceful for your liking. You smirked as you turned Suguru’s head towards the side.
“Satoru~” you purred, drawing the attention of his cerulean gaze towards you. “I’ve decided you might not want to take care of me, but I want to take care of you.”
Satoru swallowed hard, sitting up with a grin. “Ooh, you’re going to take care of me?” Geto eyed you skeptically for a second before he saw that glimmer in your eyes, a glimmer with the promos of mischief.
“Hmm, I wouldn’t say take care of is the right phrase—maybe play with you is a better term.”
“Play with me in a sexy way, right?” Silence. “R-Right?”
Suguru slowly pulled out of you and sat back, patting the bed. “Come on, Satoru~ join us on the bed.” Gojo swallowed hard, not like the way things were playing out.
“I-I uhm, I think I’m okay right here.”
“Oh, don’t be like that! Come on, join in the fun. I’m not going to bite you.”
Reluctantly, Satoru stood up and walked towards the bed. When he pressed his knees into the mattress, he realized joining the two of you had been a mistake. He didn’t have his infinity up, giving you the chance to pull him onto before rolling so he was beneath you. Gojo just stared up at you as you began moving your hips teasingly over his cock.
“I may not be biting you tonight, but I am going to milk you until you cry.”
Geto shifted himself behind you, grinding his cock over your ass while resting his chin on your shoulder to look down at Satoru. “I, however, made no such promise about not biting.” He grinned, running his tongue over his teeth.
Gojo swallowed hard as you pinned his arms above his head. He wasn’t sure what was worse—taking care of you drunk when you cutely cried over otters. Or having both his partners making him cum so many times he thought he was going to die. He should have just bought you that shot.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai
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amywritesthings · 2 months
Text
in the wrong. / levi x f!reader
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for @levievent #levimonth24. (day one: pre-canon, first time)
pairing: gang leader!levi ackerman x military police!reader word count: 2.4k summary: You're Military Police. He's public enemy number one. Getting involved with one another is wrong.
tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, in the canon of 'a choice with no regrets', smut, enemies to lovers, military brutality mention, first time, bottom!levi, virgin!levi credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics
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And so it goes—
There’s no disputing if waiting here in the dead of night is right or wrong.
Leaving your post, forcing your colleagues to pick up the slack — it’ll catch up with you eventually.
Military Police stationed within the Underground City is about as much of an oxymoron as it comes. You see the irony of walking these streets as the symbols of order when it’s a place that thrives in disorder. 
Your superiors don’t wish to save these people.
You — your squadron — will do nothing here.
(But he could.)
Meeting with the leader of the most notorious gang in the city started out as an accident, really. 
You’d minded yourself down here, still trying to do your job when you could: helping elderly people walk their rotting groceries to their door; aiding a young child who found themselves lost, only to witness the dilapidated home they came from; smuggling your own rations down from the surface to feed the sick.
In their eyes — wrong.
In his — confusion.
If you ever came into contact with the perpetrator known as Levi, then you were meant to engage.
Albeit fast on his feet and even faster with a weapon, his ever-growing group of goons were the Military Police’s biggest enemy.
You’d just spotted a redhead doing her best to creep up one of the staircases towards the surface, assuming no one was watching.
There are people up there, you remember saying.
Her wide eyes stared back at you with uncertainty, like perhaps getting her attention was a trick to set her up, but you’d managed to grab her by the scruff of her dirtied vest.
The small girl made a noise of protest, but you did your best to press a finger to your lips:
Silent.
Pulling her back into the shadows with you had been the smart move — the unit at the top of the stairs trudged down the stairs and into the Underground pathway, presumably to cause trouble.
They always did.
You held onto the stranger until the unit disappears, letting go only once the place is clear. 
The girl turned around, seemingly breathless. “You… why?”
You didn't know.
“I don’t know,” you confessed, blinking between her face and the pathway. Paranoid. “Those two are pieces of work. Nasty. Would’ve had your damn head on a platter.”
“So you saved my life?” she asked, and the musical naivety of her voice squeezed your aching stomach.
“It wasn’t that noble,” you promised softly. “Just… be more careful.”
She realized as seconds pass: you’re letting her go.
There’s nothing to arrest her for.
The people down here suffer enough.
When she left, you thought it was the last time you’d ever see her.
.
.
— —
.
.
  It isn’t.
.
.
— —
.
.
  “The hell is an MP doing here, Isa?” 
You can’t say. You’re not sure.
The redhead, a common recurring figure in your time patrolling the Underground, seems to have taken a liking to you when she surely shouldn’t.
Isabel Magnolia, you learn, is her name.
Talking to you about her life, asking questions about the surface, wondering if there’s a better life up there—
She’s a part of a found family she definitely shouldn’t be telling you about.
You explain that, while the sun is beautiful, the surface isn’t much better sometimes.
If there’s a better life, then clearly you wouldn’t know it.
You’re stuck down here, too, whether you’d like to admit it or not.
Perhaps by choice — you enlisted for a reason — but nonetheless stuck.
She’s so cheerful. Trusting. 
You hate that for her.
(Someone could take advantage. Doesn’t she know that?)
Yet when Isabel grabs your hand one day and excitedly pulls you down an alleyway, telling you she has to show you something, you wonder if this is the moment where your stupidity catches up to you with a final blow to the head.
So it begs the question while you’re standing in an oddly pristine, clean-to-the-edges apartment in the middle of the city where two boys stare at you like you’re the devil incarnate:
What the hell is an MP doing here?
An ashy-haired boy yelps from his spot at a round dining table, catching a second dark-haired boy’s attention. He whips around, the whites of his eyes growing while he stares directly at you.
Immediately you recognize the cold stare, the raven-black fringe sweeping against them.
A smaller frame for a man but nevertheless daunting.
Billowing white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His hands are busy scrubbing dishes at the sink of their quaint kitchenette.
The one they call Levi.
“This is the girl who saved me a few months ago,” Isabel chirps like it’s nothing, happily tugging you further into the apartment.
Your uniform feels constricting, like it’s threatening to choke you out.
“You never said it was a goddamn MP, Isa,” the lankier boy whisper-shouts as he stands from the table, his head whipping between the other two. “Levi? The hell do we do?”
Levi’s silent, observing you.
“Isabel, I should go,” you murmur to your odd friend, looking over the ginger warily. “They’re right. I shouldn’t be here.”
“But why not?” Isabel asks with confusion. “You’re not like them. Furlan, she’s really not, she’s actually really—”
“You’re the one who saved her ass from MPs?”
Levi’s voice, smooth like honey and deep like a rumble, cuts through your panic.
You turn your chin to regard him, lips parted with an apology you shouldn’t owe.
“She was getting too close to the stairwell,” you confess softly to him, clenching your fists at your sides. “I know how the MPs treat people down here. I didn’t — I couldn’t let something happen to her.”
“Why?” he asks abruptly, eyes narrowing.
Isn’t that the question of the hour:
Why are you trying to get yourself fired and tossed down here with the rest of them?
“Because it… was the right thing to do.”
He makes a noise, something of a tch, before picking up a fourth tea cup.
.
.
— —
.
.
  If your colleagues knew you spent the better part of your shifts in the Underground talking to their number-one public enemy, with your backs against adjacent brick walls — you facing the street, him in the shadows of an alleyway — they wouldn’t hesitate.
Execution style, side by side.
You confess the routes of your brethren.
You warn them of the dangers of different colleagues that want nothing more than to hurt people, to use their position of power for worse.
It takes time — months upon months — but eventually his group grows stronger than your unit.
They could very well kill you themselves, if they wanted.
Maybe you’re like Isabel with the desperation to connect.
Maybe you find yourself hating the animals your colleagues become under the guise of an endless night.
Levi meets with you weekly, if not daily, by this point.
For the good of his friends, he claims. Nothing more.
You don’t blame him.
(Yet the more you talk to him, learn about what he’s built, what he’s about, the less you feel like returning to the sun.)
.
.
— —
.
.
  He likes tea.
That much you’ve gathered in your time sitting in the living kitchenette of their apartment.
You’ll never forget the change in his expression, usually so stoic and emotionless, when you produced a small bag from under your emerald cloak late one evening.
“The traders down here don’t carry these blends,” you tell him, pushing the bag towards him.
His eyes squint, observing the brown pouch with confusion, before reaching to delicately unravel the tie holding it together.
Levi lets out a gentle huff when the aroma hits him, face smoothing with recognition.
Fresh leaves. 
“Why?”
It’s a question you’ve even asked yourself.
You get things for Furlan and Isabel all the time, their requests for surface goods fairly frequent, but—
“Because you never ask for anything,” you confess. “And it’s the least I can do.”
“But why?” he questions again, softer this time.
His gaze flickers to yours.
Your throat clenches with the truth.
“I don’t know.”
A lie.
.
.
— —
.
.
  You’re meant to be patrolling the streets of the Underground City in the dead of night.
Another lie.
All you’ve learned to do is hide, steal, and lie.
Yet nothing feels closer to the truth than Levi letting you into the small, cramped apartment.
Opening his home to you.
The enemy.
“Furlan and Isabel are elsewhere tonight,” he confesses under his breath when he closes the door.
“Elsewhere?” you ask him quietly. “Are they safe?”
“You would know if they weren’t.”
You step forward, anticipating the same song and dance you’ve played for over a year now.
Instead of dancing with you, playing the game, Levi stays put. 
It forces you chest to chest, eye to eye, and suddenly you realize just how blue those gray eyes really are.
Stormy, like a sky he’ll never see.
Something shifts in his expression. Something lighter, tangible, as he takes a slow inhale through his nose.
You shift on impulse, angling closer, until you feel the heat of his face.
“Can’t,” he states, like you know what he’s saying.
By now, you do.
“I know,” you whisper, and those eyes dart lower.
Cheeks.
Nose.
Lips.
“Shouldn’t,” he argues to no one but himself when he leans closer. 
His breath tickles your face.
“Wrong,” you agree, accidentally brushing your lips to his.
A single act opens the floodgates.
Both pairs of hands jump as your lips smash into one another’s.
His palm cradles the back of your head while yours guides his cheek closer, directing the angle of the kiss.
With a purposeful push, he slams you into the front door, caging you in and causing stars to flash behind your eyelids.
You’re already undoing the straps of your uniform with haste — he may have stolen ODM gear in the time you’ve known him, but you’re not confident he knows how to disrobe a military uniform.
He seems grateful, because he grunts against your lips and flicks his tongue against your lower lip in thanks. You part your lips obediently.
Can’t, but you’re still hopping up into his arms the second you free your lower half of white uniform trousers.
Shouldn’t, but he catches you with ease, digging his free hand into the flesh of your ass while he pivots and walks with you in his arms.
Wrong, but he drops down to his couch anyway, letting you sit in his lap.
There’s no time for decorum.
His hand blindly dips down your lower belly and slips under the fabric of your panties, groaning when he realizes you’ve been wet since you saw him.
You make the tiniest noise, a strangled moan at best, and you feel it right against your lips:
A smirk. 
Brief and fleeting, but you felt it.
Lazily dragging his fingertips in a circle around your clit, your breath becomes stagnated. Shaky.
Your bare thighs clench around his, trying to keep your wits about you, but his hand only proceeds faster to ruin those efforts.
“Off,” you weakly state, reaching between you to pathetically tug at his own trousers.
Levi pulls away from your mouth, staring up at you in his lap. “That’s—”
“What I want,” you interrupt, and you see his throat bob with a swallow.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, and it feels like the closest you’ve ever gotten to knowing the essence of him.
“You don’t have to,” you promise. “I do.”
Once, fumbling at the cadet barracks.
It was awkward and quick and unremarkable.
Yet the way Levi’s eyes widen with recognition, you already know this is what you want — him, every fragment of him, hidden away from the world.
Pushing him to the couch cushions, you raise your hips to help him push down his trousers and underwear.
His cock springs free and his hisses at the contrast of the cool air and his hot skin.
You take advantage of the moment, wrapping your hand around him.
The way he whines when your hand leisurely pumps will be burned into the back of your skull.
“Are you sure?”
His question manages to weave itself through the hazy maze of your mind.
Glancing down at him, you note how flushed his cheeks have become; how his chest rises and falls under that flowing white shirt. He looks utterly wrecked without having to do much of anything.
“Are you sure?” you ask in return, giving your answer rhetorically.
Panting, the dark-haired boy nods.
Certain.
So are you.
“Just touch me,” you tell him, and Levi leaps at the damn opportunity to do so.
He raises up from the couch to loop his palm around your neck, dragging you down with him into a searing kiss. You moan into it, gently nudging the tip of him to your entrance.
When his hand returns to your clit, eager to draw those noises out of you, it only makes it that much easier to slowly push yourself down onto his length.
Both of your mouths drop open, wide with a soundless shout, as you ease him fully into you.
Wrong.
Over and over, the word plays in your mind.
Levi groans as you drag your body up, then down, beginning a tentative rhythm.
Wrong.
Nothing fills you like him.
Nothing fills you like this.
He lets you set the pace as you fuck him on his couch, the sounds of your pleasure mixing in the midnight air.
Faster.
Harder.
His hand grips your hip so hard it could leave a bruise.
You don’t care.
He groans a semblance of your name, something he rarely does, and squeezes harder.
Close.
If he’s never done this, then you know he won’t last long.
With your own climax coming at you with a vengeance, you can’t find a reason to care.
Suddenly you feel it — the wave rises so fast and falls that you don’t have time to warn him.
Within seconds you cum around him, violently shuddering around him as you cry against his mouth.
The sheer force of it causes Levi to gasp sharply, hips slamming abruptly into you so he’s buried deep—
He doesn’t have time to warn you, either.
He cums just as hard, sealing the loud moan with a kiss to your lips.
You still your hips, spent — his arms catch you when you crumble against his chest, desperately trying to catch your breath.
You’ve passed it: the point of no return, forced to confront a choice with no regrets.
The aftermath, euphoria clouding judgment, hasn’t quite hit yet.
Wrong.
(Neither of you care.)
.
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author's note:
Thank you so much for reading! This one shot was unbeta'd and written in two hours so I hope this insane "I woke up with this idea and really wanted to participate" story made you as sweaty as it made me this morning.
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kosmikowboj · 4 months
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you know now knowing that as kids shawn played bassoon and gus played clarinet it’s truly criminal there was never an episode involving a local symphony orchestra. like, one of the principal musicians dies—call it the principal flutist—and foul play is suspected, so shawn convinces the chief to let them go undercover. gus is still using his old clarinet, but henry got rid of shawn’s bassoon like ten years ago so shawn makes the department rent him a really nice one. lassiter’s huge qualm this episode is that he thinks shawn and gus are making a mockery of the beauty that is classical music. shawn actually feels very strongly about the case because one of the pieces they’re performing has a majestic bassoon solo that he was supposed to play in the eighth grade until he got stiffed for first chair. gus and jules are the only ones being normal.
lassie and jules end up arresting the second chair flute player because it seems like a jealousy case, but shawn isn’t convinced. he goes down the rabbit hole and uncovers this crazy romance subplot about how the principal bassoonist and the principal flutist were sleeping together, but then the flutist slept with someone else in the orchestra—call it a percussionist (they’re always doing that)—and so he killed her. shawn claims he learned this through the instruments speaking to him. the high stakes moment of the episode is when the bassoonist tries to kill the percussionist, but our fave crew end up saving the day.
the episode ends with shawn and gus playing in the concert and shawn doing the bassoon solo since the principal was arrested for murder. biggest plot twist of all is that he actually sounds pretty good.
another random note is that lassie has it out for the second chair flute because he used to play oboe when he was younger and got relentlessly bullied by the flutes. shawn finds this out and forces bonding between the two of them by sharing his bassoon trauma. lassie does not seem to care. because the percussionist gets injured in the scuffle near the end of the episode, shawn convinces the orchestra director to let lassie play the triangle in the concert. later on in the series, there’s a throwaway line about how shawn can’t get ice cream with gus after a case because he’s busy. there’s a honk outside the psych office and shawn jogs out, gets in lassie’s car, and they go to community orchestra together.
oh also the henry subplot of the episode is that he and the director of the orchestra go way back for some reason and that’s the only reason that shawn and gus are allowed to go undercover. shawn is pissed at henry for getting rid of his bassoon and henry tries to turn it into a lesson about responsibility that is immediately undermined by the department renting one for him.
do you see my vision
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