#writing this as if we had lost the title already
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trossibop ¡ 2 years ago
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quick rantttt hihi um so. i just listened to a podcast about bayern this season and someone was making a point that this struggle to win the title for bayern is just the end of an era, and it now makes us realise how much of an extraordinary (as in not usual) club bayern was. to dominate the liga for a decade and continually have this big terrifying image around europe since forever; now that its (practically) over, bayern returns to being just a normal club. and to me its true! it had to end somewhere, and i even think it will further create motivation for the team to really fight for the titles. i dont know if im clear enough but i dont care if dortmund wins the liga this year or any year - if they do, good for them, they would have deserved it. for now its only really depressing as bayern fan but it had to stop somewhere. and at least it while make the bundesliga interesting!! im sure everyone will be more invested. this sounds so condescending and nasty but we have to get used to losing again and know that its not the end of the world😭😭
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coffeeandcalligraphy ¡ 1 year ago
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trying to turn my shit day around by cosplaying as harrison matthew frost
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captainfantasticalright ¡ 8 months ago
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In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:
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It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.
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Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.
Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.
Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).
But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.
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Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **
On collaborating together:
Here is a video of Sir Terry saying why he chose to collaborate with Neil, another video talking about the technical difficulties of writing a book when the two of them where miles apart ,and some pages from Interzone Magazine Issue 207 published December 2006:
An Interview with Sir Terry Pratchett and his works- and Neil Gaiman, where he shortly addresses the process of writing Good Omens.
Terry shortly mentions,
“Neil doesn't rule out another book with me and he was good to write with...yep, it could happen. With anyone else? I don't know, but probably not.?”
Neil says,
"Terry took that initial 5,000 words of mine and ran it through the computer (because I’d lost the files in a computer crash) and made it the first 10,000 words, and it was definitely Good Omens at that point. Neither one thing nor the other, but a third thing.”
"I think Terry could do a very good impersonation of me if he needed to, and I could do a very good impersonation of him; so we knew the area of the Venn diagram in which we were working. But mostly the book found its own voice very quickly. It helped that we were both scarred by the William books when we were kids...”
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And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).
More about the writing process:
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Terry took the first 5,000 words and typed them into his word processor, and by the time he had finished they were the first 10,000 words. Terry had borrowed all the things about me that he thought were amusing, like my tendency back then to wear sunglasses even when it wasn't sunny, and given them, along with a vintage Bentley, to Crawleigh, who had now become Crowley. The Satanic Nurses were Satanic Nuns.
The book was under way.
We wrote the first draft in about nine weeks. Nine weeks of gloriously long phone calls, in which we would read each other what we'd written, and try to make the other one laugh. We'd plot, delightedly, and then hurry off the phone, determined to get to the next good bit before the other one could. We'd rewrite each other, footnote each other's pages, sometimes even footnote each other's footnotes. We would throw characters in, hand them off when we got stuck. We finished the book and decided we would only tell people a little about the writing process - we would tell them that Agnes Nutter was Terry's, and the Four Horsemen (and the Other Four Motorcyclists) were mine.
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From the introduction to William the Antichrist:
“In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.
It felt like a story with legs.
Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”
William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***
“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.
Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.
But the spirit of Just William was never far away.
The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.
If you want to read more details about William The Antichrist, here are some slides I made.
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Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)
 Then I was reading The Jew of Malta by Kit Marlowe, and it has a bit where the three (cartoonishly evil) Jews compare notes on all the well-poisoning and suchlike they’d done that day, and as a Jew who never quite gets his act together, it occurred to me that if I were the third Jew I’d just be apologizing for having failed to poison a well… And suddenly I had the opening of a book. It would be called William the Antichrist. And it would begin with three Demons in a graveyard… (x).
“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.” -Neil Gaiman
"Neil and I had known each other since early 1985. Doing it was our idea, not a publisher's deal." "I think this is an honest account of the process of writing Good Omens. It was fairly easy to keep track of because of the way we sent discs to one another, and because I was Keeper of the Official Master Copy I can say that I wrote a bit over two thirds of Good Omens. However, we were on the phone to each other every day, at least once. If you have an idea during a brainstorming session with another guy, whose idea is it? One guy goes and writes 2,000 words after thirty minutes on the phone, what exactly is the process that's happening? I did most of the physical writing because: 1) I had to. Neil had to keep Sandman going -- I could take time off from the DW; 2) One person has to be overall editor, and do all the stitching and filling and slicing and, as I've said before, it was me by agreement -- if it had been a graphic novel, it would have been Neil taking the chair for exactly the same reasons it was me for a novel; 3) I'm a selfish bastard and tried to write ahead to get to the good bits before Neil. Initially, I did most of Adam and the Them and Neil did most of the Four Horsemen, and everything else kind of got done by whoever -- by the end, large sections were being done by a composite creature called Terryandneil, whoever was actually hitting the keys. By agreement, I am allowed to say that Agnes Nutter, her life and death, was completely and utterly mine. And Neil proudly claims responsibility for the maggots. Neil's had a major influence on the opening scenes, me on the ending. In the end, it was this book done by two guys, who shared the money equally and did it for fun and wouldn't do it again for a big clock." "Yes, the maggot reversal was by me, with a gun to Neil's head (although he understood the reasons, it's just that he likes maggots). There couldn't be blood on Adam's hands, even blood spilled by third parties. No-one should die because he was alive." -("Terry Pratchett : His World”)
(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).
Another wonderful insight with Rob Wilkins in "The Worlds of Terry Pratchett".
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*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.
** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.
***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.
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sh1-n0bu ¡ 4 months ago
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♡︎ 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙩3 ♡︎
characters: sub!dragons x dom!gn!reader
warnings: established relationship, dragons have vent that hide their two cocks anatomy, eating out, fingering, handjob, squirting, light mind break, exhibitionism, biting, blood/injury mention
notes: part 1, part 2 is here respectively. genuinely didn’t think this idea would be liked so much it would have two more parts lmao. wasn’t really thinking of writing part 3 since i was all outta thoughts but here we are. dividers from benkeibear
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it had been a while since the relationship between you and your beloved dragon had become official. of course, there were bumps along the way and you two still wished to keep your relationship a secret. who knows whatever the hell the court of elders would say or how people would react to you once they find out that it was you who was chosen by the dragon himself specifically to be his mate and not some higher ranking diplomat or a royalty. mainly, it was to keep you safe.
the dragon could give less than two fucks about his title or fame. title be damned, he could care less of society’s judging eyes and open ears on him. he could care less about how the courtiers would argue against his decision. all he cared about was you and he wanted to keep you safe and away from harm. the courtiers included. most specifically the courtiers; he dealt with their shit for long enough on a daily basis, he didn’t wanted them to find out about his most favored treasure and meddle with his personal life.
but mostly, it gets annoying when he wanted to keep his beloved by his side yet his beloved is away on a business trip. a very long one. it has been what? over a month and a week and the poor dragon was desperate to have you by his side again. every moment he catches himself recalling of past moments with you, he finds his tail swishing side to side, a low pleased purr in his throat. or he would recall of moments of comedy; such as when you tripped and fell down the stairs in front of him at your first meeting, how you stuff your face full of your favorite treats like a chipmunk, or when you accidentally drank a cup of hot tea, mistaking it for a cold one and burning your tongue. the dragon finds himself chuckling at that, snorting, turning to his side as he calls out your name to recall said events out loud. only for his wagging tail to droop and a sad whine escape him when he remembered, right; you were away on a business trip and hasn’t returned yet.
his mood was noticed of course. it’s easy to be noticed when all eyes have always been on you since the very beginning of your life. the courtiers asked him of what has been weighing on his mind lately, the soldiers that guard his grand office bowing in respect as their eyes look over him with concern, how the people have already started a rumor amongst themselves.
“the great dragon found a mate they said”, “the great dragon perhaps lost a loved one recently”, “the great dragon’s mood downing reason is his nature. he is a dragon after all, he would surely miss his kin” great dragon this, great dragon that — all he wanted was you. finding himself stuck in the middle, he could barely find the time to even focus on his work. words on the paper in front of him meddled and meshed together into a white and black mess. he could read the words but it wouldn’t register in his brain. instead, what occupied his mind and heart was you with your bright smile that was like the warmth of a sunlight on his skin after a millennia of snowstorm. letting out a sigh for the nth time this past hour, he turns to look at the calendar hung on the wall of his office. a bright red marker circling the 23rd of the next month, making his tail droop as a defeated whine escapes his lips. how could he ever wait patiently for your return?
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walking through the long corridors of the grand building where the dragon stays seated for work, you whistle a few tunes as you pass by some of the workers or nod your head in greeting when a guard walks by. the workers of this place knows you by now; or at least have memorized your features. you were a common visitor to the dragon, either called by him or coming by your own accord to tend to some matters. whether it be your lazy work ethnics or the large contracts you’ve struck — no one really knows. no one is yet to suspect that you two are in a relationship. not yet.
knocking on the grand oak doors with dragon symbols carved onto the outside, you push the door open as you saunter inside. the moment the door closes behind you with a soft click! you were nearly tackled over onto the floor as a scaled limb tightly wraps around your thigh. wet kisses trail from your neck down to your collarbone, the tail on your thigh squeezing harshly enough to the point it nearly cuts off your blood flow. laughing, you return the death squeeze, running a hand through his hair as you kiss the base of his horn that had materialized.
“i’ve missed you too, my love” you manage to breathe out, voice nearly a gasp with the way he was about to topple you over with his bigger frame. you could see the shine of his scales on his jaw and chin, the hardened skin having grown vastly in number due to the sudden shift in his mood. and if the room were any but darker, you were sure that his eyes and horns were pulsing a soft glow. just like the thrumming of his heartbeat you could feel over the material of his clothes.
before you could tell him to get off and allow you to breathe, his lips met yours in a manner that was as if he was trying to smash his skull with yours, merging the bones together. he must have been lonely, hands cupping your cheeks tenderly while he desperately kissed your lips over and over as if trying to merge your bodies together. his usually cold veneer be damned, he had missed your scent, your lips, the warmth of your body — you.
the great dragon had missed his beloved mate.
forked tongue licking at your lips, he impatiently pushes the wet muscle inside your mouth. licking at the cavern, messily slurping on your tongue and dismissing your choked noises, your dragon pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, preening his scales with a low whimper. pulling his tongue out, seeing the saliva connecting you together, he lets out a drawn out whine, grinding his crotch against your own.
“missed you… missed your scent and everything… so bad” he mumbles, a low rumble in his chest as he drags you towards his desk by the tail that was hooked around your thigh. you let out a grunt, almost loosing balance but following along. sharpened claws fumble with his belt and pants, eager yet impatient as he leaves a few tears and holes into the material. disregarding his clothes half heartedly, he lays down on the desk, claws grasping at the edge of the wood as he props his legs up, showing you the weeping slit of his vent. he was already so wet and aroused, acting like he was in heat as his tail tugs you closer to himself.
“look at you, my love. we just shared a hug and a kiss and you’re already dripping wet” you tease him, fingers spreading his vent open as usual. like an excited puppy seeking for validation, his two cocks slip out, reaching for your hand.
“mhm. all wet and eager for you, mate♡︎” he nods enthusiastically, claws leaving the desk to spread his cent open further for you to stare at. just seeing him like this, in a compromising manner with slitted pupils blown wide; it was enough to make your mouth salivate. the fuzzy end of his tail tap against your calf, already telling you to hurry up and bury your face into his vent, take his cock into your mouth, any cock, anything — he doesn’t mind it. the poor pent up dragon just wanted your touch, craving for the high that you deliver so expertly, knowing his body better than he does.
“my my, thank you for the meal” you coo, patting the inside of his thigh gently. hooking the beck of your leg into his chair behind you, you pull it close to yourself before plopping down. the soft cushions felt like clouds to your tired body that was cramped into the workers’ ship, inviting you to sit on it and eat out its owner to your heart’s content.
placing tentative kisses to the small bundle like clit on top of his vent, you flatten your tongue, licking a stripe up the soft scales of his vent and the base of his cocks. just a token of affection and he was already squirming in his place, bucking his hips into your mouth. but he needs yo learn patience when it came to you, something you showed with small little licks to the side of his vent, collecting his juices into your tongue and tasting them. he lets out a punched out whine at that, spreading himself open more to try and entice you. he smelled like a freshly brewed maple syrup, tasted like the nectar of the forbidden fruits on your tongue, sounded like your favorite song in loop.
“hurry it uppp—! aaah♡︎ j-just like that... deep♡︎ deeper♡︎ wan’ your tongue deeper inside my vent♡︎!!” a surprised squeal comes from him, legs jerking in place as if wanting to wrap around your head. reaching a hand out, you push two fingers inside his mouth, muffling his noises and making him choke on the digits. the poor thing tries to make a noise of protest, only succeeding in a meager choked moan.
pushing apart his vent open further with your fingers, you push your tongue inside as far as it could reach. not deep inside to reach that soft spot inside his vent, but certainly deep enough to make him gasp around your fingers. you can feel his forked tongue come up, the long limb slithering around your fingers and between them to try and wet them. his attempts sometimes ended up futile, making the dragon choke on the accumulated saliva on his tongue and your fingers. sometimes, he would get a little too excited, his thighs warming your cheeks and ear until you slap them open again.
he tasted delicious, like a fruit mix syrup that was left in the perfect condition for you to feast on. a nectar of both sin and sweetness, coupled with his cute noises that ask you for more like the greedy dragon he was. dragons were naturally possessive, it didn’t surprise you that your sweetheart pulled you in for a quick fuck inside his own office in broad daylight. flattening your tongue, you ease the muscle in and out smoothly on the soft scaled base of his cock inside his hole. slimy liquid drip down your chin, forcing you to slurp some while the ones you couldn’t taste dirty your jaws and the floor.
“ummgh! s-sho guwd… deeper♡︎ wan’ iwt deeepeeerrr♥︎♥︎” he chokes out around your fingers, rocking his hips back and forth to make your tongue thrust inside his vent more forcefully. your poor pent up dragon, so needy to the point he was fucking his dripping folds into your mouth. taking one of his hands that tried to hold his vent open for you, you guide one of his fingers to rest over the small bundle on top of his slit, making him rub the muscle slowly. it acted like a clit, a tiny muscle that came out when he was aroused, sensitive to the touch.
after a few messy flicks to the clit like muscle, without even having you properly touch his angry red cocks, he was spurting cum into his shirt. it will be a mess to wash them out later but right now, all you focused on was the cute flush of his face and the way his pupils dilated into hearts when his eyes met yours. making a show of his debauchery, the dragon pushes your fingers out just enough to make you watch how he drooled around them, long tongue slithering between the two digits. the hand that was over the small clit like muscles stroked his bigger cock a few times, letting the last few drops of his cum spurt into his chest. just like how you guided his hand earlier, he did the same to yours. letting your wet fingers scoop up the mess on his skin and shirt before wiping them clean with his tongue, suckling on the tips of your fingers as if he was suckling on your cock. were your eyes deceiving you or were the corners of his lips turned up into a smug grin?
taking your fingers out of his mouth, making the dragon whine at the loss, you push your saliva coated fingers into his hole. all the earlier smugness of his face disappears in an instant, throwing his head back with a loud wail as his vent clenches around your tongue. claws that were scratching at the wood of his desk weakly paws at your head, fingers fisting at your scalp as he couldn’t decide between fucking into your tongue deep into his vent or the fingers now scissoring his hole open.
“angh—! ah ah guhhn♡︎♡︎ [n-name]! mmng eengh—♥︎ aah... so gooddd♡︎ m-missed you, missed this—♥︎!” the dragon weakly bucks his hips, wiggling in place unable to decide what to do. all he could do was paw at your head or at his shaking legs that were propped up on the desk, mind melting away into a soft mush. there were nothing in his mind, filled with cotton as he could only hyperfixate on the feeling of your fingers and tongue fucking him open like he was a cheap whore in a brothel and not the great dragon inside his own office.
“ummgh!! umgck— kuhng♥︎♥︎!” a sharp wail of his gets muffled as your place your free hand over his mouth, forcing him to stay quiet. in his own greed for pleasure that your provided, he had forgotten where you two were. not like he could care less. he was disgustingly possessive and his tail refused to budge from its place that was snugly wrapped around your middle. the fluffy end consistently patting against your thigh whenever your fingers pushed deeper, curling up to hit his prostate.
it was dizzying; the pleasure, your tongue squeezing into his vent, the way you roughly fucked into his prostate with your fingers as you force him to muffle his noises. if only he could moan and shriek to his heart’s content and not force himself to shut up.
slipping your fingers out of his hole with a lewd shlick! your hand pumps his smaller cock at an agonizingly fast pace. his smaller cock was more sensitive, another new discovery you used to your heart’s content as his legs thrash around, the dragon’s tail squeezing around your middle painfully. bot that you cared, you were just trying to get him to cum again quicker. if you were correct in your assessment, in half an hour, he had a meeting.
unable to help himself, the dragon bites down on your hand, making you grimace as the sharp fangs in his maw pierce through your skin. he could taste your blood as it trickles into his mouth, making him whine in concern for hurting you before his legs jerk violently, wrapping around your head tightly. back arching on the desk so beautifully, screaming into your hand, his smaller cock spurts out more cum than the one before, his slick juices squirting onto the warmth of your tongue from his vent. slurping up as much as you could, you finally ease your tongue out as his cocks go soft in your hand. the small clit like muscles on top of his vent soften back inside as you push his legs open slowly. taking your hand away from his mouth, you couldn’t help the smug grin that crawls onto your face as you see your cute dragon.
pupils blown wide, covering the color of his irises, a small smear of blood on his lips with his cocks wearily slipping back inside his vent. once safely tucked back inside, the glistening folds of his scaled vent flutters, clenching around the phantom feeling of your tongue showed up inside it. pulling over a pack of wet wipes from one of his desk drawers, you place kisses to the pulsing scales on his chin as you wipe him clean to the best of your ability. satisfied with how he finally had you by his side, his tail weakly pats your leg, a pleased rumble of a purr in his throat as his claws hook into your shirt to yank you down onto the desk on top of him. as quickly as you fell, his arms were around you, keeping you caged in his grasp. huffing out an amused laugh, you decide to indulge in his wishes for cuddles.
only until the doors will be knocked of course.
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pboogerswbb ¡ 7 days ago
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TOO LOST IN YOU
Paige Bueckers x reader (no use of y/n)
reader is a bartender at ted’s! and had a falling out with paige after fucking on and off for months. now paige is back at ted’s, needing her again.
part 2
Warnings: SMUT! also toxic!paige and language etc. you know the drill
A/N: wrote this because i'm stubborn and competitive and that one anon (who since apologised ily lol) thought english wasn't my first language lmao. also, this COULD become a multiple part series if people want but idk, idek if i'll ever write anything else lol. but we'll see! please let me know, would love to hear you guys' thoughts :) ily. ALSO the title comes from the song Too Lost In You by Sugababes (which will be the inspo for the series if this actually becomes one). SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG
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“Yo I’m about to get fucked up tonight” A strong voice comes through from the bar entrance.
I would recognize that voice anywhere. Before I even lift my gaze I’m brought back to the memories of her talking into my ear mid shift, hands on my waist, soft whispers in my ear telling me how good I looked. Or the flashing images of her in my bed on top of me, sweat dripping down her back, talking me through it inbetween groans. The images I replayed over and over in my head, a lot more than I’d like to admit - more than was okay for someone who had called the whole thing off between us anyway. 
In a panic I quickly bent down to hide behind the bar, pretending that scrubbing the sticky liquor stains off the floor was of the utmost importance. All just to get away from having to serve her.
“Hey, can you get this one, I’m dying for a break” Natalie, my co-worker, says - clueless to the hiding or the cause of it. For a moment I consider faking a heart attack, throwing a glass at her, or simply screaming “no”. But her round eyes (and the fact I needed to keep this job to pay the bills) softened me. With a deep breath I nod and stand up behind the bar, as Natalie walks off. Leaving me face to face with her.
She’s standing in front of me - Paige. It had been weeks since I had seen her last, doing everything in my power to avoid her. My eyes can’t help it though when they travel from her long fingers to her veiny hands to her broad shoulders that I swear had filled out even more in the weeks I hadn’t seen her. My gaze roams over her neck and my knees almost buckle at the memory of burying my head there, leaving open mouthed kisses on her pale skin. The way it bruised and reddened. The navy blue Uconn trackies made her skin even brighter, and I swear she glowed a little. Finally, my eyes land on her bright blue eyes that are already staring at me, heavy lidded, needy even. The way they always looked when she made her way to my dorm in the middle of the night, needing me.
Her eyes widen. “Oh… didn’t know you were working today” Paige says. It’s a lie. It’s clear in the strain of her voice, the way her fingers twitch. Last time we talked I told her I never wanted to see her again. But right now as she towered over me forcing me to tilt my head up to meet her gaze, I nearly forgot why.
“Whatchu want?” I ask, ignoring her statement already instinctively reaching for the grenadine. I knew her too well to pretend anything else. My stomach twisted uncomfortably thinking about how we had left things between us.
Paige pretends to think. “Uhh… a dirty shirley.” Her words are slightly slurred. She’d already been drinking. I move my eyes away from hers, unable to take the severity of her stare. The tension is broken, however, by a very drunk KK crashing into Paige and leaning over the bar. “also shots” KK adds and nudges Paige who smiles weakly, her eyes never leaving mine. With the way she looked I might’ve thought she had missed me - but I knew better. Paige Bueckers did not yearn for any girl. Certainly not me.
I smile widely at KK. “You wanna be more specific?” I ask, making the shirley with a rehearsed ease. I had made quite a few since Paige had taken a liking to me earlier in the year, coming over to Ted’s almost every night, sitting in the corner with her teammates watching me, tipping me way too much with that smug grin of hers. It would’ve pissed me off if she wasn’t so insanely, out of this world hot.
“Anything strong” KK snorts and I let out a chuckle, reaching for the vodka. “You got it.”
I set the drinks on the counter but Paige is quick to grab hers, her fingertips pressing into mine for just a moment. I nearly whimper at the contact, seeing how Paige’s jaw flexes and cheeks blush. She felt it as much as I did, the tension from the last time we slept together.
“Thanks…” Paige murmurs uncharacteristically quiet. KK rolling her eyes and scoffing, grabs the shots for her and the team. “Bro” KK shakes her head at the interaction, leaving the blonde alone with me to pay. I try to ignore the burn between my legs, watching her long fingers shuffling through cash in her wallet. It would take a gun for me to admit I had been thinking about those fingers during lonely nights and fuck, even nights spent with other people. No matter what no one ever measured up to how those fingers knew exactly what to do, which buttons to push.
“Keep the rest, ma” Paige says, snapping me out of my daydream. My mind is too hazy to take in the nickname. I can’t get a single word out before she’s already turning away, dirty shirley in hand and a stupid grin on her face. She had got to me and she was enjoying every moment.
–
Paige dangled over the bar, her eyes wide and searching, finally setting on me walking out from the back. She’s pushing her blonde hair off her face with a sloppy, uncoordinated movement, clearly feeling the alcohol. I stop her before she can speak though.
“If you want another one you gotta ask Natalie, I’m off my shift,” I tell Paige, refusing to give her my attention the way I knew she wanted.
“I know, you’re off this time every week,” Paige chuckles and leans forward with her elbows on the bar. She was in a Uconn tee now, her biceps flexing. It takes all my willpower not to stare. “We should talk.”
“We really shouldn’t,” I say sternly, taking off the name tag I had been wearing. “Pretty sure I said I never wanted to talk to you again.”
“Sure and you also called me a bitch but never stopped us from fucking before either,” Paige says, a slight annoyance in her voice, preferring to have her way. She’s licking on her grenadine stained lips, chasing my gaze. I finally meet hers, ignoring the aching I felt looking at her eyes on me. I knew how this ended up unless I left. Now.
“I have class tomorrow,” i sigh, walking around the bar towards the exit and throwing on my jacket. Before I know it Paige’s hand grips my arm holding me still. I can smell her around me. Grenadine and alcohol sure, but also the scent of her. The scent I looked for everywhere. Her eyes were pleading, like I was water and she was on fire. I almost forgot why I hated her, just for a second. 
“Lemme drive you ma,” Paige pleads. 
“You can’t drive, you're drunk” I scoff, brushing her hand off of me. A feeble attempt as Paige’s free arm quickly snakes around my waist and pulls me in, her scent so strong now it’s making me dizzy.
“But I need to talk to you, been driving me crazy,” She murmurs with a slight whine in her voice. For a moment I waver, her hand firmly on the small of my back, all her height towering over me. It made my head spin.
Paige takes it as a sign and leans closer, pulling me in tighter but I place my hand on her chest holding her back, suddenly aware of how empty the bar was and how the most famous person on campus probably shouldn’t be doing this in public. I notice the way her chest is heaving, mine doing the same. The fabric of the shirt underneath my fingertips felt all sorts of wrong, I needed it off of her immediately. No, I had to be stronger than this. 
But I wasn’t.
“Do you need a ride back to campus?” I ask her and swallow. The way her tongue slides over her lower lip as she watches me forces a deep blush to set on my face. 
“Yeah, bad,” Paige murmurs and I push her hands off me, wordlessly heading to the door with Paige following close behind. She hurries past me to open the car door for me. I would think it was sweet if I didn’t know that it was just one of her plays. One of the ways she made girls like me think she actually cared. She didn’t. She just wanted to fuck.
The air is tense as I start the car, praying Paige doesn’t notice the slight tremble of my hand. I’m not sure if it’s anger or how weak her touch had made me feel. Either way I had to get rid of her fast. Paige slouches on the passenger seat, watching me with hooded eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. Her legs were spread wide apart, sweatpants pulled low enough for her the logo Nike Pros to peek out. For a second all I want to do is pull up somewhere desolate and climb on top of her - from the smirk on Paige’s face I can tell she’s having the exact same thoughts.
The quiet hum of the car motor soothes my nerves until her voice cuts through the air.
“Been missing you y’know-” Paige starts but I interrupt, knowing she had the tendency to talk herself right into my bed.
“Told you I never wanted to talk to you again, remember?” I say with a slight shake in my voice.
“Baby c’mon, you weren’t serious about that,” She groans, her voice filled with amusement.
“What, the screaming didn’t seem serious to you?” I sigh, my eyes strictly on the road. Paige let’s out a chuckle and leans forward on her seat.
“Ion remember non of that, just remember how bad I wanted to fuck that attitude out of you,” she chuckles and the car slides into the passing lane momentarily as i slap her only half seriously across the chest. I pull over on the road, parking the car. The amusement in her tone pissed me off bad. I had enough.
“Get out” I tell Paige sternly, rage and annoyance swirling inside me. She had no right to be making light of the situation. Not after what she did, how bad it had hurt me.
Paige lets out a laugh. “Man you’re crazy” she tells me turning to face me. I face her too, the anger turning my cheeks even brighter. 
“I’m fucking serious. Get out,” I repeat my voice rising a little but it doesn’t have the desired effect. Paige just chuckles and shakes her head. I wanted to strangle her, she drove me crazy.
“KK always telling me I pick the crazy ones, I’m thinking she’s right,” Paige groans, not taking any initiative to get out of my car. I unbuckle my seatbelt and groan. I lean over Paige manspreading on the passenger seat, reaching for her door as she grabs my wrist, my face so close to hers I could smell the alcohol on her breath. The air in the car shifts, my annoyance turning into something that made my legs feel weak, as she licks her lips, her eyes on me. “M sorry ok,” Paige says, her voice low and hoarse now. Her eyes plead again.
And I fold, again.
“I don’t wanna hear a word from you, mmkay?” I say clearing my throat and pulling back from her before I made some really, really bad choices.
“Yes ma’am,” Paige grins, satisfied by the effect she had on me.
I start the car and in silence we drive back to Storrs, the streets quiet on the dark tuesday night. Paige fiddles with the zipper of her hoodie, her nimble fingers needing something to do - always looking for something to toy with. 
I tried to shake the feeling of each cell in my body screaming for her, needing to feel her skin against mine. I knew we weren’t good for each other. She wasn’t good for me. Part of me wished she came to tell me she’s done fucking around. That I’m all she wants, better than all the countless other girls that spent nights in her bed. That I was different, special. Worth letting everyone else go for. Frankly, even if she told me all those things, each word I wanted to hear, I wouldn’t believe her. 
When you were with Paige, it never felt like you were one of many though. She knew how to make you feel like you were the only one. It was in the way her blue eyes roamed my face, in the whine of her voice - like she would die if she didn’t have me. She’d remember your favourite movie and your mother’s name and the way you liked your coffee. All just to go see some other bitch later and repeat the same routine with her. Even with the girls she fucked, she had to be the best. Not because they meant anything, but because that’s who she had to be - the best. A winner.
Paige stretches her arms behind her head, the grey Uconn tee hiking up just enough for the skin on her lower abdomen to peek out as I park the car. Jesus. I quickly look away.
There’s a moment of silence, Paige staring at me intently.
“Look, I-” she starts but I quickly climb out of the car, not wanting to hear it. She’s quick to follow me though, her long limbs catching up to me faster than I liked.
“Ma, c’mon-”
“Don’t call me that,” I say, doing my best to sound stern as I head towards my dorm in a hurry, Paige right next to me. The campus was empty, most students already in their dorms, spending the night in.
“Bro you gotta listen to me-”
“No I don’t, you got your ride home now fuck off!” I yelp, entering the building as Paige holds the door open for me, still persistent on following me. “You said you’d keep your mouth shut so… keep it shut Paige.”
“Well… I lied” She murmurs rubbing the back of her neck, still on my tail all the way to my door. For a moment she watches me struggle with the lock, my hands shaky from the mix of anger and how bad the need between my legs had grown just from being near her. Paige reaches over, unlocking the door for me, her hands brushing against mine. I close my eyes and sigh - I really had to get it together.
“Well yeah you do that huh,” I say bitterly entering my dorm. Paige leans against the doorframe, not letting me lock her out.
Paige chuckles and shakes her head. “Bro you’re being so dramatic, we both knew what this was when we got into it. It’s not like you didn’t fuck around too!” Paige raises her voice, slightly amused, slightly bitter.
The truth was, I hadn’t slept around. Since Paige first fucked me, she took over me, consumed me. I would never admit this to her but I couldn’t even think about anyone else. 
“God, you can be such a bitch I swear to-” I groan loudly, rolling my eyes but Paige interrupts me, stepping into my room.
“Me?! You’re the most psycho bitch I ever met-” 
“Psycho bitch?!” I’m screaming now, my body hot with rage. “It was you who told me you weren’t fucking anyone else with some other bitch’s bra under your bed! Not me!”
Paige groans and shuts the door behind her, throwing her head back in frustration. “It’s just something people say! You were in those purple panties too ma, I’m not responsible for the shit I say when you wear those,” Paige argues. I chuckle, turning to face her. She was staring at me, heavy lidded and jaw sharper than usual from grinding her teeth together. Paige was getting pissed off, wondering if any pussy was worth this much trouble.
“You’re a fucking sociopath P!” I yell at her as she takes a step towards me, her eyes darkening. The blue in her eyes nearly gone from the way her pupils were blown out.
Paige grins smugly at me, licking her lower lip, looking me up and down. “Yeah? What else?” she says smugly, her big hands coming to hold me by my waist. The moment my eyes meet hers I knew it was over for me. Suddenly my legs felt weak, and my head spun.
“An asshole too,” I answer, my voice breathy and more quiet. My body was immediately responding to her touch, Paige’s fingertips sliding underneath the hem of my shirt sending goosebumps everywhere.
“Yeah?” Paige grins, with a smug tone. I nearly fall over.
“Yeah,” I repeat, my chest heaving. 
“That’s too bad ma…” Paige murmurs, her eyes roaming from my eyes to my lips, down my body. 
I furrow my brows, fighting to not let out a whimper as her fingertips rubbed up and down against my sides, carefully over each rib. Up and down.
“It’s too bad 'cause I’ve been dying to fuck you,” She says with a low voice, eyes returning to meet mine. “Shit baby, watching you tonight, the way your ass looks in those jeans? Fuckin' killing me,” she adds shaking her head. Paige’s hand drifts down from my waist to my hips, all the way to my ass. Gripping it hard as she groans.
I can’t fight the whimper that spills from my lips, the way my eyes flutter shut just for a moment. Paige grins, watching my reaction. She pulls me closer by my ass, my body pressing against hers as she towers over me. Paige leans down, nuzzling her nose against my ear. And I don’t stop her. I bite my lip, feeling the way my panties were growing damp already. Only Paige could have this kind of effect on me - one touch and a few words and that grin and I was hers. She knew it as well as I did and I hated her for it.
I was too weak to hate her right now though. Too far gone.
“But since you hate me so bad…” Paige whispers into my ear, her lips brushing against it as she leaves a few wet kisses right under it. “I should probably leave.”
In a haze I reach up to wrap my hands around her, my hand pressing against the back of her neck to keep her there. To make sure she didn’t go.
“No…” I nearly whine. Paige chuckles against my neck, kissing it slow and soft. Her hand kneads my ass again, like she had been dying to feel it.
“No? You want me to stay?” She says, teasing.
“Want you to stay,” I murmur, tilting my head to the side, my eyes shut now.
“Want me to get you right ma?” Paige asks hoarsely. My body feels like putty as she holds me against her, like she could do whatever and I could do nothing but watch. I didn’t feel in control. I never did with her.
“Y-yes,” I finally admit with a sigh.
Paige pulls away from my neck, her lips ghosting mine. Her breathing was heavy. She needed this just as bad as I did.
“Attagirl,” she murmurs and finally presses her lips against mine. I moan against her, Paige’s lips slide against mine hungrily - like all these weeks apart she had been underwater and I was air. She could finally breathe.
With a swift movement, Paige pulls my shirt off, leaving me in a bra and jeans as her lips return to mine with a groan. Paige’s tongue slides against my lower lip, begging for access. I open my mouth, my tongue meeting hers, my hands pulling on her t-shirt, feeling the muscles on her abdomen, earning a small whine from her.
“Fuck,” she whimpers and walks me back without breaking the kiss. The backs of my legs hit the edge of my bed, forcing me to fall over. Paige watches me hungrily, her mouth ajar just slightly as her eyes roamed my body. “So fucking sexy,” she groans, pulling her shirt off over her head before climbing on top of me in her sports bra.
Paige starts kissing my neck roughly, sucking and nibbling enough to leave bruises to remind me of her later. Her leg finds its way between my legs, quickly pressing against my core as her free hand roams my side, fingers sliding underneath my bra and kneading my breast.
“Fuck, P…” I whimper arching my back off the bed. The friction provided by her leg was the opposite of relieving, making me more aware of all the layers of fabric between our bodies. “Need these off,” I murmur breathlessly, my hands pulling the blue sweatpants down desperately as Paige’s open mouth moves from my neck to my jaw.
“Whatever you want baby,” she whispers, kicking off her pants. She was now on top of me in a sports bra and Nike pros, a silver chain dangling against my chest. Paige leans back a little, eyes roaming my body, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe I was real. Her blonde hair was down and tousled from the way I had been gripping it. She grabs a hair tie from her wrist, tying it back messily, licking her lips.
“Baby, I need to taste you or I might die.”
With that Paige brings her lips back to my neck, making her way down with a trail of wet, sloppy kisses between my breasts, down my stomach, my hip bones, her hands unbuttoning my jeans, shaky with need.  
I watch as she gets on her knees on the floor between my legs, her blue eyes my face as she pulls down my jeans painfully slowly. I buck my hips, needing her mouth on me so bad I felt lightheaded. Paige’s hands pin my hips down with a grin, eyes moving to my panties and the visible spot that had grown wetter under her gaze.
“Fuuuckk ma,” she groans, finally bringing her lips to my core, kissing over my panties.
I whine and grip the sheets beside me, trying to buck my hips closer but Paige shakes her head, still holding my hips still firmly against the mattress. “Thought you hated me,” she murmurs against my core. I wanted to cry, needing her lips on my bare skin. The feel of her mouth through my panties wasn’t enough.
“I do,” I whine, squirming in frustration, throbbing with need. I wanted to hate her, I really did. But when she was between my legs, pinning me down, a chain on her neck and that smirk on her face, I simply couldn’t. 
Paige brings her hand to my hip, finally pulling my panties down to my ankles, her eyes never leaving my core. With a bite of her lip, she brings her finger to my cunt, already soaked, all for her. Her fingertip presses against my clit menacingly, enough to make me gasp.
“If you hate me so much then why are you this wet huh?” Paige teases with a gravelly voice, starting to circle my clit slowly, drawing out whimpers from my lips. My legs immediately trembled, and I watched her with heavy eyes and furrowed brows, nearly unable to think yet alone speak.
“You’ve been such a bitch all night shoulda known you just needed to be fucked,” she chuckles, pressing her fingers harder against my clit, making me let out a moan. It had been weeks since we last did this yet the way she touched me seemed practiced and effortless, like she had been doing it every single day of her life.
“Fuck you,” I moan arching my back as Paige bit on my inner thigh, the veins in her forearm turning visible from the strain of rubbing my clit. 
“Nah ma,” she breathes out, shaking her head. “I’mma fuck you. Just need to taste this pussy first,” Paige groans and leans over, both her hands gripping my inner thighs harshly, forcing them apart as she dives in face first, her lips quickly attaching to my clit.
“Shit. Paige, I-” I moan, unable to come up with any comprehensible thought, Paige’s tongue lapping me up like she really would die if she didn’t taste me. Paige’s eyes are fluttering shut and she’s moaning against my cunt, unable to get enough.
“Fucking missed this pussy so bad,” she murmurs against me, wrapping her lips around my clit and sucking. “Taste so fucking good, never gonna get enough of you,” she rambles on, making a quick mess of me. It doesn’t take long for the coil in my stomach to tighten, my hand gripping onto Paige’s blond hair, falling out of the bun now. 
“Paige-” I whine, throwing my head back, feeling her tongue swirling in my folds. The sheets underneath me were growing damp, wetness dripping out of me from how good she was eating me out.
Paige pulls away spreading my folds apart with her fingers. “Shit ma she loves me huh,” she groans at the sight of me dripping all over the bed. Her words make my eyes roll back. Without warning she pushes two fingers inside me, all the way, as deep as she could. 
“OH fuck P” I gasp loud, bringing my eyes to her face, glistening with the mess I had made on her. She groans, my cunt tight and wet around her fingers as she curls them against me, her bicep flexing as she does. I moan loudly, throwing my head back, my legs shaking bad. Paige’s thumb rubs against my clit harshly as she pumps her fingers into me, other hand holding my squirming body still.
“P… mmph, please,” I cry out, not even sure what I'm pleading for. 
“Shh,” Paige coos, her hand reaching up to cover my mouth and shut me up. “Listen ma,” she says and groans. The room is filled with the sound of my wet cunt, as her fingers slam into me faster, curling harder. My cheeks burn up, almost embarrassed at the state that she had me in.
Paige grins watching my face. “Don’t sound like you hate me, huh,” she murmurs, a bead of sweat dripping down her face. “No one else gets you this wet right? No one fucks you like this,” she groans, hand moving from my mouth to gripping my jaw, making me watch her finger me.
“Mmmh,” i whimper and grip the sheets harder, overwhelmed with the fullness her fingers were causing. I wanted to look away, unable to take the way her arm looked, muscles flexing, veins prominent, as she worked me. It was all overwhelming me as the pleasure built enough to make me shut my eyes.
“Answer me,” Paige commands, her voice stern and her hand moving faster. 
“Shit… No one.. No one fucks me like this,” I cry out, unaware of what was coming out of my mouth. Too fucked out to care.
Paige moans. “Shit, that’s right. No one baby, only me,” she murmurs, her mouth returning to my clit, tongue working against it as her fingers fill me up, overwhelming me and getting me to my peak.
“P- I’m close,” I cry out, my legs nearly shutting but Paige grips my thigh with her free hand, spreading me open for her.
“That’s it ma, s’ good for me,” Paige coos working harder, her fingers curling inside me, tongue flicking against my clit. “Come for me baby,” she praises, groaning against me.
“Oh-” I whine and my head lulls back as my core tightens around her, my legs trembling, Paige fucking an orgasm me to my orgasm. Who cared she slept around, who cared I was supposed to hate her. In this moment, it was just me and her. And no one made me feel like she did, no one took care of me like this.
“Perfect fucking pussy, all for me,” Paige groans against my cunt, working me as I released all over her, the pleasure washing over me in waves. My moans turn to whimpers as I slowly come down, her movements slowing too.
I let out a breath, feeling the aching emptiness inside me as Paige pulled her hand away. She watches my pulsing cunt, mesmerised and hungry. The thing about Paige, one was never enough for her. Her lips kissed around my clit before pulling away, licking her lips from my mess. 
“Missed how you taste baby,” she murmurs while I lay back, trying to catch my breath. Paige brought her fingers against my lips, sliding them into my mouth. I wrap them around her fingers, tongue swirling against her, tasting myself. Paige hisses, watching me sucking on her fingers. With a groan she climbs back up, kissing me hungrily. The taste of me, and her saliva all mixing together. 
Her lips move against mine, the kiss filled with something more tender than pure lust. My arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in as we move up towards the headboard of the bed. Paige breathes heavily through her nose, kissing me with all the need she had, her hand holding my face by my jaw. I move my hand from her shoulder, down her arm, squeezing her bicep, all the way to the band of her Nike Pros, tucking on them.
“Need to feel you P,” I admit in a moment of weakness, my heart fluttering with how good it felt to be underneath her again. I needed all of her.
Paige pulls back a little, breathing heavy and I swear her eyes are filled with tenderness for just a second as they meet mine. Her fingertips trace my jaw and lower lip before letting go and pulling down the fabric I was tugging on, lips parted from need. My eyes roam her sports bra covered chest, down the muscles of her abdomen finally to her core. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly going dry.
I reach up and flip us over, with some help from Paige who was much stronger. She grins, watching me on top of her, straddling her thigh as I lean down and kiss her hard. Paige is quick to place her hand on my ass, gripping it harshly and hissing at how good it felt to touch me. My hand trails down her abdomen, fingertips itching to feel her cunt but she grabs my wrist, shaking her head.
“Ride me ma,” she says, half commanding, half pleading. I open my eyes meeting her eyes and I realise, she is fully pleading. 
“Need to feel that pussy on mine.” Shit.
Too weak to fight or to make her beg, I maneuver myself between her legs, angling her body just right, Paige’s other leg up in the air in my grip. Paige watches me, leaning back against the bedframe, eyes half shut and mouth agape, looking so good I could’ve burst.
Finally, I lower myself against her, feeling the slick of her cunt press against mine. 
“Ohhh shiiit,” Paige groans, watching our cores grinding against each other. I whimper, pressing on her lower abdomen to find just the right angle. 
“Oh,” I whine, feeling her pressing against my clit just right, my body immediately trembling, still sensitive from my previous orgasm.
Paige’s head lulls back at the same time, as she lets out a guttural groan, gripping my ass and forcing me to start moving my hips.
I do so, slowly, drawing it out for her - just the way Paige loved and simultaneously hated. Her breathing was getting heavier as she watched me. “Just like that,” she whimpers, trying to keep herself together. It never lasted for long.
I moan, grinding my cunt into hers, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. Her hands snake around me, unclasping my bra with ease, letting my tits fall out as she groans. 
“Look so fucking good for me,” she murmurs, a slight whine in her voice as she leans forward, her mouth attaching itself to my nipple, tongue circling it as i ride her faster, mind spinning once more. “Such a bitch huh who knew you’d be so good for me,” Paige whines and I grip her shoulders, steadying myself, letting my nails dig into her skin as she hisses.
“You’re the bitch,” I whimper breathlessly, letting out a gasp when she bites my nipple. Paige’s hand are digging into the skin of my ass, forcing me to move faster, her hips bucking into me. She chuckles, breathing heavily, head falling back against the bed frame. “Shut the fuck up and ride me ma,” she hisses, gripping my jaw and forcing my gaze to lock on her face.
I hiss, furrowing my brows as i look down at her, moving my hips desperately, our cunts grinding together harshly, igniting that familiar burn inside me.
“Pisses me off, pretending you don't want me. Pretending you don’t want me to fuck you, it’s bullshit,” Paige groans, fighting back her own orgasm now. Her voice shook and the muscles in her abdomen were contracting as she looked up at me. “Look at you now riding my shit, being a slut for me,” she rambles on. “You’re my slut ma,” Paige moans bucking her hips into mine, eyes fluttering shut from pleasure.
My nails dig into her skin harder, my whole body trembling. I was close, and her words only made me ride harder, grind against her faster, the slickness of her cunt making me wetter. Paige’s hand squeezed my jaw, forcing my eyes open.
“Tell me.. Shit- tell me you’re my slut,” Paige whines. She’s desperate for it, barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth. I can tell she's close
“Mmph, P-” I moan, my cunt throbbing.
“Aw shit- I- Tell me,”
“Fuck I am, I’m your slut P, please,” I mewl, my eyes growing wet as they shut.
“That’s right ma, fuck- ride me so good you’re gonna make me come,” Paige murmurs out inbetween moans, hands gripping my jaw and ass so tight I’m nearly bruising underneath her grip.
My whole body shook and I cried out, barely able to keep grinding my cunt into hers, her clit pressing against mine. But when I heard the moan that slipped from her lips, and felt her mouth attach to my neck, I knew I’d do anything to get her to fall apart beneath me.
“P- I’m-” I cry out but she interrupts me.
“Me too baby, shit- ride me so- aw fuck- fucking good,” Paige rambles on, barely able to form sentences as she moves underneath me, the friction growing unbearable between us as she lets out a guttural moan, her body coiling underneath me. 
“Fuck-” Paige finally moans.
That’s enough to get me there too, coming against her cunt, fingernails leaving marks on her shoulders as I kept grinding my hips, movements turning sloppy as i whimpered on top of her, riding down waves of pleasure.
My body trembles, eyes still closed when I feel Paige’s hands wrapping around my body and pulling me down. My naked body presses against her skin as she soothingly rubs my back, nuzzling her nose into my hair.
I sigh, listening to her trying to catch her breath. After a while, she breaks the silence.
“Meant it when I said I missed you,” she murmurs into my ear, still out of breath. I bury my head into the crook of her neck, brushing her hair gently. It was moments like these that got me confused. You didn’t do this just for someone you fucked. Except Paige did.
“Don’t like fightin' you,” she whispers, pressing a kiss on my temple. I feel my heart fluttering in a way I didn’t want it to. But I’m too tired to fight it. I press a kiss on her jaw, gently and pull my head back to meet her gaze. She looks completely fucked out, mascara smudged under tired eyes. Her hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair off my face before she leans over and kisses my forehead, as tenderly as humanly possible. Maybe this was her trying to show me I was in fact different, that she was done with the other girls. She just wanted me. 
“Don’t like fighting you either,” I whisper, resting my chin on her chest. Paige’s eyes are filled with relief, as she smiles weakly. 
“I’mma get us some water, okay ma?” Paige hums and I nod, letting her crawl out of bed from underneath me. I watch the blonde pull her clothes back on and turn to me, smiling affectionately. She leans down and presses another kiss on my temple, smoothing over the blanket to make sure I was comfortable. “Just a sec,” she whispers before walking into the kitchen. Surely you don’t do that just for a girl you fuck. There’s no way you look at someone like that and proceed to sleep around with other people. My heart flutters as I let my mind wander, finding myself fantasising of getting to call Paige mine. All mine.
Just then I heard Paige’s phone buzzing on the bedside table. Without my better judgement, I reach over, seeing countless missed calls and messages from a girl, asking where she was and when she’d be over. My heart sinks, the reality quickly bringing me back down from my daydreams. Paige wasn’t here because I was special. No. She was here because I was whipped, and she knew it. And I had given her every single thing she wanted. 
-
taglist (ppl who commented on the teaser or urged me to write lol): @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @uwupaige @lovegalor333 @celestixldarling @mrsbueckerss @t0ygirl @thesecondgaycousin @jnkfaist @rosemariiaa @sierrale8ne @janaelalfysblunt @tndaqlifwy @xxloveralways14 @vbueckers @bueckersfive
ty everyone enjoy this idk if i will write again lmao
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s-awturn ¡ 2 months ago
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Day Off || F1 Grid
cw: nothing but superficiality, cuteness, intimate but not obscene moments, sharing moments, mention of gossip. Just pilots resting
starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1
a/n: I had this written a couple of days ago, but Tumblr just "ate" the only file I had and I lost everything. I was so mad I didn't even want to write anymore, but damn, This is too good a HC to waste, so okay, let's try again (remembering to save periodically this time 🫡
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LEWIS HAMILTON:
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You and Lewis had created a reading list to complete throughout the year, you bet there were about a hundred books on the list, titles ranging from classic literature, biographies, poems, and contemporary literature. Books that you and Lewis wanted to read together or the books you thought the other should read.
So it was common for the two of you to spend the pilot's day off reading in bed while listening to blues or jazz on the speakers. You read together, wrote reviews of the books you read and discussed them.
He was reading Percy Jackson and the Mark of Athena and you were reading Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.
"So? What did you think?" He asked, marking the page he was on, Lewis had just started the last chapter and you had already finished reading.
"He does go through a metamorphosis and it's extremely unpleasant to imagine, but I've read more unpleasant books," you confessed, putting the book on the bedside table. "Four stars, and you?"
He snorted "Piper is so boring, damn she only knows how to think about Jason and how she doesn't like being the daughter of Aphrodite, so boring"
"God, yes! I don't like her either... Anyway, I'll wait for you to finish, and then we can choose the next one."
"Sure, honey," he kissed her temple and returned to reading just as Etta James began to sing "At Last." You settled into it, petting Roscoe as he lay beside you. This is the best way to enjoy your day off.
CARLOS SAINZ:
Carlos was at a stage where he wanted you to learn golf to play with him, after all the sport was a tradition for him and the Spaniard wanted you to be part of it, but you were terrible. You were really bad at golf, but that didn't make he want to teach you any less.
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And well, you didn't like golf either, you didn't understand the sport, the scoring was weird, there were at least half a dozen different clubs and you couldn't even cheer.
But at least the clothes were cute and the cars were cool.
"Let's go, amor, I'll teach you," he said, going to pick you up in the golf cart. Lando, who was accompanying them this time, leaned his body on the golf club, waiting.
"Carlos, I'm terrible at this, you know," you grumbled, taking the bat he offered you. Carlos was a persevering man, you had to admit. He stood behind you, teaching you again how to perform the shot, instructing you to separate your legs and take a deep breath.
"I bet you five bucks she'll throw the ball in the lake"
"Shut up, Lando," you both said.
You followed his instructions and hit the ball...
...that fell into the lake.
"I knew"
"Shut up, Lando"
CHARLES LECLERC:
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A day off for Charles meant you would get to visit his favorite spots, from a famous restaurant to a little coffee shop tucked away in a city alley. Sometimes he would take you to the south of France to see some chateau, other times he would just rent a chalet for you to be together in privacy, and you had lost count of how many times they had gone to Italy to see the vineyards and villas on the border with Monaco.
This time, you were preparing for a slightly longer itinerary, you had suggested visiting the Grace Kelly exhibit before heading to the cottage he had rented for the weekend.
"Got everything you need, mon cher?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist in a sweet hug.
"It depends, I know we're going to see the Grace Kelly exhibit, but I have no idea where we're going after, you say a cottage and I don't know whether to bring a bikini or coats" you mumbled, looking at her handbag.
"Take both just in case, you know spring can have unpredictable weather"
"Are you saying that so you don't give me a hint about where we're going?" You turned in his arms, facing the pilot. "That's not fair."
"You'll like it, mon ange, I promise"
"At least tell me if it's still in Monaco..." You tried to persuade him, sliding your nails lovingly along his chin, making the Monegasque shiver and let out a heavy breath.
"You're not taking me to the siren song, pretty girl." He gave you a quick kiss and a light slap on your ass before leaving. "We'll leave in fifteen minutes."
LANDO NORRIS:
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Lando's downtime with you was spent playing games, you thought it was counterproductive to fuel his competitiveness when he should have been resting, but this routine of games with you made him much calmer and more relaxed when he returned to work. Ironic? Yes, but it worked.
You two played anything, Monopoly, Naval Battle, Game of Life, Detective, W.A.R, Uno, even checkers or cards. Any game was fair game.
The problem is that you got really competitive, your friends even gave up trying to play with you because the game turned into a battlefield.
"You lowlife cheater, did you really throw a +4 at your fiancĂŠe?!" You yelled at him, Lando laughed and blew you a kiss before dodging the pillow you threw at him.
"You know how things work, honey. Just because I love you doesn't mean I'm going to let you beat me."
"This will come back!" You bought the four cards he forced you to. "I really hate you."
"And you are the love of my life"
"Die, you jerk," you snapped and he laughed.
Lando could feel all the tension leaving his shoulders, playing with you always made him relax, no matter how aggressive and passionate you became in the game.
OSCAR PIASTRI:
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Considering that Oscar was always traveling and there were few really usable pages in his schedule, any time the two of you could have together should be taken full advantage of, and For both of them, there's nothing better than an afternoon of movies.
You two had created a list of movies on Letterboxd and the chosen one of the day would be Interstellar.
Oscar was making popcorn while you were arranging the blankets and pillows on the couch, so what if it was the height of summer in Australia? There in the apartment, the air conditioning was hovering below fifteen degrees, keeping the room at a favorable climate for you and your boyfriend to cuddle while watching astronauts lost in space.
"I thought you were going to choose Anatomy of a Fall," he muttered, placing the food on the coffee table, popcorn with cheese, assorted snacks, chocolates and ice cream and of course, lemon soda.
"I was dubious, but you know I love any movie that has Matthew McConaughey in it," you said, getting under the covers, accompanied by Oscar, "and of course, The movie's soundtrack is perfect, I use it to study..."
"Have you watched it?"
"No, I was waiting for you, but I discovered the playlist... I'll send you the link, you'll love it"
He hummed in agreement and you pressed play on the movie, Many times you paused the film to comment on something or express your theories. It made the movie session better, Oscar didn't mind listening to you talk about it and you loved his theories.
It was, without a doubt, the best way to enjoy the break.
MAX VERSTAPPEN:
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He would rather be playing, sleeping or, I don't know, watering the plants, but you always dragged him to a skin care session. You spread different creams on his face, plucked some extra hairs from his eyebrows, trimmed his beard.
As much as he denied it, Max learned to enjoy it, being taken care of by you was one of his guilty pleasures. And it all got better when you started gossiping without any trace of shame. He talked about what went on behind the scenes in F1 and you shared news about work and your condominium.
"I'm still sad that Logan was let go, he had a lot of future," you said, sliding the massage stone across his face, spreading the serum into his skin.
"He's a good kid, unfortunately he wasn't ready for Formula One yet, he came in too early and couldn't adapt well... I hope he can find his place" he grumbled, sighing at the gentle massage on his cheekbones.
"Yes... Williams was very ungrateful to him and I won't elaborate on that" you said a little bitterly and Max laughed, you always positioned yourself as a defender of the poor and oppressed.
"Yes... I won't elaborate on that either... It's better"
You both were silent until you clicked your tongue.
"Uh, I almost forgot to tell you, last week there was a horrible fight at the condominium meeting.
He opened his curious eyes "You can tell me everything, dear"
"The neighbor at 1165 caught her husband with the building manager and the building manager's husband in her bed"
"What the fuck?! Are you kidding?!"
You laughed, putting away the massage stone and sliding your fingers firmly over Max's face "you had to see it, she put together a PowerPoint with photos and screenshots of the conversations"
Max laughed out loud "damn, I wish I had seen..."
"It was a real fight, they argued and everything, it was really fun to watch"
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"I will definitely go to the next condo meeting"
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO S-AWTURN™ 🪐. I do not allow copying or republication. Any unauthorized publication will be reported.
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527 notes ¡ View notes
wonysugar ¡ 3 months ago
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wonder why i’m bitter | julie han
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♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚. casual — chappell roan
synopsis : friends don’t act like this, you would know that better than anyone else.
pairing : non-idol!julie x fem!reader
genre : smut, angst, smutty angst, if you will! heavy on the angst though sorry.
tags : they were roommates,,, making out, marking, implied possessiveness, implied jealousy, anal rimming (heyyy), strap-on sex, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, julie is bent ova, and YESS WHO SAID BACKSHOTS, arguing, topsub!femreader, bottomdom!julie, frequent mentions of sexuality, praise kink, cheating?? could you call this cheating,, one singular l-bomb,,, yikesss
warnings : none..? i guess apart from the obvious content warnings here (angst and smut) there’s some underlying internal homophobia themes?? but i don’t think it’s that bad tbh IDK BE WARNED JUST IN CASE
word count : 3,1k
a/n : haiii!! i’m finally posting this draft OUHH it went through so many changes, like for example THE TITLEE?? i was gonna make the title be a lyric to ‘goodluck, babe!’ by chappell roan since i originally based the fic on that but i ended up listening to casual instead and went woaahh,, this fits so much more what the hell?!? but yeahh i think i’m happy with how it turned out! :’) i hope you guys can say the sameedckem
ALSO! first time writing anything involving anal,, while yes i do talk about it often (ahem we all know,,) i was incredibly nervous in the process and this definitely made me step out of my comfort zone, hope it isn’t too apparent in this ;; but yeah, to stop rambling, thank you for reading!! i hope you like itt! :]]
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“so…” julie’s friend makes a motion between the two of you with a raised eyebrow, wearing a curious smile. “what exactly are you two?” they ask. you thought about it for a few moments, theoretically, you two are roommates, friends at most. but, if anything, you’re more like a couple behind closed doors. 
you shrug, thinking nothing of it, “i guess we’re kind of like—“
“we’re just friends.” she places, wearing a polite smile at the familiar in front of her before you could even think about the rest of your sentence. when you turn to look at her, she’s avoiding your gaze, already familiar with the type of expression you’re wearing. 
it’s the face you always make when she pushes you away like this.
turning back to her friend, you nod slightly, “yeah. we’re friends.” trying your hardest not to let your dejection show through your smile. 
maybe it’s all just in your imagination, perhaps you guys were never even close to being a ‘thing’ and you were the one who thought too much into it. but alas; no matter from which angle you looked at it, the way she displayed any ounce of affection towards you would always make you overthink what you two were exactly. anything she’d do in the comfort of your own apartment with you was never close to anything she’d do in public, in front of the eyes of everyone walking by. she always acts like she barely knows you whenever she is surrounded by people, whether she knows them or not.
you think about it often.
you think about her often.
you asked yourself, do you even like her like that? well, she’s pretty chill, smart, witty and funny. she’s also beautiful, and one hell of a tease, that much is obvious, you’ve had sex with her numerous times in the past, so sexual attraction is out of the question; you already knew the answer to that. the better question probably was; does she even like you like that?
“you done with them?” says julie, referring to the pile of kitchenware you guys left from last night on the counter as she hugs you from behind and rests her head on your shoulder, her arms wrapping all around your waist and watching you. you, on the other hand, were taken by surprise by the sudden display of affection, so much so that you lost your original train of thought. as much as you knew that she liked physical touch, it always did surprise you whenever you randomly felt her skin come in contact with yours throughout the day. getting quickly accustomed to the feeling of her lips kissing your shoulder, you hummed in response, washing and scrubbing the plate with the soaped-up sponge you were holding.
“almost.” 
she whines in an exaggerated manner, “hurry uppp..” lightly tapping on your stomach and resting her head on your shoulder, before adding, “i miss you.”
you giggle, putting away the plate you were now done washing, quickly grabbing another dirty one, “i’m right here, though?”
“no like,” she left another kiss on your shoulder, “i miss you.” 
you smirked, getting progressively more and more amused by the girl’s foreign, yet familiar behavior towards you, feeling her embrace you even tighter.
“oh yeah? well in that case, i miss you too, julie.”
you knew exactly what the girl in question meant by ‘i miss you’ and you would’ve teased her further if it weren’t for how impatient she was getting, despite how cute it was. her heavily annoyed sighs giving it away, despite those also being sprinkled with a tiny bit of humor. 
“come onn, don’t play dumb with me, smartass.”
so, you pushed the oblivious act aside and obliged, setting the plate down before facing her.
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your lips danced in sync with hers as you carried her to your bed. once you got there, you gently sat her down on the edge of the mattress, lips still intertwined whilst her hands glided along the curves of your body, tracing circles with the tip of her index finger on your soft skin. 
you didn’t waste any time in laying her down moments later,, your mouth now eagerly roaming her neck and collarbone and leaving kisses down along her body, successfully marking it up. listening to her quiet hums, you proceeded to slide down her sweatpants, your hands tugging on the waistband.
now left in only her panties, you allowed your fingers to glide over the damp spot in between her legs, teasing the clothed entrance and taking in all of her reactions all at once. 
looking at you through the light brown hair that fell perfectly on her face with hooded eyes and slightly upturned eyebrows, she whispered in a low, husky and raspy tone, “see, baby? see how wet i am for you?”
now, julie had this certain ability to turn even the most confident person alive on this earth into a nervous wreck.
you were, obviously, no exception from her spells. if anything, you, y/n, were a prime example.
you slowly nodded at her words, entranced, feeling yourself fall more and more at her mercy with each second that passed. that earned a smirk from her, putting her hand atop yours, before continuing, “you’re gonna be good and do something about it, right?” 
you nodded once again, this time more eager. 
“words, darling.” she whispered.
“yes,” you muttered in response, a mix of nervousness and eagerness taking over all five of your senses, “o-of course i will.”
she hummed, perfectly content with your adorable answer, before pulling you back into a hungry kiss for another long, pleasant while. that is, until she added something else between kisses, something that made you shudder.
“get the strap.” 
immediately reaching for the drawer next to your bed upon hearing those words, lips still connected to hers, you obeyed and pulled the cabinet open, quickly pulling out the phallic silicone object residing in it as well as the harness, too impatient to feel even embarrassed about the sudden action. 
it didn’t take long before the harness was tight around your hips, the brunette bent over in front of you at the edge of the bed with her panties pulled down to her thighs. you ravished in the sight; her perfect pink pussy sitting before you, slick and wet with desire, begging for you to finally please it properly, practically throbbing in anticipation. who were you to deny her of such pleasure? 
you traced your index finger along her slit, your digit comfortably nestled in between her slippery folds as it slowly teased the entrance. 
rewarded by the sweet sounds coming out of her, you wasted no more time and slowly leaned into her core, giving a long swipe of the tongue to her pussy.
“ohh shitt..” overhearing her moans, you smiled against her as you were now making out with her swollen cunt, intending to taste every drop of her slick, not wasting a single one. your lips circled around her bundle of nerves, giving it small and gentle sucks whilst one of your hands massaged her ass.
subconsciously, julie’s back arched with each movement that your tongue made inside her, her head hung low on the bed as she whimpered filthy praises, her sounds just slightly muffled from the white bedsheet she had over her mouth. 
you heard them, though. 
thank god you heard them.
after a long while of giving more than endless attention to her pussy, you felt your mouth move upwards by itself, driven by the pure desire to make her feel even better than she already was. 
your tongue quickly made its way to her ass, roaming and dancing around her rim, which immediately earned a sharp gasp from her part. you’ve never made it a habit to eat julie’s ass, but whenever you did? it was always enough to cloud your brain with pure, raw want, and it always seemed to catch her pleasantly off-guard, since you’d always do it without any warning. 
you attempted to relax her again by tracing slow circles around her hole with your muscle, before inserting it fully, which you could only assume worked, since you could hear her whines get longer and louder. “fuckk yes baby..” she shamelessly moaned, this time more audibly due to her raising her head up and looking back at you as best as she possibly could, “that’s it, such a sweet girl for me— ah..“ 
using one of your hands, you made sure to thoroughly stimulate her clit, rubbing circles around it and even going as far as to inserting two fingers inside her dripping cunt with your other hand in the process, all whilst the muscle in your mouth flicked way within her, drilling and wriggling as you hummed against her. 
after what felt like hours of you messily rimming her, hours of her pushing herself further onto your mouth, practically fucking herself on you, you figured it was finally time to give her what’d she been wanting ever since she came up behind you in the kitchen.
pulling your fingers out and standing back up, you lined up your strap-on to her aching core, pressing the head against it before slowly inserting its entire length inside of her. 
she let out a groan at the feeling of being penetrated, which progressively turned into longer and more suggestive sounds. it all sounded like music to your ears, it only made you want to please her more.
you reached for her hand, grabbing it upon contact. she squeezed yours with just as much force in return, pleasure visibly taking over her senses. it didn’t take long for you to be full on thrusting into her, either, feeling her walls clench around your fake cock as she babbled praises. 
it was a small gesture, sure, but it made you feel things you weren’t quite certain on how to label.
“such a good girl for me—“ was what she let out, a loud moan escaping her agape mouth whilst you continued pounding her, faster with each second that passed. “f-fuck y/n i love you—“
you saw her lose herself under you, you watched in… admiration? infatuation? whatever it was, you thought she looked mesmerizing, especially with how her brown long hair fell all over the place, how perfect she sounded, how perfect she looked.
how perfect she was.
the words “i love you” resonated in your head. 
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“who’s eric?” you ask her, having thrown glances at her phone that was charging on the kitchen counter whilst washing a plate, the singular one you had left untouched due to being… distracted. 
you finished washing it, then turned around, now met with a surprised julie, clothed in a pair of booty shorts and a white tank top, she was fresh out of the shower, towel drying her hair. that is, until she unexpectedly heard you speak that name, her eyes immediately darting between you and the phone, greeted by that man’s contact name and picture on the latter, an incoming phone call from his part. 
“a guy?” she says back, in her usual sarcastic yet gentle and quiet tone, “thought that was obvious enough—“
jealousy and inexplicable possessiveness flooded your senses; you knew most of her friends, but, you had no idea who this ‘eric’ dude was, and that especially ate at you. why was he calling her, on a random weekday at like, 4 pm? you had checked the clock hanging on the wall to confirm the time.
“well yeah but, i don’t think i know an eric.” you stated, wary of what the girl before you was gonna say, “who is he?”
“…i just told you, some dude. i met him on campus and we just exchanged contacts after he complimented me, a while ago.” she replied, slight annoyance cracking through the facade of the joking expression she wore. she ran her dominant hand through her messy and wet hair, causing it to fall back perfectly on the side of her face and her exposed shoulders. 
she added, “sure, he makes it very clear he wants to hook up with me, but that’s all it’ll ever be i think, he’s not the type of guy you’d wanna date seriously. why do you ask—“ 
“no reason.” you cut her off, cold and dry.
she furrowed her eyebrows, the previous annoyance being more and more apparent, this time only paired with confusion. “…what?” 
“so this is completely normal for you? like, you guys hook up and call each other sometimes and you’re just casually telling me about it? what, does he take you out on dates too?” 
“what are you, my girlfriend or something?” she scoffed, bitter and defensive, gently throwing the towel on the couch in close proximity to her, “and what if he does, why’s it such a big deal to you?” 
why is it such a big deal to me?
why is it such a big deal to me?
and before you know it, you’re quickly matching her tone. “i simply don’t understand how you could tell me something so casually, especially right after we—“
“listen, let’s get this straight.” she says to you, “i know that just because you and i fuck sometimes you’re convinced that it’s gotta mean something, that we’re something, but we aren’t. it doesn’t fucking mean shit to either of us and you know that very well. it’s all in good fun; i don’t belong to you, y/n, and i never will.” 
“it’s not about that?” you walked closer to her as you justified, trying to get your point across, “i’m not saying that you belong to me julie i’m just trying to say that—“
her stare pierces right through you as she cuts you off, and you could’ve sworn you noticed her eyes being glossy. her eyebrows furrowed in anger at you, she added on, “who i date isn’t your business. we’re just friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be, end of discussion. don’t try to turn our friendship into something it isn’t.” 
friends?
“so now i’m the crazy one for not liking the fact that you’re talking to that dude?” you eventually yelled back. you didn’t even notice her grabbing her things as you talked, ready to head out, despite her hair still being wet from the recent shower. you, however, noticed how she took her still ringing phone and put on her favorite puffy jacket, her soft hand’s acrylic nails digging and clutching onto the mentioned cellular device as you rambled on and on, irritated beyond comprehension. 
“we’re not fucking dating y/n, it’s all casual, i.. i’m not even into girls like that—” she asserted herself, trying her absolute hardest to sound as convincing as possible. you heard it, though, you heard that little twinge of doubt and guilt in her voice. it’s almost like she, herself, didn’t believe whatever nonsense was coming out of her mouth. 
how funny was it to watch her say that all whilst having the fresh hickeys you left on her neck and collarbone not even a few hours ago?
perhaps eric will notice them, too.
perhaps with that, he’ll realize how good you treat her, how he’ll never be able to do it like you do.
how he’ll never be able to make her feel as good as you do.
“sure, you aren’t.” you scoffed at her words, before proceeding to add on, “since you swear you aren’t, how about you stop acting like you are? you know, instead of giving me shit for getting upset.” 
“sorry?—“ she laughed bitterly, those words cut deep.
let me talk, you thought, let me place a damn word.
you continued, “no, seriously! you always do this julie, you always make me feel like i’m fucking insane for seeing it the way it is, for the way i see us. you’re convinced that there’s nothing between us, that we’re just friends, yet friends don’t randomly kiss me throughout the day for whatever reason, do they? they don’t fuck me and tell me that they love me in the process, do they?” as you spoke, she avoided your gaze and walked right past you, heading straight for the front door.
that’s when you recalled a certain moment, “sure, why not, let’s say, for your sake, that completely normal friends do fuck sometimes; they don’t buy you stupid lovey-dovey bullshit on valentine’s day and drive you to the middle of nowhere to stargaze, they do not take you out at night and take every opportunity to kiss you in public whenever nobody’s looking, they don’t fucking say they love you while you’re deep inside them— i mean for fuck’s sake julie do you hear yourself??”
she stopped in her tracks in front of the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. she hates it when you read her like a book, she hates it when you call her out on being the way she acts with you, she hates it when you stare at her like that— she fucking hates you. she fucking hates you for making her feel the way she does, for making her question everything about herself, she hates herself for thinking about you whenever she’s with him—
she let out a noise, something in between a sob and a laugh, before looking back at you with tear-filled eyes, she stared at you, up and down. her eyebrows twitching slightly, she then set her eyes on the ground and bit her lip in what seems to be frustration, frustration aimed both at you and herself.
“if i knew it was gonna be like this, i would’ve never done anything with you to begin with.” her voice was shaky.
you watched her figure as she turned the doorknob and slammed the door on you, with a loud clack. just like that, the apartment was empty, silent and once again, peaceful.
she’d be back, of course, whether she decides to sleep somewhere else and come back the next day or sneak back in here in the middle of the night on this same day, she always comes back after a fight. still, despite knowing that, you couldn’t help but feel like drowning in your own guilt, as this argument wasn’t like any other other. her pained expression still vivid in your memory and terrorizing you, you were afraid that you might never see her again after that.
that was pure dramatization, however.
the only thing that occupied the deafening silence of the room was the muffled sound of julie sniffling and being on the phone with who you assumed to be that boy, already planning to meet up. then, you could’ve sworn you heard the name “eric?” being pronounced as it progressively faded in the distance as she walked away, basically confirming your theory. 
that’s all that filled your house and your clouded mind.
that, and the sound of your pathetic sobbing.
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564 notes ¡ View notes
l-in-the-light ¡ 3 months ago
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Trafalgar Law on touching and being touched
It won't be a perverted post despite the title lol. But I won't stop your imagination, be free!
There's this funny theme going on with Law and Luffy in particular that picked my interest.
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Luffy touched him first.
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And he later returned the gesture, much more awkwardly.
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Again, Luffy grabbed him angrily first.
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Law made sure to return the gesture. (btw he also does it with Zoro, who was the first one to wrap an arm around him at post-Dressrosa feast. In Wano Law has no problem grabbing Zoro and shouts at him angrily. Again, it was Zoro who initiated the touch first).
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Law grabbing Luffy to teleport them makes Luffy react in a curious way, you wanna know why?
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Because it totally feels like this moment. Both Law and Ace, right after getting uncuffed, grabbed Luffy in same way to get him to a safer place. Ace-Law parallel in relation to Luffy kills me. The whole Dressrosa arc's plotline between Luffy and Law is just Marineford Went Well This Time. Ngl I kinda hated Oda at first for that. Now i dig it.
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He didn't seem to like that. Luffy says "Let's all get along well!", but Law thinks alliances don't have to "get along".
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Mistranslation here. What Law says here, being so surprised, is "nakayoshi ka?!" which means "you two get along?!" or "you two are buddy-buddies?!". It's a callback to Luffy declaring that Law and Strawhats crew should get along (he uses same word then, nakayoku-get along), Law learns here that Luffy's crew indeed "gets along well". You can interpret it whatever way you wish, but I will use it this time to put this scene into context:
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The same gesture Luffy did to him before, but Law didn't return it to Luffy - that's because they're not crewmates. But he takes the lesson to heart and "gets along" with his own crew. Omg I can't believe i'm writing it, I make Law sound like this completely awkward adult who doesn't know how to be friends with people.
But bear with me, the shit is only starting. If you don't want to have feels I reccommend you just laugh at it and stop reading here. I digged up a feels landmine by accident. In-depth study starts below!
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It's also a possible callback to the "reassurance" Law got from Cora-san. "I'm counting on you to escape" and Law did. He counts for his crew to steer the submarine well in similar manner.
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Law's family didn't seem very touchy-feely, so please keep that in mind as well. He's got limited experience with touches and the few touches he did get familiar with were either taken away from him or brutalized.
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Law getting patted on the head lovingly by his parent.
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Next time this loving gesture happens, he gets thrown from like two-floor building into a pile of garbage.
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And then he gets lied to that everything will be fine. We all know it wasn't.
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Do you still wonder why he hates being touched on the head?
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The sister touches his face gently while showing child Law support and compassion, reminding him not to despair, someone kind will help him.
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Corazon doing the same gentle touch to the face while crying for him, thinking of all the pain Law had to experience. Indeed, the world sent Law someone kind. And Law lost him and blames himself for that.
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Law holding Lammy's hand while lying to her that it will be alright. He never does that gesture again to anyone.
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The sister holding Law's hand.
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"Don't come closer! Don't touch us! We will get infected!" even doing the barrier gesture (I guess that's why Law doesn't get along with Bartolomeo). I used only few examples, there is much more, I just couldn't bear posting them all. Anyway, Law's got the message, his touch is unwanted. The body and mind remembers this.
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Similar shit said at the auction in Sabaody about Fishmen, we don't see Law's reaction to that, but we can guess already that it was for sure triggering. Those people talking are sitting not that far away from him.
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Ever wondered why Law throws people when teleporting? Besides the fact he avoids making contact with anyone unless they initiate it first, because that trauma is still strong in him ("Stay away! Don't come closer!"), there is one other possible reason:
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Wonder no more! He does it to people because that's how people treated him as well, even people who apparently loved him.
Now that I have ruined the "Law is just an awkward unsocial nerd" joke for you, let me offer something to warm your heart a bit in exchange:
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Corazon made sure to touch Law a lot and hold him in his arms, despite being often clumsy about it. I think he understood Law's trauma about being touched and his fear to touch or approach anyone, and tried to help him overcome it.
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Being hugged and trying to return the gesture. Corazon's efforts did bring some results! But it only works for very few people, Law is still wary of people he doesn't know well. He expects to be unwanted and acts uneccessarily cold, distant and unapproachable because of that. But if you scroll back to the beginning of this post, you can see that he is trying his best to overcome it as well, one step at a time. Some things just can't be rushed.
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And hey, at least he seems to be actually relaxed and almost like he *enjoys* being carried around. You think it makes him look uncool? Definitely. But suddenly it feels like Something Important, kinda intimate in a way and not just a silly comedy moment. It's a sign Law relies on people when he lets them carry him and that's why he doesn't protest.
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Sanji is like "Why are you relaxing like that?! Get off!!" Finally, it makes sense why Law makes such a sour face here. Sanji should be grateful for the rare privileage after all! Anyway, this is anime-only extension, in manga Sanji actually doesn't tell Traffy to get off and Law chooses to scramble by himself, which doesn't taint the fragile trust those two just shared.
For those who made it to the end of this post, have I ruined Law's comedy moments for you forever? Because I sure just did that for myself.
I could also add one more cute thing from One Piece World Seeker Law's dlc, but I will let those interested to discover it by themselves!
I'm also amazed by the consistency of this theme. Both manga and anime never forget that touch is seemingly a big deal for Law.
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azen13 ¡ 2 months ago
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CW: Yandere Themes
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Yandere!Alhaitham x Endangered Animal Hybrid!Reader...
It starts off innocently enough. After escaping a group of Treasure Hoarders looking to sell you off to whoever would pay the most, you find yourself lost in Gandharva Ville for several days until Tighnari finds you. Knowing that you're at risk of being poached due to your rarity, but also knowing that keeping you—a feral, dangerous, and intelligent being—in close proximity to Collei is a bad idea, the Forest Ranger writes to Alhaitham asking him to house you and keep an eye on you.
After several letters sent back and forth over the course of days, it only takes a little bit of begging on Tighnari's part to convince Alhaitham to look after you for a month. Soon enough, you're moving in and sulking around the confines of your new "home", a pout on your face at the fact that you can't escape. After all, for all your strength and agility, Alhaitham possesses a vision and a powerful intellect. You're outmatched.
Despite your attitude, Alhaitham pays you little mind. He makes sure you're fed, hydrated, and healthy, but rarely speaks more than one or two sentences at a time when talking to you. Over the days, the two of you warm up to one another a little, but nothing noticeable changes in the Scribe's demeanor.
Until he comes home one day to you sitting on a sofa, a book plucked from his personal collection spread on your lap. An Introductory Guide to Zoology, the title reads. After a moment, your ears perk up, registering the door creaking. In a flash, you turn to face him, shock painted bright red across your face.
For a few seconds, all you can hear is the battering ram that is your heartbeat smashing against your mind, chastising you for being so stupid. Now you'd be thrown out and defenseless, with plenty of dangerous people who'd jump at the chance to earn a pretty penny by pawning off a rare hybrid such as yourself.
"S-sorry," you say, shaky hands shutting the cover. But before you can, Alhaitham is quick to grab hold of the book, keeping it open.
He's so close to you, to the point where you can see the rise and fall of his chest, the sheen of sweat on his forehead from walking home in the warm weather, the pure intrigue in his eyes at this new discovery.
You intrigue him.
His eyes narrow slightly. "I didn't know you could read?" He glances at the text, discerning what exactly you're studying—if you are studying at all, that is.
You nod. "I learned when I was very young," you say, your own eyes slowly falling to the floor, willing this conversation to be over. Luckily, the divine seem to answer your prayer and Alhaitham simply shrugs and walks away.
Little do you know, the spark of curiosity he allowed you to see had already grown into a roaring fire, burning with the desire to know you. He could hardly call his interest rational, though he does his best to find justifications and act like he believes them.
The month flies by, and you continue to believe that all is well in the world. You've just begun looking through your few belongings, trying to decide what to keep and what to get rid of before you move out, when Alhaitham enters the doorway. "Tighnari told me that you plan to leave in less than a week."
Looking up from the knick-knacks you own, you turn to Alhaitham. "Yeah. I was planning to go back to Gandharva Ville and live there for a few months," you say, your attention beginning to shift back to your possessions. Conversations with Alhaitham mostly ended after one or two sentences, and you had no reason to believe that this conversation would be any different.
"About that." Alhaitham's voice breaks through your focus like glass. "There have been reports from the Matra of increased poaching in the areas around Gandharva Ville. I'm not forcing you to stay, and neither is Tighnari, but we won't be able to protect you there as well as we can here," he says.
You frown. You had been looking forward to leaving for so long now, tired of being cooped up inside Alhaitham's home with only brief walks outside—under the Acting Grand Sage's supervision, of course—to break up the boredom, only to learn that it would be dangerous to leave the city.
"I...I suppose if it's okay, I'd like to stay," you say after a moment of mental debate.
For a moment, you swear you can see the corners of Alhaitham's lips quirk upwards.
"I'll inform Tighnari of your decision as soon as possible." As per usual, after a moment of silence, Alhaitham walks away.
Time seems to fly by in increasingly rapid intervals. One week becomes two. Two weeks becomes four. Four weeks becomes eight, and so on and so forth. You slowly find yourself ensnared by Alhaitham's careful, subtle manipulation. Gandharva Ville really isn't overrun with poachers, but with how sheltered you are, you don't know that.
And week by week, day by day, you don't realize it but Alhaitham is slowly working to decode you. What about you fascinates him so deeply? As he studies you like he would one of his projects, he only finds himself falling deeper and deeper into obsession, an inescapable loop of positive feedback.
The realization comes to him one night, as dreams of you dance in his head as he sleeps. Your hand brushing against his for only a moment. The empty space on the other side of his bed filled by you, his arms holding you close every night. The tender press of your lips against his. The kind of love that transcends human nature. The kind of love that is divine.
Alhaitham is in love.
And now that he knows it, he can't let you go. Luckily for him though, you'll never escape. After all, he's already domesticated you. It's only a matter of time before you learn to love him, too.
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eternalfics ¡ 4 months ago
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giyuu tomioka as your bf !!
a/n: I know I’ve been reposting a lot of stuff but I have finally POSTEDDD 🥳🥳 (ALSO WE REACHED MORE THAN 100 FOLLOWERS. 😆) I’ll make a post about that too. btw there’s a hint of spoilers if u haven’t watched s4
summary: the title lmao 🥰
warnings: kind of angsty 😣
the song I listened to while writing this 😋
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GIYUU TOMIOKA, who loves you more than ever, that he doesn’t want to lose you after his sister and sabito passed away.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who hesitantly starts to date you. he doesn’t let anyone get close to him after his childhood, but he slowly starts to open up to you.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who sometimes lets you braid his hair. he dosent really care, all he does is put it in a ponytail. he’s really glad you don’t look at his face while braiding it, or else you’ll tease him for blushing.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who ALSO has a Cold Soba Noodle speed eating contest with you. after you had heard from tanjiro who did it with him! giyuu was silent ďżźthe whole time, but after awkward silence you suddenly spoke up.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who’s face turns slightly red after you challenge, “If I win, you have to give me a kiss! But if YOU win, I’ll give you a kiss.” “So.. we’re giving kisses either way..?” “Exxactlyy!” you nod proudly.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who wins the contest, making the excuse of : “I was just hungry.” but he blushes furiously when you kiss him on the lips.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who is secretly touch-starved and freezes when you put his head on your chest when you’re trying to cuddle with him. after a few minutes, he eases up and you both sit there in silence. sometimes, he falls asleep and you giggle at him.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who has gift giving as his love language. he gets a little bit bolder with you when he does give you gifts, saying: “it reminded me of you.”
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who knows what makes you flustered. whether it’s caressing your cheek, or getting close to your face. he does it on purpose just to see your reddening face, and the best part for him is acting like he did it on accident.
GIYUU TOMIOKA, who already lost a lot of people because of him, so please don’t leave him like the others did. he knows he’s not a hashira, but soon he’ll think he’s not loveable if you leave too.
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gor3-hound ¡ 9 months ago
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don't hold your breath(nobody's home)
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk
a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3
word count: 1.9k words
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Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.
He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.
Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.
He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.
Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.
He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.
He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.
Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.
You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.
Fuck this.
He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.
“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 
He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.
“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.
“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”
Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.
Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.
You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”
He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.
“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”
There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?
He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.
“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.
You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.
“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.
“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”
Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.
“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.
“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.
“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”
“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”
That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.
“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”
Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.
He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.
“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.
When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.
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moonlinos ¡ 8 months ago
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It’s so tasty, come and chase me
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♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader
♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food
♡ Word count: 2.3k
♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.
♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️
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You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.
Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.
Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.
Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.
“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.
Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.
Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.
He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.
Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.
Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.
He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.
“Weren’t you dying?”
“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.
“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”
Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”
“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”
“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”
You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”
“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”
“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”
He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”
“It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”
You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.
You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).
“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”
“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”
“Then stop disrupting me.”
Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.
“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.
“Be my guest,” you shrug.
Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.
But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.
“Excuse me?”
“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”
You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.
He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.
“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.
“Fuck off.”
Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.
But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.
“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”
He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”
You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.
So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.
“I’d love to help you.”
With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.
Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.
“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”
You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.
“Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.
“Grab the bag for me, hm?”
You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.
He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.
“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”
Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.
“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”
Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.
“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”
“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.
You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.
And then both your eyes land on the cake.
Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.
Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.
“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.
You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.
“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.
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Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.
“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.
After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.
A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.
“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.
“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.
“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”
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♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme
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princesssarisa ¡ 3 months ago
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My post about whether or not Lydia should be saved from Wickham in modern Pride and Prejudice retellings has gotten more likes and reblogs than I expected. It's made me think of another possibility of why Austen didn't save her from him.
Presumably, Lydia and Wickham's marriage could have been avoided in only three ways that would have left Lydia's reputation intact. The first is if they had only been planning to elope, but it was prevented, as with Georgiana. The second is if they had been found earlier and separated before Lydia lost her virginity. Or else Lydia could have listened to Darcy and left Wickham, and then Darcy could have used his influence to protect her honor: e.g. by claiming that she was kidnapped, or by arranging a decent marriage for her.
If Austen had wanted to make any of those choices to free Lydia, she could have done it without drastically changing the plot. But if she had, it might have felt a bit too "literary" and unrealistic.
I've just been re-watching some of Dr. Octavia Cox's literary analysis videos on YouTube. They reminded me that Austen always loved to skewer the tropes and clichĂŠs of other literature, especially Gothic melodrama, whether in outright parody or in subtler deconstruction.
Dr. Cox's video on the elder Eliza's fate in Sense and Sensibility particularly highlights this trend in Austen. She argues that Eliza's story is a classic, clichĂŠd Gothic melodrama (a beautiful orphan, an abusive uncle, thwarted romance, forced marriage to a cruel man, a "fall" into a life of "sin," and ultimate illness and death, all narrated by Colonel Brandon in heightened, poetic language), and that Austen's point in including it was arguably to highlight that this wouldn't be the fate of her heroines. Marianne comes close to it with Willoughby and with her near-fatal illness, but in the end she's saved. Austen's point was arguably to say "Yes, I know all about this type of melodrama, I know all the clichĂŠs, but I'm relegating it to the backstory, because that's not what I want to write."
(I don't know if everyone would interpret the elder Eliza's storyline this way, but it's how Dr. Cox reads it.)
Maybe with Lydia's fate, and with the backstory of how Georgiana was freed from Wickham, Austen was doing something similar.
I'm not enough of an expert on Georgian literature to know if the rescuing of girls from predatory men with their virginity and honor intact was a clichĂŠ or not. But it does appear in late 18th century comic opera. For example, Mozart's Don Giovanni: the title character is the ultimate womanizer, but he has no success with any of the women he tries to prey on over the course of the opera. His seductions are stopped by the timely, chance arrivals of his enemies, his victims get away unscathed, and he pays for his crimes with his life in the end. Or The Marriage of Figaro: the Count's designs on Susanna are thwarted, and he's humiliated and forced to beg his wife's forgiveness.
If stories of womanizers being thwarted and punished, and their female victims saved with virtue intact, were as common in the literature of the day as they are in opera from that era, then maybe Austen used Wickham and Lydia to deconstruct them.
We definitely see some skewering of poetic cliche in the fact that despite Mrs. Bennet's fears/hopes, Lydia's honor is saved with a bribe instead of a duel.
Maybe like the Eliza backstory in Sense and Sensibility, the backstory of Georgiana's near-elopement can be read as a more perfect "literary" example of a girl escaping a cad's clutches. The elopement was thwarted partly by pure chance, as Darcy paid a surprise visit just before Wickham and Georgiana meant to run off, and partly because Georgiana was a “good victim,” whose conscience got the better of her and who chose her family and honor over her whirlwind romance.
But similar luck isn't on Lydia's side, nor does she make the right, “virtuous" choices. Darcy doesn't find the lovers until Lydia has already been living with Wickham, and like a typical reckless teenager, she cares nothing for either her reputation or her family compared to her infatuation with him. So Darcy is forced to bribe Wickham to marry her, Wickham goes unpunished except that he loses his hope of marrying rich, and all the characters have to live with the results of the scandal for the rest of their lives.
By having Georgiana's successful escape from Wickham be mere backstory while foregrounding Lydia's lack of escape, maybe once again Austen was saying "I could have freed Lydia this way – I know the tropes other authors might have used to free her – but I'm a more cynically realistic writer than that, so I won't."
I have no idea if this is valid or not, but it's a theory.
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uniquexusposts ¡ 6 months ago
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The best friend - James Beaufort (3)
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Click here to go to part 2
Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show  Word count: 3547 Note: I just love writing for Maxton Hall. Pls hire me as a scriptwriter xx
Summary: from best friends to... more? When Y/N visits the last lacrosse game of James, things will take a turn
Y/N walked across the campus of Maxton Hall, her footsteps confident on familiar terrain. She wore a polite smile on her face, the kind that spoke of fond memories and an unspoken connection to this place. She had graduated from Maxton Hall just last year, but the school still felt like a second home.
As she made her way to the lacrosse field, where Maxton Hall was playing its last game before the winter break, she couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over her. She greeted a few students when they greeted her. When Y/N arrived at the lacrosse field, she looked around; the game had already started. She expected to be on time, but she was not. Her eyes scanned the field and then the tribune, looking for familiar faces, and she smiled when she spotted Lydia. Y/N tried to blend in with her outfit, but her outfit didn’t match the uniform. However, Y/N was wearing a blue jeans, trainers, a shirt and a in-between coat, it didn’t even came close to the uniforms. 
“Hey, hey,” Y/N smiled when she sat beside Lydia and her friends.
“We were almost scared you wouldn’t make it,” Lydia said. “James wasn’t sure if you would make it.”
Y/N put her hands in her pockets and looked at the field. “There was so much traffic in town. But I’m here now.” Her eyes lit up when she spotted the blue jersey with the number 17 on it. “Did I miss anything?” 
Lydia chuckled. “Not much, just the usual. James is playing really well today, though.”
Y/N watched James skilfully manoeuvred the field, his movements fluid and confident.
“How are you?” Lydia asked. “Long time no see.” The girl looked at Y/N. Lydia had always looked up to Y/N, and she still did. Y/N had everything she didn’t have. Y/N had a gentle soul and a bright spirit, qualities that Lydia cherished. Lydia was blessed to have a friend like Y/N in her life. 
“I’m fine,” Y/N nodded. “Busy with work, making coffees and listening to those endless conversations of customers,” she said and looked at Lydia. “And how are you? Started on studying for the exams yet?” 
Lydia sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. “Barely. It feels like there’s never enough time. Between the regular classes, family, Beaufort and trying to have a sort of social life, I’m barely keeping up.”
Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. “Yeah, I’m glad I had it all last year,” she breathed. “But I’m happy to be here. I missed it here. I missed spending time here with you, at the field, the library… I feel like I entered an entirely different world now.” She nudged Lydia. “But you got this. You’re one of the smartest persons I know, Lyd.”
“Thanks, Y/N/N. If I have questions about anything related to exams, can I call you then?”
“Yes, of course! Even if they are not exams related.”
A grateful smile came on Lydia’s face. “Anyway, how are things going between you and James?” 
There had always been a special connection between Y/N and James. Lydia wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Everyone thought they would have been together by now, replacing the best friend title with girlfriend and boyfriend, but they were still lost in the best friend zone. 
A careful smile came on Y/N’s face; she knew what Lydia was trying to do: she was fishing for information, as always. “Just the usual,” she replied. “We barely have time to see each other. The last time I saw him was during the boat day. We FaceTime every now and then, but we’re both busy.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. 
“Do you miss him?” 
Y/N’s eyes shot to Lydia, who was grinning. “Of course, I miss him. He’s my best friend, and we used to see each other daily. It’s the same as I miss you and all my other friends from here.”
“Uhu,” Lydia hummed and squinted her eyes. “Well, we miss you, too,” Lydia said. “Happy to see you here.”
They both focused on the game. Y/N found herself increasingly drawn to James. She couldn’t help but admire his dedication and skill. There was a moment when he scored a goal, and the crowd erupted in cheers. She widely smiled and looked around; it was just wonderful to see everyone go crazy: all for him. 
Since the boat day, something changed in Y/N, and something switched in her mind and heart. For weeks, she doubted. Y/N and James grew up together; they knew each other from when they were eight years old. She wasn’t exactly sure when it happened. Or even when it started. It could be the day on the boat, it could be before that day, it could be after that day. But she started to realise that she was falling hard for him right here and now. And she could only hope that he was feeling the same way. She wouldn’t tell him about her feelings. She didn’t want to give up their friendship because of her stupid feelings. 
Y/N bit on the inside of her cheek when she felt her cheeks heating up. She could feel Lydia’s eyes burning on her face, but she stared in front of her. She could see Lydia smile from the corner of her eye. 
“Ah, miss Y/L/N! What a surprise to see you here,” Principal Lexington said when he spotted a former student on the tribune. “How have you been? What are you doing now?” 
The right timing, Y/N thought. She engaged in the conversation with Lexington and shared some life updates while looking at the game occasionally. Y/N knew Lexington was being extra kind to her since her parents were paying a lot of extra money at Maxton Hall, even more than the Beaufort’s. 
The final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game. Maxton Hall had won, and the players celebrated on the field. The people in the stands also started to cheer; their team had won. Y/N and Lydia walked down the steps of the stands and headed to the side of the field. 
Everyone in the team took off their helmets and laughed with each other. It was a messy game, but so much fun. James looked towards the side of the field, hoping to see one person. His face lit up when he was Y/N, talking to Lydia. He jogged over with a brilliant smile on his face, his blue jersey clinging to his frame, sweat glistening on his skin. His hair was messy. His eyes sparkled with excitement and pride. 
“Hey,” he said surprised. “You made it.” He dropped his helmet on the grass. “I want to hug you, but…” He looked down, looking at his dirty and sweaty jersey. 
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Y/N replied, holding up her hand. 
James gave her a high five instead of a hug. Their gaze met, and they widely smiled. He waved his fingers together and held her hand for a few seconds before letting it go. “Are you cold?” he pointed at her red cheeks. Y/N and cold? Not a great combo. James knew she was cold when she had red cheeks, kind of like blushing. 
“A little,” she shrugged. 
He looked at Lydia, but she grinned and shook her head. James nodded and walked to his bag. He grabbed a hoodie and handed it over to Y/N. “Here,” he gave her his hoodie. 
“Ey, Beaufort!” 
James glanced over his shoulder and saw his teammates grinning and waiting for him. He turned back to Y/N. “I’ll see you in the canteen, Y/N/N,” he said warmly. Then, he jogged back to his team, who were all whooping and cheering. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he laughed.
Y/N watched him go, her heart fluttering. His smile lingered in her mind, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of longing. But she quickly recovered and looked at Lydia, who looked away. They decided to go to the canteen and wait for the team there, since it started to drizzle. 
As everyone returned to the main building, many greeted Y/N and Lydia. Y/N's time at Maxton Hall had left a lasting impression; she was a familiar face to students and staff. She carried a name everybody knew, not because she stood out dramatically, but because she had a quiet, magnetic presence that drew people to her. She was popular in a way that didn't rely on drama or trouble, quite the opposite of James, who had a knack for getting into mischief.
The contrast between Y/N and James had always intrigued people. Their friendship was like yin and yang; she was the calm, composed one, while he was the lively, unpredictable spirit. Their dynamic was amusing and fascinating to those who watched them navigate their school years together. Some saw them as the perfect couple; Y/N was a beauty, and James… You just fell for James. 
Once inside the canteen, the warmth and noise enveloped them. Students and faculty were milling about, celebrating the victory and catching up with one another. A group of students waved and called out as Y/N and Lydia passed by. Y/N returned their greetings with a warm smile, her presence lighting up their faces. Lydia also smiled. 
“Sometimes… I feel like we are royalty. I imagine myself moving, smiling and talking like a royal,” Y/N smirked and found a free spot at a long table in the middle of the canteen. She removed her coat and slid on James's hoodie, trying not to react to its familiar, comforting scent.
Lydia laughed and took off her coat as well. “Look at yourself,” she replied dramatically, tossing a piece of hair over her shoulder. “No, I get you. Long live the media training we had.”
Even though Y/N didn’t have to deal with the same media pressure as James and Lydia, she still had to attend media training this summer. Well, it was more like she wanted to do it. Y/N’s brother had to do it, and he asked Y/N to join him. Luckily, it was interesting, and Y/N also learned a lot from it. 
Lydia and Y/N talked about some fashion and beauty trends to kill time. It seemed like forever for the boys to arrive at the canteen. To Y/N, it felt like yesterday, she started her final year at Maxton Hall. She was one year above James and Lydia, while Y/N wasn’t that much older than them. They all had their own friends but still found each other during breaks to hang out. 
Finally, the doors to the canteen burst open, and the entire lacrosse team entered. The peaceful hum of conversation was replaced by the loud chatter and laughter of victorious players. Everyone walked to the long table Lydia and Y/N had claimed and sat down with more friends. Lydia got up and moved to another chair to let James sit beside Y/N. 
“Looks good on you,” James winked while sitting beside Y/N. 
Y/N’s lips curved into a smile. “Congratulations, you were amazing. That goal, though,” she said impressively. 
He placed his arm on the backrest of her chair and satisfyingly smiled. “Thank you, thank you,” he said with a broad smile, still slightly flushed from the game. “I didn’t see you when we started. When did you arrive?”
“Just missed the start,” she said and shrugged. “The traffic was drama.”
James moved close to her face. “I almost thought you forgot it,” he whispered. 
Y/N turned her head to him. His face was close. “Never,” she replied. “And even if I had to, I would let you know.”
They were talking about the game and later moved on to other topics like work, school, and other things. They hadn’t seen each other for over two months, and even though they FaceTimed, they had to catch up on a lot of things. 
Across from Y/N and James, his friends and Lydia were looking at him, laughing and talking in ways they hadn’t seen before. James seemed so happy to talk to Y/N and couldn’t stop smiling. Y/N was always smiling, but this smile meant more. 
“They say they are best friends, ‘just friends’, but literally everyone who ever looked at them when being together, like now, just knows they are something more. It’s so fucking obvious they had fallen for each other, but they just don’t admit it. Look at her; the way she looks at him is like he is her world, and the way he smiles is just happiness when he looks at her. And he barely smiles this happy,” Alistair said. 
Eyebrows around him raised. “Did you really say that?” Wren asked. 
“How poetic, didn’t know you had that in you,” Cyril added, taking a sip from his drink. 
Alistair sighed and shook his head. “Do I see things wrong, then?” 
“No,” Cyril smirked. “They’re both so fucking blind.” He looked at Lydia, who seemed to agree with everything the boys said. “Would it be a problem if they get together?”
Lydia took a moment to think. “I don’t think so. She has the name. And our families do businesses.” She leaned back on her chair. “However…” She squinted her eyes. “I don’t see Y/N being part of Beaufort or Y/L/N. Her brother is going for Y/L/N because he wants to. Y/N doesn’t have to do so…”
“Thanks for your technical opinion,” Cyril replied. “But they are allowed to get together. Where are we waiting for?” 
“Let them be. They’re close. Give them just a few more days, possibly hours,” she responded. 
As the afternoon progressed, the energy in the canteen remained high. Cyril and Wren planned a party tonight to celebrate their win and the beginning of the winter stop. 
“Y/N—” Cyril started but paused when he saw Y/N yawn. He raised an eyebrow, and she felt caught. “You are invited to the party tonight. So be there.”
James looked at her, smiling, hoping that she would join. It had been a while since she attended a party.
“I’d love to,” Y/N said, dodging another yawn. “But I’m passing.”
“Y/N…” several people protested in unison.
“I’ve been awake since five o’clock this morning and worked five days this week. Don’t mind me,” she defended herself. “But go party. You do you. Have fun.”
James’s smile faltered slightly. He understood her exhaustion but had hoped she’d be there. He reached out and gently touched her arm. She looked at him. “Are you sure? We can go home, and you can take a power nap,” he softly said. 
She bit her lip, reconsidering her decision. “I’m passing… But you should go. I will be there next time, I promise,” she smiled. “I just don’t feel like it today.” She looked back at the boys. “Next time, amigos.”
“Next week,” Cyril said. “Put it in your agenda. You show up, okay? No excuses.” He pointed at her. 
Lydia sighed. “If she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t have to go.”
“I’ll be there next week,” Y/N said, grabbing her phone. She looked gratefully at Lydia. With just a few clicks, she added the event to her agenda. “You guys go and have a blast. I’ll catch up with you soon, but I’m going home now.” She got up and grabbed her coat. 
James looked at her. “I will bring you home,” he offered and got up as well. Y/N parted her lips, ready to say that she had her own car, but he shared that one look; the look that it was his decision and nothing could change it. “I will see you, boys,” he said. 
“You will be there tonight, Beaufort,” Wren sternly said. 
James walked away with Y/N on his side, throwing his hand in the air, but not saying anything. He wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and lightly grinned when Y/N wrapped her arm around his waist. With his other arm, he threw his back over his shoulder. Together, they walked through the halls of the school to the parking lot. 
“I drove myself to here,” Y/N reminded him. 
“Uhu,” he hummed. “I know.”
They walked in comfortable silence, the echoes of their footsteps filling the empty corridors. James's presence felt reassuring and warm, and Y/N found herself leaning slightly into him as they moved. Within minutes, they were standing next to Y/N’s car. Well, her parents’ car. 
“Last time, you drove. Now it’s my turn,” he said. 
She squeezed her eyebrows together and looked confused at him. “Aren’t you supposed to go to that party? You’re the star of the show, after all.” She was searching for the keys in the pockets of her coat. 
“I just heard there’s also a party next week, with my star on my side,” he replied and snatched the keys out of her hand. He opened the trunk of the car and threw his stuff in it. “There are more parties. They can party without me.”
“Who are you, and what did you do to James Beaufort?” Y/N crossed her arms in front of her chest, tilting her head. “Since when do you say no to a party?”
James smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since I want to spend time with you,” he casually replied. “I haven’t seen you for ages.”
Y/N blinked in surprise, the playful banter catching her off guard. “Really?” she asked, a hint of scepticism in her voice. “What happened to the party animal I know?”
James stepped closer, his expression softening. “Sometimes priorities change,” he said quietly. “And right now, you’re my priority.”
Before she could respond, he cupped her face gently, his touch warm against her skin. Without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her. It was a soft, lingering kiss, filled with all the unspoken feelings that had been building between them for years. He pulled back and looked at her with a wide smile, while she stood still, processing what had just happened. Her arms hung limply by her sides, her heart racing in her chest.
James smirked, stepped away, and walked around the car to get in. Y/N just stared ahead, blinking a few times as she tried to comprehend the moment. Her fingers reached for her lips, where he had been just seconds ago. The warmth of his kiss lingered, sending a shiver down her spine.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced towards the school entrance; his friends and Lydia were standing there, all looking shocked and impressed at the same time. It meant that they saw it happening. Y/N’s jaw dropped, and she looked at them. Then she covered her mouth with her hand. They all laughed at her reaction. She covered her entire face when she felt she was blushing. Y/N took a deep breath and walked to the passenger’s side of the car. 
“Take him, Y/N,” Wren said on an average volume, but Y/N still could hear him. 
Her eyes shot up to the boys, Lydia and everyone else standing there. They were all grinning. Alistair stomped on Wren’s foot, likely as a signal to give them some privacy. Y/N quickly stepped into the car, closing the door behind her. James sat relaxed, trying to act like nothing had happened, but the blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed him. It was a sight Y/N had never seen before; James Beaufort, blushing.
She bit her lip, trying to process the moment. James swallowed hard and turned to look at her. When their gazes met, both their expressions straightened, the weight of the situation settling between them.
Without another word, Y/N leaned in and kissed him once again. This time, it wasn’t out of surprise or uncertainty; it was deliberate, a confirmation that they were on the same page. The kiss was gentle yet filled with a new intensity, a silent agreement that whatever was between them was real and worth exploring.
James responded instantly, his hand finding the back of her neck, pulling her closer. When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. 
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he confessed, his breath warm against her lips.
A smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's mouth, her heart soaring at his words. "Me, too," she admitted softly, her voice filled with the same depth of emotion.
Taglist: @notacoffeedrinker @tvshowgirl81 @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry
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emeritusemeritus ¡ 1 year ago
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Squirm, Hellfire Queen [Eddie Munson X Reader]
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Title: Squirm, Hellfire Queen.
Pairing: Eddie Munson X Reader {Established Relationship}
Timeline: S4, No mention of Vecna.
Summary: You’re a little uncomfortable at Hellfire Club and Eddie investigates.
Warnings: Mentions of smut, creampies, cum, cumplay, secret relationships. Swearing (it’s Eddie after all). Dustin being my favourite character to write once again. I don’t think ‘Freak’ is mentioned but it’s my own HC that he’s called Richard, in case that comes up. Not beta read nor spellchecked, we die like Chrissy.
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"Dude, you okay?" Dustin asks, leaning over the table towards you, earning an immediate glare from the dungeon master from interrupting the game. Dustin holds up his hands in surrender sarcastically, falling back into his seat and focusing his attention back on the game, all under the watchful eye of the seemingly omniscient dungeon master.
A few minutes pass before you move again, adjusting your hips in your seat as you wince subconsciously, earning you another confused glance from Gareth, sitting directly across from you.
"You saw it too? Right!" Dustin speaks out again, clicking his fingers mid air as he turns to you with a questioning gaze.
Heat rushes to your cheeks as you feel a blush bloom over your face at the attention you were unwittingly receiving. You shake your head, trying not to meet anyone's gaze, pretending to focus all of your attention at the game, analysing your character sheet to study your hit points.
You attempt to keep yourself under control, not to draw any more attention to yourself then you have already but only a few moments later your eyes close and you suck in a silent breath, fighting every instinct you have not to squirm in your seat.
Your writhing and obvious discomfort had caught the attention of the dungeon master sat at the head of the table, his gaze focusing in on you as he watches your curious movements. You can feel his gaze blazing on you and so you finally find the courage to look up at him, meeting his gaze.
You thought initially that he would be angry with you, for drawing away attention from his, frankly brilliant, campaign but as you gazed in his eyes, it was clear that not a single ounce of anger was present. Instead, he looked upon with intense curiosity and intrigue, eyes wide and orientated upon your figure. The table blocked the majority of his view of you, but he watched with interest as you readjusted your hips in your seat, pulling down on your skirt, full lips parted in a small 'o' shape, eyes fixed on nothing in the distance.
When you met his eyes again, your blush deepened, eyes widening like a deer in headlights as you tried to avert your gaze immediately. A smirk tugged at the side of his mouth as he realised exactly what was happening. He took a brief look around at his little sheep around him, each of them blissfully ignorant of what was happening just a few seats down.
"Eddie?" Mike asks gently, trying to get his attention.
"Huh?" Eddie asks, not realising that he had zoned out, lost in his own thoughts.
"We decide to flee," Mike says slowly, gesturing with his eyes to look at the game board below, seeing that there was so way out of the trap Eddie had created.
"Oh yeah man, course," Eddie says, earning a mixture of questioning and confused glances from the boys, and girl, around the table, each of them expecting him to make a bigger deal of it.
"Tell you what, we hang it up right here, next week we begin from this point exactly and you give me your intelligent decision then," Eddie says, clasping his hands together as he sits back on his throne, eyes squinting as he smirks.
"Princess, a word?" Eddie says, using your nickname as he looks directly at you. You nod, silently, laughing gently as the rest of the boys 'ooo' at you, assuming you are in trouble.
They quickly gather their belongings, saying bye to the dungeon master and the princess as they head out the door, leaving the rest of the cleanup to Eddie as usual.
Once he is confident that everyone has dispersed, the dungeon master leaps up from his throne and strides over to the door, locking it from the inside. He turns and fixes his dangerous gaze upon you, a smug smirk pulling at his lips as he begins to saunter over to you.
"It appears you caused a scene Princess," he says threateningly, running his hands along the back of your chair. You open your mouth to apologise but think better of it, no longer feeling embarrassed by your 'issue' now you were alone with the perpetrator.
"I'm not really the one to blame here am I, master?" You snark back, your voice breathy and deep, exactly how you knew he liked it. He cursed under his breath, especially at hearing his title, something he always enjoyed hearing fall from your lips.
"Pray tell, what is causing the fair maidens troubles?" He asks dramatically, leaning down to tower over you, his lips ghosting you neck as he speaks. You were about to open your mouth with another sarcastic reply but instead, decided to show him. You scooted your chain back every so slightly, the chair grinding on the linoleum floor the only sound that could be heard in the silent room.
His gaze immediately fixes on the skin of your thighs, your skirt riding up as you took your seat.
With a dangerously flirty smirk, you open your legs wide enough for him to see exactly what has been causing your discomfort during the hellfire session, your skirt riding even further up with your movement, blocking any obstruction.
He breaths in a sharp breath, curses falling from his lips as his eyes bulge, his gaze fixated on the space between your thighs, showing him exactly what your problem was.
Between your thighs, your panties were completely soaked, melded to your puffy pussy lips, with extra wetness leaking out onto the seat below you, pooling under your butt.
He's frozen to the spot, fixated on the sight before him, unable move, unable to speak.
"Seems like it's more of an 'us' problem to me, dungeon master," you tease, lifting your hand to run one finger over your panties and into the little pool below, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his cum beneath your finger.
"Jesus Christ," is all he manages to spit out, his eyes following your finger diligently as it trails gently over your panties, still sensitive from your activities earlier.
One of the most wonderful things about Eddie is just how much he cums. It's like he's hoarding it, right up until the last second where he unleashes everything he has, flooding you and leaving no doubt to where he's been.
"No wonder you were squirming sweetheart," he says, finally breaking his gaze to look up into your eyes, seeing a smile on your lips that completely knocks him for six. The mixture of your sweet smile, deliciously used body and evidence of his defilement was enough to render him completely useless, brain turning to mush as he looks at you with all the love and adoration he can. His tone is gentle again, using the pet name he favoured for sweet moments, if that was what you would call this. "To think I was going to ask you to stand and address the class," he smirks, shaking his head slightly.
"Yeah something tells me that would have been a disaster, I could barely keep your load in sitting down!" You reply, giggling. His lips part and his eyebrows shoot up as he lets out a strangled groan at your words, your beautiful, dirty mouth always affecting him. "You think the guys noticed?" You asked suddenly, worrying that someone would have caught on to your discomfort.
No one knew what was happening, what had been happening, between you and Eddie for quite some time. You'd been best friends from your first encounter, though the friendship was laced with innuendos, teasing, flirtation and downright mutual pining right from the very beginning. Your relationship had bloomed organically, never having felt so right, but it was locked away as both of your dirty little secrets. You'd become close with all the hellfire club and the bigger friendship group around it and were concerned about the implication it could have on your friendships if you just became 'Eddie's girl'.
You'd been successfully hiding your relationship for nearly 7 months and so far, not a single person had caught on.
"Sweetheart, I say this with all the love and devotion in the world, those guys wouldn't have a single clue about this sort'a thing," he smirks, leaning in to kiss you.
"Two of them have girlfriends!" You reply, breaking away, trying to argue the point. He snorts, shaking his head, leaning in for another kiss.
"Trust me baby, they're clueless nerds," he says with a sarcastic smile.
"As opposed to you... dungeon master," you reply sarcastically. He immediately reaches out to grab you, tickling your sides but he stops when you let out a strangled gasp, thinking he'd hurt you.
"What, baby, wh-?" He panics, causing you to laugh.
"Lets just say, I'm pretty sure I'm empty now," you blush, gesturing down to the chair below you where even more of Eddie's cum has leaked out in your frantic movements. He bites back a groan again at the scene before him and immediately looks up at you with a smirk.
"Can't have that can we sweetheart? Just gonna have to fill you up aaaall over again."
"Promises, promises," you smirk, pulling him down for one last kiss, before attempting to stand up, your face twisting into a grimace as you do. Eddie offers his hand out for you and helps you up onto the seat, his eyes flicking to your now unoccupied chair and he tries to fix the image to his memory for later use.
"We really need to start using condoms," you mutter, feeling the sticky residue clinging to your lower half, frowning at the state of the chair. You were on the pill, so no risk there, but situations like this were growing ever more frequent... and uncomfortable.
"Blasphemy!" Eddie mutters, pulling you in to him arms as his ringed hand comes to play with your hair and your jaw. You laugh sweetly at his outburst and he chuckles deeply to himself as his eyes wonder over your face.
You both pull away and immediately set to packing away all the game pieces, books and sheets that litter the table, both ready to be out of this room.
You grimace as you walk over to a cabinet at the side of the room, the wet clothes becoming increasingly uncomfortable as you bend down to reach for a pack of antibacterial wipes which are stored in the little cleaning cupboard. You make quick work of cleaning up the chair you'd defiled and can't help but laugh with Eddie as he sees just how many wipes it takes to clean it up.
Throwing the used wipes in the trash, you look over to Eddie who has packed everything into his cardboard box and is waiting for you.
You pause, weighing up your options before bending down and peeling off the wet panties, feeling an immediately chill as your bare pussy hides underneath your skirt. Eddie doesn't bother to hide his groan as he sees you take off your panties, before stuffing them inside your lunch bag so that they wouldn't ruin any of your notes.
"You're telling me, I've got to walk these halls, get across the car park and drive us all the way home, knowing that there's nothing under your little skirt?" He groans, pulling you towards him as you walk closer. You immediately feel the telling bulge pressed against you as he holds you tightly to him, causing you to smirk.
"That depends," you tease, running your fingers over his neck, making his breathing deeper and shaky with arousal.
"On what, Princess?" He asks, eyes blazing.
"We could wait... tease each other slowly and let it simmer until we get back to your trailer where you can have me however and wherever you want," you tease, your mouth pressing kisses to his throat as you speak, smiling as you feel his bulge jumping and throbbing at your hip. "Or, I could offer you some relief right now..." you say, pouting your lips in such a way that he knows exactly what you mean. "Though, if you can't wait, I can't promise that I can wait till we get home to play with my little pussy myself."
"Fuck," he curses, followed by a near painful groan as he takes in your words, his entire body shaking to try and calm himself. He reaches down to adjust himself completely without subtlety and groans again at the slightest touch. "Van. Now."
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jackoshadows ¡ 9 months ago
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It's so confusing and weird that Bridgerton introduced in world racism both with Lady D and Simon in season one of the show and in Queen Charlotte and at the same time they also want the audience to accept that somehow Marina Thompson or the dark skinned Indian Kate Sharma has more privilege and power than Penelope Featherington?
Kate Sharma was also poor, so much more than the Featheringtons. She depended on Lady D to host them. The Sharmas were looked down on by the ton because Mary Sheffield married an Indian. The Sharmas were disowned and ostracized by the Sheffields.
Kate was also an unmarried spinster. No one was asking Kate to dance. As much as Kate wanted love and romance and to dance at a ball wearing pretty dresses, she got none of that. She was also the woman on the sidelines watching as others danced and fell in love.
Racism and colorism is also very much a thing in eurocentric notions of beauty considering the setting and characters of Bridgerton is 99% white.
We got so little of Kate's backstory, of who her parents where - we didn't even get their names!! - of the trauma (explained for both Simon and Anthony using flashbacks) that had Kate overlooking her own happiness for that of her sister.
Despite bragging nonstop about the diversity of Bridgerton the showrunners thought that the white Featheringtons needed more screentime in season 2 rather than the South Asian family.
And Kate was planning on going back to India and work as a governess to pay for her livelihood. Because, you know, there's more honest ways of being a 'working woman' than running the equivalent of the regency 'Daily Mail' dragging other women down. The modiste Madame Delacroix, Kate planning to teach and Sienna in season one are all working to pay a living. Black, brown and lower class women looking to alleviate poverty.
And considering how much harder Kate already had it as an outsider in the ton, it wouldn't have been easy with Penelope using her gossip rag to describe the unmarried Indian woman as ' a Spinster of a beast'. What did Kate do to Penelope to warrant this? Nothing. Just a way for Penelope to make money at Kate's expense.
That's the thing I dislike the most about the way the character of Penelope is written on the show - her victims don't deserve her vitriol and are often in much worse circumstances than her. From Kate Sharma to the unnamed seamstress who apparently lost all her customers because Penelope wrote falsely about their work in the her tabloid as a bribe for Madam Delacroix.
And I think that's what I find problematic about the writing of the show and even the discourse surrounding it - when characters like Marina Thompson (the poor black cousin who would have ended up destitute on the streets because of Penelope) and Kate Sharma arguably have it far worse than Penelope Featherington as per the show's writing and yet we are supposed to have the most sympathy for Penelope because her crush Colin didn't love her back and she's a curvy white woman?
I guess that's the difference between how I perceive this world and these characters as a woc and the majority white female audience for this show and it's such a huge disconnect for me. I guess this is also partly because the show has this badly written and 'strangely toothless racism' as Ash Sarkar beautifully put it. As in the racism is treated in this world as a little problem solved by handing out a few titles to black people instead of being a white supremacist ideology which treated black and brown people as inferior, serfs and slaves.
From what little we got from season 2, Kate Sharma definitely did not have it easy navigating the ton as a poor outsider and that certainly contributed to her poor choices. She is also put through the wringer, treated like the other woman, is miserable for several episodes, had to apologize again and again and nearly die before Edwina forgives her!
In contrast Penelope's actions have hurt so many and yet she gets a pass by both the show and a fandom that wants Colin to grovel before her because of a single offhand remark and because he didn't return her affections.
Also making it clear here that I am not comparing Penelope to the male characters who always get the better writing, flaws and all. I am comparing Penelope to the female characters of colour - Kate Sharma and Marina Thompson.
I mean, Marina Thompson gets so much vitriolic and sexist hatred for not having told Colin Bridgerton the truth of her pregnancy. How dare Marina hurt this privileged white man Colin Bridgerton. When she was desperate to not end up destitute on the streets or get raped by old white men. And yet Penelope gets a pass for hurting women like Marina and Kate.
It continues a trend of white female characters never being held to the same standard as female characters of colour. Daphne sexually assaults Simon in season one and that was not even addressed on the show. Male rape is apparently no big deal because Daphne wanting children is what's important. It's Simon who has to apologize and within one episode resolve his trauma and accept being a father. This is despite both Daphne and Penelope having more screentime and more writing that builds their character unlike the stick thin writing given to Kate Sharma in season 2.
So yeah, I will be checking into season 3 to watch the ten minutes we get with Kate Sharma since we got so little of her in her own season and it's so singular to get dark skinned south Indian characters in a period drama romance like this. It's just the way the writing on the show, the production and even the fandom treats it's characters, especially characters of colour has been disappointing to say the least.
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