#you know that groups of people do things together all the time without anyone being in charge right?
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kilowogcore · 7 months ago
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Anarchy in Structure
So what is anarchism? Well a lotta amazin' philosophers an' political theorists have written essays an' books an' all sorta stuff on that subject.
But they don't run this account, so instead yer gonna get a straightforward an' simple guy's understandin' of it. I ain't gonna pretend ta' be the best read on theory, I ain't gonna pretend I understand every single possible question. In fact, in order ta' keep this short, I'm gonna have ta' generalize a whole lot. But here's how I see it.
A lotta people who ain't studied anarchy think it means no state, no laws, no rules, no nothin'. That ain't it. It just means there ain't no hierarchy. No hierarchy don't mean no structure. It just means the structure ain't got rulers an' subjects. It's a system where everyone's got equal power within the structure.
What does yer boss actually do? Well if ya' got a typical job, they probably draw up plans ta' coordinate yer team, ta' give ya' a single vision so ya' can all work together, they plan yer work schedules, an' they deal with a lotta admin paperwork.
So here's my question - why do they have ta' be in charge ta' do all that? All that work can be done without havin' the power ta' hire 'n fire people. Ya' don't need ta' control people ta' do admin an' coordination work.
Ah, but who's gonna force the workers ta' follow the plan? But if there ain't no bosses, if everyone's equal, then that means every worker has a stake in the company equal ta' the work they do. It means that when they do good, the company does good, an' everyone profits. So why wouldn't they follow it voluntarily? Sure, there'll be some contrarians an' jerks who don't just cuz, but not enough ta' tank the company.
See how that works? No one person is in charge makin' these decisions, an' as much as possible is voluntary.
I'm usin' a company still concerned with profit as an example cuz it's a well-known kinda structure, but this works fer any kinda structural need, includin' ones with no direct profit motive.
Now, I'm sure ya' got questions, but here's the thing: This ain't theoretical. Worker co-ops already exist. Anarchist communities already exist. And while they exist within a larger super-structure of capitalism, they show how anarchy can work within a structure but without a hierarchy. If ya' got questions, ya' can see the solutions these existin' systems come up with. Ya' can also look up anarchist theory on websites like The Anarchist Library.
I can't answer every question in a single post, I'm just tryin' ta' get ya' ta' challenge whether or not individual authority an' power are really necessary ta' get stuff done.
I think it ain't.
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foxmulderautism · 1 year ago
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beau is such a trailblazer of an oc cause he's the first dallonwrites protagonist to have a good relationship with his family
#LMAOOOO LIKE#i know they're the type of family who would have a group chat together and that concept is so wildly foreign to me#my relationship w my family is actually fine dw it's just like all recovering from things. we make do#felix and dorothy were definitely like the product of me fully realising i had a fucked up childhood and not being able to get therapy#i think my whole pov on it is changing now though which is interesting#like i havent outgrown RR but i would never write the things i decided for that story if i came up with it now#but 20 year old me wanted to write about those things for a reason so it's almost become a time capsule#i actually have sooo many thoughts of this because my brain is so interesting to me lately#recently more often than not i hate reading characters with fucked up childhoods from other writers#idk why but i'm just like. i want the kids left alone for the most part!#some more than others and its like i dont know what the reasoning is because its not like i can know where their inspo is coming from#(that's another thing i want to write about one day because i do think some people esp newer writers like#don't fully know how to write an interesting backstory yet or aren't confident in it so they lean on#very traumatic childhood things like abuse neglect addiction etc.#and without saying what I Went Through it's very interesting when you see things you went through IRL#that for others are just like interesting character development ideas#NOT TO MAKE ANYONE FEEL BAD! because i mean i do and have done it before with things irrelevant to me#it's just something i've noticed and like. i think easy to sensationalise when you're a newer writer#even things you HAVE gone through)#not me testing the waters for essays in the side blog tags again. i need to actually write something for my silly little substack#actually similarly to this i rly want to write abt how i can't get with the whole my old writing is so bad and cringe!!! anymore#bc now i know younger me was in such a scary place and needed those cringey stores#but i need to do it in a specific way bc i dont think that line of thinking is problematic. i just cant do it
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prael · 17 days ago
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Day 1: Scandal
Aespa Karina x male reader smut
words: 4,260 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist
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They're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster. People scrambled in the aftermath, but the damage had been done, the proverbial milk spilt. And oh, did the milk spill alright. It sounds like everyone had tuned in right around the country. Hell, right around the world.
If they didn't catch it live, then they certainly caught the post-game replays.
There are a lot of those going around.
No amount of damage control could have prevented it from exploding all over the Internet and into every gossip rag imaginable. But damn it if her PR team hadn't tried to stop it anyway. They had gone on the offence—attacking everyone and anyone who had even so much as hinted at the incident. Filing every legal document they could just get it removed.
It doesn't matter. The damage is done. The ties are cut and you're both hung out to dry.
Well before it happened, there had been warnings. Karina was still fresh off the back of her first Dispatch leak. The two of them weren't even really dating. Two young, rich and hot adults were just fooling around, so once it hit the press and the online articles came in, she took the axe to that relationship right away. She could always find another dick to ride on.
That she did; your dick, and damn did she ride it.
It was a friend of a friend thing. You know one of those 'I showed this girl your picture and she wants to get to know you' things. To be honest, you thought it was a joke. Of course, you did. How often does some K-pop starlet want to have dinner with you?
Anyway, three months down the line and you're two and half months deep into, well, being deep into her.
Her apartment is nice. Her bed is nicer, or at least it is with her in it.
You spent night after night together doing every nasty, carnal thing she wanted. She loves it. You would come to realise she's a bit of a nymphomaniac—and you fucking love it. But, even still, you kept it casual. Kept it quiet.
Didn't work too well.
There was a close call, once.
You put it down to getting a little too comfortable. The guard slipped for just the briefest moment of weakness. Though, if anything, you would at least put part of the blame on the whole system. See, Karina can't catch a flight without the entire thing being documented. She arrives at the airport and they're all there waiting with cameras in hand to get the latest snap of her airport fashion as she comes out of the van. They know what flight she's on and the exact departure time, and then when she lands there's another group of fans waiting.
So it goes without saying, you two can't just waltz in there hand-in-hand. So you book the same flight, seated far enough away from her that no one would question a thing. You shouldn't speak, not until you're safely at the other end and in the privacy of the hotel room, but Karina is Karina.
So she texted you, this one time in the departure lounge. A twenty-minute window and directions to the toilets of the private lounge. There, in the small cubicle, you slipped down her jeans, turned her around, bent her over and made her feel good.
It was quick and messy. Nothing like how the sex would be in her hotel later that night. You had her cheek pressed against the door of the cubicle, your hand covering her mouth to stifle the noise, and your dick going balls deep in her hot pussy while her hand rubbed away at her clit. It was desperate and hungry—more the need to release the sexual tension than to enjoy it.
But damn was it fun.
She deepened the arch of her back and presented herself just that bit more for you and you watched every inch go inside her with each thrust. Watched as your cock spread apart those soft pussy lips of hers and vanished into the warm embrace of her body. Her ass shook as your hips slapped against it and eventually, her legs trembled so much that you had to wrap your arm around her waist to keep her up.
But when you came—and you came deep—someone entered the bathroom. Their presence was unknown until you heard the faucet run. For a brief, horrifying moment you thought it might be someone waiting to bust you.
A security guard or maybe a tabloid reporter ready to get their story. The scandal of the century? Not quite.
Just another passenger. They didn't even realise who they were next to as they washed their hands. But the idea that you both could've been caught, had Karina let that moan slip or if you hadn't just stopped pounding her against the door so hard that it rattled the hinges.
Afterwards, with your spent dick sliding out from between her tight thighs, it was something Karina whispered in your ear. She said, "That was close. We'll have to be more careful."
If only you knew just how careless she was about to be...
See, it was a pretty normal evening. She texted you a time to come over, and you took all the usual precautions. (There's a side door into the block and a service elevator that Karina made sure to get the passcode for.) Admittedly, you got there five minutes early, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and since the first time, Karina made sure to leave a sock on the bedroom door just in case it happened again. She was streaming, you see, an Instagram live session. One of those things where the adoring fans get to listen to their idols talk about themselves, or their day, or sometimes with Karina, something a little out of the ordinary.
So you waited. A drink of water, sitting on her couch, and letting curiosity take over. You opened up her Instagram, watched her for a few minutes, and smiled to yourself because, as usual, she was simply being Karina. No topic, just rambling, but there were thousands watching anyway, because well, why wouldn't they?
A smile crept onto your face as you watched, knowing that she was in the next room, just looking that good, and soon enough you would be in there ravishing her. There were thousands upon thousands of other people, jealous of you without even realising you existed, who would give almost anything to be in your shoes—to be able to do the things you do to Karina. Fuck, some of them would probably sell everything they owned.
Then she started saying goodbye to people. Signing off, wishing them a good night, whatever. So you locked the phone and waited until she came down the hallway.
She was moving quickly, right towards you. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor in hurried little slaps. She jumped right into your lap without so much as a 'Hello', and she clamped her legs, clad in tight yoga pants, around your waist. She grabbed either side of your face and kissed you, a hand reaching back and pulling on the hair at the base of your skull as she did.
And it wasn't soft either.
It was fierce and aggressive. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, pushing against your own, flicking over your teeth. She ground herself against the erection growing beneath her and breathed hot breath against your lips while biting down on the lower one.
"You," she gasped. "Take me to the bedroom... Now."
"Hi to you too," you joked, putting your arms under her butt.
She was so very easy to carry. Maybe because you had done it so many times before. But she had always been a light little thing, so slender apart from exactly the places you would want her to be big. It always made it so easy to pin her against the wall with her leg over your shoulder, to press her up against the shower and bounce her up and down on your cock while steam filled the bathroom. But mostly it was great because you could easily throw her down on the bed.
Tonight wasn't going to be any different.
Except it was, wasn't it? But neither of you knew that just yet.
As you walked toward her room, holding her gorgeous body up with nothing but a firm grasp on her ass, she kept whispering things to you. Whispered them right against your ear, her voice low and husky as she did. She told you about all the things that she wanted you to do to her. The things that she wanted to do to you. Like some raw, filthy script of a play long overdue to be performed.
"...and then I want you to put it right back in my pussy and cum in me again and again," she said it right as you pushed through the door. Look, Karina's room isn't that huge, but when you're dying to get your cock into her, going all the way to the bed seemed like such a pain when there was a perfectly good wall right there. You turned and pinned her against it.
There you two stayed for a while, locked in that embrace, kissing and nibbling. She wrestled your shirt off over your head while you peeled up her sports bra. You bent your head down to her chest and kissed along the valley between her breasts. Her soft skin warm against your lips, and you kept pressing them down on her, leaving faint wet marks until you reached one of those pert pink nipples. You cupped her tit and you sucked. Hard.
A little whimper of appreciation followed by a slight tremble through her body was the response.
You went from one to the other. Fingers caressing one and your mouth on the other, switching between them, never fully committing to either, keeping her guessing as to which nipple would feel the bliss next. Karina knew what she wanted, and she simply wouldn't wait. Maybe the rush to get fucked could be blamed for all of this.
See, while you sucked her tits, she pulled down her leggings and her underwear. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was convenience, but she didn't even pull them past her knees. Instead, as you continued your adoration, she unbuckled your belt and let your trousers fall to the floor. Your underwear didn't last long either. She gave a couple of lazy strokes up the length of your cock, just enough for her to feel it getting hard. Enough for her to know you could give her what she needs.
She twisted between you and the wall and leaned against it; her tits pressing against the white paintwork, and she stuck out her ass. "Don't hold back," she instructed. "I need it."
For all the focus you gave her tits, Karina does have a hell of an ass.
So with her arms up above her head and grasping high, she looked perfect. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass—it was just to be grabbed and slapped. Those legs looked fucking perfect, slightly muscled from hours of dance practice but still so thin and lean. And between them... fuck. If there's such a thing as a pussy so good it should win awards then Karina better prepare her speech.
You weren't gentle.
Gentle doesn't work for her. Gentle is boring. Normal. Vanilla. Karina's tasted it all before and she's bored. You won't remember the first time she said those words to you. She made you promise not to judge her but she told you exactly how depraved and slutty she really wants to be in bed.
So when she said, "Fuck me hard," you did exactly that.
Spit on your cock was enough to get it slick. You stroked the tip up and down across her waiting pussy a couple of times and found the right place. Then you slid it right inside her, letting it rest buried for just a moment before you pulled back. You didn't even go halfway before you thrust it right back into her. Right down to the balls. Deep as you can go.
A pleasured hiss passed over clenched teeth as her cheek pressed against the wall and she nodded, just once, telling you that she wanted more. You fucked her harder, feeling her hot insides clench at your cock. Her hips smacked against the wall with each thrust, the room echoing with the sounds of your flesh coming together. The squelch of her wet hole was barely audible over her cries. Cries that steadily increased in volume the longer you held her against the wall, the more aggressively you bucked your hips against her, the harder you drove your dick into her body.
"Don't stop!" she cried out as her legs shivered.
No danger of that.
Maybe you should have.
Karina was struggling. To not fall apart in your hands, to hold herself against the wall, but also just to keep breathing as the intensity of your deep pounding washed over her, making her shudder and shake in front of you. One of her hands flew down to between her legs. The tips of her fingers went in a circle around her clit.
But as much fun as taking her against the wall was, she would fall if you continued.
So you did what you knew you could so easily do, just threw her. Her quivering body collapsed onto her bed after a small stumble. Right into the one place in the room, she shouldn't be.
See, Karina was sitting just here, maybe ten minutes earlier. You were watching, on your phone. She had chatted and joked and waved goodbye, just where you were about to fuck her.
She clambered up the bed and onto all fours, looking back at you with lust-drunk eyes, urging you on, needing to be fucked some more. So you crawled right up behind her, took a grip of those beautiful hips and you slipped your cock back inside her.
One stroke and you bottomed out within her.
Two strokes and she began moaning again.
By the third, you were slamming her forward with each push.
The bed creaked in protest as you hammered yourself into Karina, keeping up with what she wanted as she pushed back at you, meeting every buck of your hips with equal force and speed. At least one orgasm tore through her body. You felt it in the way her body contracted around your thick shaft as you drove it deep inside her, but also heard it in the way she screeched through gritted teeth. Saw it as she clawed at the blankets, grabbing handfuls of material and pulling at them as her body tensed up.
"Cum," she pleaded with just the one word.
And that's what you did. Her little pussy made sure of it. Feeling her spasm around you, squeezing your throbbing cock so tightly that you couldn't resist but join her in ecstasy. So you flooded her sweet cunt, sending ropes of cum into her waiting body, painting her walls, feeling every inch of her pussy pulse as her body urged yours to give her everything it had. Her cries mingled with the heavy panting as you emptied your balls within her.
You couldn't keep it up. Fucking Karina sometimes feels too intense, takes so much energy out of you, makes your muscles burn. So you had to withdraw from her and rest back on your haunches, catching your breath, your heart racing. But Karina is Karina.
She turned around and before you could move, she had taken hold of your thighs and moved forward. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your glistening cock and began sucking on it. As her tongue rolled across the slit and along the underside, tasting your seed and her own juices combined. Her cheeks hollowed, eyes staring up at you from behind damp hair and you felt her moans reverberating through you.
How can she do this every time? How can she make you recover so quickly? Because you did. No sooner had Karina placed her head in your lap than you grew hard again. You were left fighting that war against conflicting desires: whether to push her off and have her again or keep the pleasure of having her mouth on you. Every swirl of her tongue across the sensitive parts of your cock, the feeling of her lips gliding along its length, her throat opening and the tightness taking your crown.
"Oh shit..." you groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"
She didn't answer but you noticed her hips wiggle slowly side-to-side.
It wasn't long before she relinquished the grasp she had on your thighs and let you pull her into position. A roll onto her back. A pillow under her lower back. You hooked one leg over your shoulder while she held the other out wide, laying right on the edge of the bed. You sank into her again and again, rocking the entire bed with each thrust.
And how you only wish now that you had at literally any point taken a look to your right. Maybe you would have questioned why her phone was still there. Maybe you would have made her check the thing was actually off.
Of course, you know now the mistake that Karina made.
You pushed her down into the bed, pressing her leg against her chest as you fucked her. Fucked her deeply. You had changed the tempo now, switched to something slower, more powerful and purposeful. That load you left in her cunt made the whole thing a mess. You pounded into her and it spilt between you, running down her ass and soaking her bedding. Karina gasped as her second climax crashed through her.
Her phone caught it all.
Every minute.
When Karina came, so loud, so hard, so intense that she didn't know who or where she was, people were watching. Her fans watched. When she said your name as she stared up into your eyes with such gratitude, they were listening. And when you came for the second time, she made sure everyone could hear.
"I feel it," she whispered, her fingers digging into your arms. "I feel it. All of it. Give me more. Fill me."
She pulled at her thighs, spreading herself open and making you groan into the crook of her neck as your throbbing dick pulsed, unleashing another load of thick cum deep within her body, making another wonderful mess. Leaving her already soaked cunt saturated. Together you lay like that, two exhausted bodies wrapped in an embrace, your cock twitching, occasionally releasing a few drops inside her. Karina giggled.
"There's nothing better than that feeling," she groaned. "Nothing... better."
She looked right into your eyes as she said it.
"It's my favourite thing in the world."
So you kissed her, both of you falling into the tangled mass of sweat-soaked blankets while you stayed on top of her. She didn't want to let go, not yet, not while the closeness and warmth were shared. Your bodies pressed together with your softening cock still inside her until eventually you slipped out and came to lie beside her. She nestled up against your chest.
In the silence that proceeded, there was a vibration across the room. Your phone is still in your pocket, somewhere on the floor. You let it ring out, while you lay there, breathing heavily. Again it vibrated. "Ugh," you groaned, "Leave me alone."
"Is someone missing you?" Karina teased.
"Doubt it," you replied.
Karina let her hand trace patterns across your chest, moving slowly towards your hip. You knew the game. Get you hard again, and ride you into the middle of next week. It worked, too. Even though you protested, her hand wrapping around your shaft soon brought it back to life. Sensitive strokes had you squirming and groaning.
"Well, whoever it is will just have to deal with the fact you're mine tonight," she purred.
Then you heard an unusual noise. Another buzz. But not your phone. From somewhere else. But you paid it no attention as Karina got up from your chest, swung her leg over you and began lowering herself down onto you. What started as slow gentle fucking quickly progressed back to something far hungrier and desperate. Her nails dragged lines across your torso, your hands gripping tightly at her waist to steady her. You watched as your cum leaked out of her cunt and onto you as she rode.
You reached between her legs and scooped up a blob, bringing it to her lips.
"Lick it," you told her. "Taste it."
And she opened wide for your fingers and cleaned them up. "That's what you wanted?"
"Yeah. Tell me what it tastes like."
"Tastes like us," she moaned, fucking you faster, pushing you deeper.
Then she leaned back, making a show of the way she rolled her hips against you. Bouncing as she impaled herself on you. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as another orgasm approached. It built slowly, the intensity growing higher and higher until she teetered on the edge, balanced between bliss and rapture. The way her tits bounced had you hypnotised. Focus locked on her. Ignoring the phone that continued to ring.
She was close. Really close. Riding you frantically. Her moans turned into short desperate gasps until she had no voice left. You heard the scream before and saw how hard she came, but now you had front-row seats to watch it all again. Her muscles tightened and spasmed. Her rhythm faltered.
Your phone rang.
"Shit. Oh fuck!" she screamed, throwing her head back, arching her spine and freezing mid-thrust.
Her cunt gripped you tightly. Squeezing, milking. Urging you to release within her once more and give her that final gift. You felt her leak over you. Watched as her pussy throbbed as she rode out those final moments, struggling to continue as her strength failed. You grabbed her hips and did the work. Thrusting up into her repeatedly. Feeling her cum dribbling down your shaft and over your balls. Fuck, she's messy.
She panted desperately and let her arms drop by her side, staying arched and leaning back. You helped her balance. She needed it.
Your phone kept ringing.
You ignored it. You fucked up into her, wanting nothing more than to cum inside her again. Your muscles burned. You clenched your teeth. The pressure in your lower abdomen was unbearable. But you pounded up into Karina, making her call out with each thrust, while your grip on her probably turned her hips purple. The pleasure in you rose and rose, so fast, so intense, and without warning it broke.
You came again.
Holding her down and shooting your cum deep inside her. Gasping for air as you did, flooding her body with rope after rope until her insides dripped. Her thighs became glazed in the evidence of your passion.
Then you lowered her down to lie against your chest and you held her close. Until her breathing settled and you could hear her purr, "I think you've outdone yourself this time."
"I think you'll kill me," you joked in return.
"But imagine how happy I'd be if you died from giving me too many orgasms."
A laugh. Another vibration. "Whoever that is must really need me," you grumbled.
"Fuck them," she laughed.
"Why, when I can keep fucking you?"
Karina bit her lip. She seemed pleased with that answer. Then you realised that even as you softened within her, she hadn't stopped grinding against you. Making those slow circles, keeping herself stimulated and trying to get you hard again.
"You're relentless," you marvelled.
"And you love it."
"I love-"
There's a bang at the door and then a bell.
Karina groaned. She sighed. She relented.
Then she rolled off your spent cock, letting it slip from her swollen cunt and you both stared at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll go away?" you mused. They didn't.
"Come on," she huffed. "Stay there. Let me get rid of them."
You listened to her walk across the hardwood floor in her bare feet. Unstable steps courtesy of your enthusiastic rutting.
She pulled on a robe and left the room. Your phone vibrated again as she left, so finally you rolled out of the bed, crawled to find your pants and pulled the damn thing out.
More missed calls and messages than you could count, and not just one person. Your friends, Karina's friends, and... Karina's manager? Face recognition kicked in and the phone unlocked. You're staring at Karina's messy bed.
You're staring at Karina's messy bed on your screen.
The icon has the word 'live' beside it.
You're staring at Karina's messy bed on Instagram Live.
Your heart stops beating. Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow nothing. Wait. One. Two. Three.
"What the fuck are you doing!?" is the scream from across the apartment. You look at the phone again. Karina's messy bed, on Instagram Live, with millions of viewers.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
That was when the realisation of your combined carelessness struck you both—separated by a wall, finding out from two different sources.
Now, they're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster.
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astonmartinii · 8 months ago
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i love him, it's ruining my life [guilty as sin part one] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader
a contract ends, a relationship is exposed and even with everything on the line, she still loves him.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 621,099 others
yourusername: out and about town
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user1: girl? girl? GIRL?
user2: carlos' career is DEAD AND SHE'S POSTING VACATION PICS ON INSTAGRAM
user3: at least they're cute instagram pics
landonorris: y/n i think it's time you finally take that phone off of do not disturb
yourusername: but that's the perpetual state of my phone i am a poet i was born to be in the woods, if you have news tell me now before i close this app in 20 seconds
landonorris: i don't want to air your brother's business out in a public instagram comments literally just scroll through your timeline idiot
yourusername: wait let me open the family group chat
yourusername: WHAT
user4: are we about to see her reaction to carlos losing his seat in real time?
user5: let me grab my popcorn one sec
yourusername: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?
landonorris: take your phone off DND for once in your life and maybe you’d be clued in on the news
charles_leclerc: and while you’re at it reply to all the tiktoks i sent you
landonorris: not the time leclerc
charles_leclerc: but but but my tiktoks… i finally got a tarot card reading that resonates
landonorris: NOT THE TIME
charles_leclerc: don’t hate the player hate the game
carlossainz55: really?
charles_leclerc: i am TALKING ABOUT TIKTOKS LEAVE ME ALONE
yourusername: this is a lot - gosh can’t a girl go on holiday without everything imploding (i'll check the tiktoks in a second)
user6: anyone kinda weirded out that charles is just here joking with y/n as if his teammate and her brother hasn’t just been forced out of a job?
liked by carlossainz55
user7: babe he wasn’t forced out of a job, his contract wasn’t renewed. the last time i checked this was a sport where they compete not sit around and sit kumbaya
liked by charles_leclerc
user8: oh! they’re both liking shady comments already, it’s been a day since the announcement
user9: this is gonna get ugly isn’t it?
user10: awful, truly. i’m sat.
carlossainz55
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,458 others
carlossainz55: love all, trust a few and do wrong to none
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user11: .... right, what ever the fuck that means?
user12: i mean i was just here to celebrate the win what is all this poetry
user11: are we shading charles? lewis? ferrari?
yourusername: shakespeare, really?
carlossainz55: i can read you know
yourusername: oh really, that's news to me
user13: erm you guys i thought the whole job loss thing was meant to bring the family together....
user14: they joke like this all the time this is just sibling banter
user15: idk it's reading a lil more tense than usual, not that there's any reason for that (that we know of)
charles_leclerc: doing the tifosi proud ❤️
carlossainz55: will do while i can
user16: yall .... what happened to the chemistry
user17: they were never friends - pierre tried to tell yall
landonorris: a carlando podium !!! lets do this every week
carlossainz55: golf buddies and podium buddies - you love to see it
landonorris: LETS GO WILD AND PUT IT ON FERRARIS TAB THEY OWE YOU
landonorris: i mean let's celebrate your triumph good pal!
user18: the PR monster got lando :( rip
carlossainz55: just being able to win in front of the most important people in my life is enough
user19: does anyone else think it was weird that y/n wasn't at the race?
user20: like y/n loves australia she litr says that she was an aussie in a past life...
user21: also the most recent carlos comment... is y/n not one of the most important people in his life?
user22: do we think something has happened? like maybe he thought she should've cut her holiday short to come home to support him?
user23: also the fact that her and charles were immediately like joking around with each other? maybe it just rubbed him the wrong way
user24: but not even considering her an important person to him? and also that just seems like he's shifting all the blame to charles when it's ferrari who haven't extended the contract
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maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 892,309 others
tagged: kellypiquet & yourusername
maxverstappen1: she says she's a professional third wheel, i call that being a LEECH
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user29: unlikely trio but somehow my favourite
user30: y/n really be their overgrown child
yourusername: how am i the leech when i paid for the ice cream mr millionaire 🤨
maxverstappen1: ever thought about how i want to spend quality time with my girlfriend?
yourusername: won't someone think of the children
maxverstappen1: ur 23
yourusername: that's it! p and i are unionising against this if you find suspiciously well drawn crayon graffiti on your walls it was NOT me
maxverstappen1: don't threaten my walls if you still want to come to races
yourusername: low blow 😩
user31: does that mean... she's not going to races with carlos?
user32: she's always been in his garage tho like even with how close her and max have always been SHE'S ALWAYS IN GARAGE 55
user33: i feel like this has something to do with the whole seat situation i'm not sure how but like i think there's something weird going on here
kellypiquet: don't worry @yourusername it might be max's house but it's p that has the final say
yourusername: no one gets bluey like i do
maxverstappen1: yeah but while you're here you get the best seat at the tea party IT'S NOT FAIR
yourusername: well one of us can name all the disney princesses and one of us can't
user34: so.... y/n is living with max? but i thought her and carlos shared an apartment in madrid?
user35: guys i'm so confused
user36: we need the twitter detectives on this asap
charles_leclerc: no lec... when i specifically sent you a PR bundle, you hate to see it
maxverstappen1: you only sent that to us for y/n
charles_leclerc: maybe! but i have it on good authority that you loved the vanilla
maxverstappen1: ummmmmmm no i'm a professional athlete, y/n ate all of it
yourusernames: FALSEHOODS
charles_leclerc: i know who i believe
maxverstappen1: why is everyone ganging up on me in this comment section
user37: charles sending lec to max's house just for y/n WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN
user38: and does it have anything to do with carlos maybe kicking her out
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 673,892 others
yourusername: gotta make sure i give p a reason to tell me stick around
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user39: charles is always in the likes before me and i have notifications on
user40: they seem like such close friends it's so annoying that they're never spotted together at a race and we have no pictures of them :(
charles_leclerc: why do i never get any baked goods i literally sent my ice cream to my arch rivals house just for you
yourusername: you're never in the fucking country that's why
charles_leclerc: i have this kind of demanding job i don't know if you knew
yourusername: i also have the demanding job of being sexy and i cope just fine
charles_leclerc: i heard you got employee of the year, hard to be too upset when you're the competition
yourusername: better luck next time babe
user41: openly flirting with the guy that caused her brother to lose his job, this girl is just shameless
yourusername: do you think charles is the literal ceo of ferrari?
user42: why are you defending charles more than your actual brother?
yourusername: i feel like i gotta make this statement every three buisness days on here but like you people don't know what happens in our personal lives and i can defend my friends if i feel they're being unnecessarily questioned
user43: queen snapped omg
user38: they always be out here trying her like she's not a writer and poet SHE WILL READ YOU FOR FILTH
maxverstappen1: pretty sure she'd replace you with me in like two seconds so you're safe until [redacted] gets home
yourusername: i'm pretty sure with the right campaign i could sway jimmy and sassy to my side as well
user44: who the FUCK IS REDACTED
maxverstappen1: wouldn't you like to know 🤨
yourusername: max ???
maxverstappen1: what? i didn't have friends growing up i like that you tell me secrets
yourusername: oh :(
maxverstappen1: you wanna tell me more?
yourusername: NO YOU ALREADY KNOW THE BIGGEST ONE
maxverstappen1: true 💅🏻
user45: so like the secret is defo a relationship right?
user46: do we think carlos knows?
user47: by the fact that he's not in these comments... probably not
user48: so like he looses his seat and finds out his sister is in a secret relationship? someone give the guy a break
user49: or maybe, just maybe, there's a reason that y/n hasn't told carlos and he's not the guy we all think he is
liked by charles_leclerc
user50: OH? this war is so on ....
f1teaspill
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liked by user51, user52 and 31,845 others
tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc
f1teaspill: the war at ferrari is heating up... turns out there's a lot carlos didn't know and FOR YEARS. yes, you're reading that right, y/n sainz and charles leclerc have been in a relationship for at least two years and believe us we have a VERY credible source like WITHIN THE FAMILY level source.
the most important thing about this whole relationship is how carlos did not know for years, so how much more was hidden from him? did y/n know about the seat swap for lewis? was she leaking strategies to charles? was she sabotaging her own brother?
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user53: OH SHITTTTTTTTTT
user54: cancel me if you will but i think the hottest couple in f1 just dropped
user55: the fact we've been robbed of content of them for years .... i'm angry I NEED THE POETRY ABOUT CHARLES
user56: i'm gonna need y/n or charles to drop all the pics in response
user57: y'all a source "within the family"? did these fools find out about y/n's relationship and immediately run to an f1 TEA PAGE???
user58: that's some goofy ass shit
user59: i find it funny that instead of sitting down and thinking about why their daughter/sister didn't feel comfortable enough to tell you about her relationship they're like i know EXACTLY who needs to hear this
user60: the way it's proved her completely right to not tell them
user61: do you guys think this is like a tv show or like fan fiction? in what world is y/n sharing strategies to fuck over her own BROTHER?
user62: also be for fucking real... strategies? ferrari? at least try and be realistic
user63: also.... walk with me .... why would y/n and charles conspire to put lewis hamilton in carlos' seat? LEWIS FUCKING HAMILTON AND SEVEN TIME WORLD CHAMPION? WHY WOULD CHARLES WANT TO TAKE HIM ON OVER A GUY HE'S ALREADY BEATEN TWICE
user64: see this is the point! sainz camp you can try and demonise charles and yOUR OWN DAUGHTER all you want but we all know it's bull shit
user65: one thing about this that really rubs me the wrong way is that the sainz camp clearly expected that if y/n was in a relationship with charles that she would've been a double agent for carlos? and because she's not fucking insane they're now going for character assassination of their own SISTER/DAUGHTER
user66: THIS THIS THIS
user67: carlos won't even consider y/n an "important" person in his life but expect her to sacrifice or exploit her relationship for cheap psychological points
user68: also y/n isn't even at most races so how is she getting carlos' strategies to give to charles? this shit doesn't make any sense
user69: carlos himself has said in an interview that y/n is useless when it comes to racing that she's just a supportive figure rather than someone who has any in depth racing knowledge
user70: this is insane level hating with all the evidence out here... and against your own family...
user71: this just makes me think that y/n wasn't in australia for a reason - like was she banned from carlos' garage
user72: and the fact she's been staying at max's it just makes me think that y/n was kicked out of her and carlos' apartment
user73: now tHATS INSANE
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espnf1
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liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,025,788 others
tagged: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc & yourusername
espnf1: well... this could be awkward
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user77: espn babe you're just like me
user78: *slides $5 across the bar* get a camera in the ferrari garage?
espnf1: we're working on it 😩
user79: pierre and max here... they really are the paddock gossip girls
maxverstappen1: i guess carlos couldn't handle that i knew who redacted was before him 🤷🏻‍♂️
carlossainz55: really?
maxverstappen1: don't put your sister on the streets and i won't dunk these jokes on your head
user80: is this like the official f1 civil war?
carlossainz55: you don't know anything max, i'd really keep your nose out of our business
maxverstappen1: i actually know exactly how you guys move, you tried it on 17 year old me and it becomes my business when my best friend calls me with no where else to go (also i know you changed the locks while you were in maranello so she wouldn't be able to go to charles, you're not slick)
carlossainz55: i never took you as a lap dog max
yourusername: calling him the lap dog when you're the biggest bitch on the grid - bold
carlossainz55: you're burning a lot of bridges for a talentless slut who had to start fucking my teammate when we cut you off
yourusername: keep throwing your PR to the fire and see who fucking hires you, i guess we'll both be unemployed bums
user80: also imagine calling her talentless like she isn't a well established poet LOL
user81: guys this is getting so bad so quickly
user82: we got the whole rest of the season of this
user83: mad respect to max for sticking up for his bestie
user84: and her actual boyfriend isn't?
yourusername: charles will do his talking on the track like he always does. he won't debase himself with bickering in instagram comments, funnily enough ferrari don't like that - might be the reason he still has a seat and someone doesn't
carlossainz55: or he's a pussy who has his woman talk for him
yourusername: at least he has a woman to talk for him, he doesn't behind his dad at any sign of trouble. i've always known i didn't matter to dad the moment i wasn't a boy but i'm not afraid of him or you and i know exactly how you work. good luck
user85: do they know we can all read this?
user86: when i'm in an oversharing contest and the sainz siblings walk in
user87: those ferrari debriefs are gonna be AWKWARD
yourusername: especially since he doesn't have binotto to hide behind any more
user88: girl you good?
yourusername: i've never been better, this has been building for years even before charles and i got together
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 908,487 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: i love you, it's ruining my life
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user89: y/n i'm gonna let you finish but we could really get the best poetry out of all of this
user90: for real like yeah i'm sorry your brother tried to make you homeless, exposed your relationship, accused you of treason and called you a talentless slut - but think of the poetry!
charles_leclerc: i love you and i hope you're okay
yourusername: i'll always be okay with you
charles_leclerc: it's out now and no one can take us away from each other
charles_leclerc: i'd actually love to see them try
yourusername: i'd go through this fortnight of hell over and over again if it meant i'd still keep you
charles_leclerc: i'd like to say this is the end of it but i think we're in for the long run now
yourusername: i'm prepared to go to war for you
charles_leclerc: there's no one i'd rather be on the front lines with
user91: oh brother... YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A POET WE GET IT
charles_leclerc: * in love with
user91: oh my bad
charles_leclerc: no worries
user91: STILL GROSS BRO
liked by maxverstappen1
charles_leclerc: max ???
maxverstappen1: you guys need to calm down cause i'm not good with words and kelly is gonna start scrutinising my cards and i DO NOT HAVE THE VOCABULARY FOR IT
yourusername: lol
maxverstappen1: lol? LOL? did our brief yet forced stint as roommates mean nothing?
yourusername: fine i'll ghostwrite your valentines cards
user92: so this is all a bit melodramatic
user93: he CHANGED THE LOCKS BRO SHE HAS THE RIGHT TO BE MELODRAMATIC
liked by charles_leclerc
user94: okay so now we're in full blown f1 civil war - who is on each side?
user95: well max and pierre are on charles' side. i'd also add in lewis, seb, oscar, esteban, george, alex, yuki and daniel
user96: so carlos has lando and fernando?
fernandoalo_oficial: it might not be blood but that's my daughter
user96: ????
user97: did he just show up to diss carlos and then refuse to elaborate?
user98: sounds like a nando thing to do .... also just leaves carlos with lando lol
user99: this feels a bit unfair
yourusername: all is fair in love and poetry
fin.
note: so as soon as i had this idea (litr TTPD release day) i have been so busy and WHACKED with the worst writer's block but i hope this is a good start and rest assured knowing the beef will only get worse... I LOVE DRAMA
note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx
taglist: @aadu2173 @rhythmstars @kqliie @booksandflowrs @2bormaybenot @firelily-mimi @evie-119
4K notes · View notes
blossomarlia · 1 month ago
Note
hi, could you write a drabble with reader x remus where she rlly struggles with getting involved or going to hang out with people without explicitly being invited (just feeling really worried about being rejected) and he kind of reassures her and looks after her?
hi, thanks for this request! hope you enjoy, i generally don't write school-aged drabbles but thought this fit the best.
summary: your fear of being rejected stops you from joining your friends, but remus reassures you
remus x fem! reader (implied early stages romance)
Sitting by one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room, you’re wondering how many of the people around you have exchanged glances over the top of your head. You can almost feel judgement thickening the air, raised eyebrows and confused smiles that ask why is she even here? To be honest, the only reason that you haven’t moved away is that you were technically sitting here first, and the rest of them milled in and took their spots nearby- then again, was it purposeful, your taking a place on one of the sofas they often use? In hindsight it’s just embarrassing. They must be assuming that you sat down just so they’d have no choice but to talk to you. 
You know you’re expecting the worst of this group, none of whom particularly deserve it. The flock of seventh-years surrounding you are generally a good bunch; Lily, Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Peter, James, Remus, and Dorcas,. You want to be one of them more than  you want most other things, which is somewhat pathetic and completely obvious in the way you’re always hanging around. They may all be lovely, and your friends (to some extent), but you know how irritating it can be if there’s always someone not quite in the group hanging around.
You should leave. Get up and make some comment about homework, or whatever, and wait for absolutely nobody to stop you. It’s kinder to everybody. Isn’t it?
Lost in your thoughts, you miss what Lily says next, and then they’re all getting to their feet. You give what you hope is a casual smile, simultaneously relieved of your spiralling and disappointed that they’re fulfilling your expectations.
There’s a tap on your shoulder- Remus, your favourite, whose hair has grown out over Christmas and now curls over his ears. He seems to get taller and lovelier with every passing moment. It’s difficult to make eye contact.
“We’re heading to the greenhouses, did you hear?” He says quietly, hand stilling instead of pulling away. You press your lips together and nod, carefully hiding any sort of misplaced hurt. It’s not as if you’re entitled to an invitation.
“Alright, I’ll see you later!” Too enthusiastic.
His brows pinch together. “You’re not coming?”
You look up at the others, who are collecting scarves and bags on their way to the portrait-hole. How can you admit to Remus that you don’t think they want you along? How can you tell him, anyone, that you’re far too afraid of being made fun of, or becoming a joke within their tight-knit group, to risk it?
“Oh, I don’t know. I have heaps of homework.”
“You do?” He raises his eyebrows. You feel caught, despite not having been accused of any sort of lie. “I thought you finished it all yesterday.”
You’d been studying when he and Lily joined you, and all day you’ve been wondering why they chose to. You probably put a but too much value on people choosing to sit next to you in class or during study; it’s unlikely that it was more than an absence of other free tables.
“...Some, yeah. And I wouldn’t want to- you know, I wouldn’t…” You trail off and give an awkward laugh. Remus’ gentle expression is making the inside of your mouth hurt.
“What?” You’re not used to your excuses mattering so much. Mostly, you mutter something and disappear to your dorm in time to avoid any drama. Is he feeling guilty, awkward about having made plans as a group in front of someone else? You cringe at the notion of Remus realising how friendless you probably are, of his pity. 
You know it’s your own fault for being like this. You’ve had friends in the past- cool, funny, popular, attractive- who frequently left you out on purpose. A drunken conversation in fifth year revealed that you were tolerable at best, a joke at worst. Always pushing in and so desperate for invitations that to extend them could only be ironic. 
You think about that more often than you should. You’re constantly hyperaware of how tolerable you are, sure that you’ll say or do something which will make everyone else realise exactly why you’re not in any particular group. You can’t let that happen yet with all these people, so full of love for one another that even proximity to them feels like the experience of it. Still, they’re teenagers. Judgement is an automatic response, and Remus is clever in the way he jokes. He’ll retell this conversation to roaring laughter if you reveal too much- not that he’s ever unkind, but you sort of invite a bad impression, you think.
“It’s really fine,” You assure him. “I’m tired. It’s cold, too.”
“Right,” He nods, glancing downwards. You think you’ve won (as much as you can win, here) until he turns to James and Peter and says, “I think we’re going to stay here. Bit chilly.”
What?
James frowns, making a sound of protest. “Moony!” His eyes fall to you next, and you look away, guilty and embarrassed. You’d never even considered that pity would drive Remus to actually stay here, and now they’ll all hate you. Nice job, very well handled.
Marlene is next. “‘Cas has just finished growing the Alihotsy plant, though. We’re all going.”
“It’s been weeks since we all had the evening off- or at least, since Potter and Black didn’t have a detention each,” Lily reasons more kindly. She receives twin protests from the boys on either side of her, but remains unbothered, adding, “It’d be nice to spend a bit more time as a group.”
You’re awfully close to tears. All you’d wanted was to relieve them of yourself, to retreat to your room and wait until somebody explicitly invited you somewhere (if ever), and now you’ve gone and ruined everybody’s evening. You turn to Remus, more urgent than is likely normal. “Please just go with them,” You say softly, aware that your voice is all wobbly. “I’m just going to go to bed, I don’t want to interrupt all of you catching up. Please, it’s really okay.”
There’s a brief silence that spans the entire crowd. They’ve all heard, are all likely attempting not to laugh. Remus is giving you an awful look. 
“...Are you okay, lovely?” Mary asks. You can’t look at her, can’t look at any of them, but you’ve always been alright at masking emotion in your voice when you really try. You force something like a smile.
“Yes! Yes, completely fine, I’m only tired. Post-holiday blues, maybe.” You laugh and it sounds terrible. “I’ve really only got to go to bed. You all have fun!” Silence again. 
“We might join you all in a bit,” Remus says firmly. There are a few worried noises of assent, and they all head off. Now, you do see them looking at one another, frowning and looking upset. Poor Remus, you imagine them saying on their way to the greenhouses, stuck looking after her while we all escape.
Remus asks you to sit down again three times before you agree, still rather set on going to bed so you won’t cry in front of the entire common-room.
“What’s making you so upset?” He asks softly, once he’s finally detained you. You blink quickly and cast a glance around at the other students in the common-room, afraid to embarrass yourself more than you already have, but he’s quick to assuage the fear. “I cast a muffliato when James began talking about the Alihotsy prank- ages ago. Nobody’s heard anything, I promise.”
You swallow harshly. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being so- so-”
“If I could,” Remus says, firm but kind, “This will be a lot easier if we can get to the problem, here, rather than whatever you think you’ve done wrong.”
“I- right. Okay. Um,” You stammer. “They’re not really mutually exclusive.” “Why don’t you want to come? Did somebody say something hurtful?” You look at him, slightly startled. “What? It’s not that I don’t want to.”
Remus seems perplexed, looking the way he does when he’s working out a particularly difficult exam question. “No?”
“No.” You twist your fingers together so tightly that they hurt. “No, it sounds fun, it just… it’s not as if I’m going to demand to be brought along, am I?” The joke falls flat. You think you already knew it would, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to laugh and be met with a concerned frown.
 You take a few longer breaths. You can fix this. You have to fix this. 
“Look, it’s kind of you to stay here, but like Lily said- you all have the night off. It’s really not so bad not to spend it as a group. I want you to go, really.” The next smile is easier. You’ve done this before, convinced people not to feel bad for you. 
“Why would you need to demand to be brought along?” Remus asks. “We made the plans while you were right here.”
“You all made plans together,” You explain slowly. “You know, having an evening to yourselves and that sort of thing. There’s no need for- you know, I’m honestly just tired. That’s probably why I’ve reacted so oddly, it’s my own fault.”
Remus looks at you for a long while, so intent that your skin gets prickly and uncomfortable. Eventually, he speaks, quiet and considered. “...You haven’t acted oddly if that’s how you’ve been feeling.”
“Tired?”
“No, excluded.” He says gently. “You really didn’t know you were invited?” You don’t answer with more than silence, and he sighs. 
“You were. You’re always invited, dove, of course you are.”
Trying not to get to hung up on impossibilities, you shake your head quickly. “It’d be a bit rude to assume that.”
“It wouldn’t.” Remus replies immediately. Then, “Dove, what are we going to do with you?” Entirely too much to comprehend. You’re glad he goes on. “Would you look at me for a moment, please?”
You want to ask him why, or refuse, or run up to your dormitory, but you do as he says. You wonder if he knows that he could ask you to do almost anything and you’d say yes, if he’ll only keep looking at you with his coffee-coloured eyes.
“All of us- we want you to come along, wherever we are. You’re important to lots of people. Do you understand that?” “I- I just don’t want to push myself in.” You say, mortified.
“You aren’t. You’re being pulled, if anything, yeah?” His lips quirk. “When Lily said those things about spending time as a group, she meant you, too. If somebody said something that made you think otherwise, I’ll-”
“Nobody said anything,” You tell him feebly. This is all rather a lot to take in. “I think… maybe it’s more that nobody’s said I am invited, or a part of- I don’t know, it’s all sort of stupid.”
“No it’s not,” Remus disagrees. He pinches your chin quickly between thumb and forefinger, frowning again. Mary once commented that Remus would look sixty by the time you all left school, with all his worrying wrinkles. “Not stupid, but it’s not very kind to yourself, either. Why shouldn’t we want you around?”
You open your mouth and close it at his raised eyebrow. “Rhetorical question?” 
“Rhetorical question.” He confirms amusedly. “There’s no point arguing, because we do. I do. I wish you wouldn’t think otherwise.”
“I’ve only been friends with all of you for a little while, though. You’ve all been mates since first-year.” At that, Remus outright scoffs. “Have we, now?” 
You shrug. 
“James and Lily always liked each other, then? Dorcas didn’t only just start hanging around us as well?” You look down, and he sighs. “However long everybody’s known one another, the most important bit is that we all like each other, yeah? It wouldn’t matter whether we became mates at eleven or two days ago- we’re friends. Or- you know.”
You definitely don’t know, but you’re going red anyway. He was definitely talking about Lily and James- that’s all he meant by ‘you know’. Isn’t it?
Remus scratches the back of his head, quiet for another second. Then, “...Why don’t we go down to the greenhouses? We’ll stick together the whole time, you’ll not be sat by yourself again.”
“I don’t want to make you babysit.”
Remus tsks, expression becoming sterner for a moment. “Don’t think that way about yourself. I’m asking because I want you to come- it’s not worth going if you aren’t there.”
The long moment it takes for you to decipher whether he’s only being nice or if that’s the truth is enough for Remus to decide that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Tugging you to your feet, and seeming taller than ever with your proximity, he winds his own scarf around your neck and pushes some hair behind your hear. You let him, mostly because you’re too surprised to do anything about it.
“Let’s go, before they all decide to try some of the Alihotsy themselves. Gloves?”
You manage a nervous giggle, putting your mittens on when he hands them to you. “Thanks.”
“That’s alright. Come on,” He gives you a crooked sort of smile. It’s sometimes difficult to tell if Remus is aware how good-looking he is. 
The entire group are far too enthusiastic at yours and Remus’ arrival fifteen minutes later, given the fact that it’s hardly been half an hour since they left. Either way, you’re quickly pulled into a squabble between Lily and James about- as Remus predicted- the logic of trying some Alihotsy for themselves. 
“Thank Merlin you came, you’re the only one who won’t be completely daft about this!” Lily says, linking her arm in yours. You smile before catching Remus’ eye and looking down, feeling yourself flush. Smug bastard, you think fondly.
It’s an entire two hours before everyone heads back up to the castle, having thoroughly violated curfew but without (to James and Sirius’ chagrin) having tested any of the plant which would induce hysterical laughter. You find yourself walking beside the tallest of the group in comfortable silence, a few steps behind the rest.
“Thanks for making me come with you,” You say, perhaps a little more earnestly than you ought. “It was really nice.”
“‘Course, dove.” You look up at Remus to find he’s already looking at you. He clears his throat, glancing over at Sirius and Marlene where they’re pretending to push each other into the snow. It’s likely to end in one of them following through and the other swearing eternal hatred. “We’re all glad you came along. Could even make a habit of it.”
You exhale a laugh. “Maybe.”
He gives you a sideways look. “Oh, ‘maybe’, is it?” “...Conceivably?” You grin, darting away when he grabs at you and sort of wishing you’d stayed still just to see what he’d do. Remus fixes you with a teasing glare.
“Watch it, sweetheart.”
You blink, choking on words for a minute. Sweetheart? Sweetheart!? Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheartsweetheartsweetheartsweetheart-
“You alright?” 
“Yeah!” You say, too quickly. Remus misreads your flusteredness as something else and softens, taking hold of your sleeve and tugging you towards him. You go easily.
“If it’ll help,” He says thoughtfully, “You can ask me if you’re invited to things. Or I’ll just tell you. Then you won’t have to go to the trouble of assuming either way.”
You like him so, so much. “That’s really nice of you, Remus.”
“Eh,” He shrugs. “You know me.”
Now, it’s harder not to smile than anything else. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. It’s really my problem, I shouldn’t-”
“Enough,” He interrupts gently. “Just say yes, dove, if it’ll help. I won’t be unhappy either way.”There are several places within you, the more unkind parts, that say accepting his offer would be like accepting pity. But there are also places that are warmed at the thought, that remember how people reacted when you arrived in the greenhouse, that can start imagining a reality wherein nobody hated your presence by the sofas tonight, and those bits win the argument for the first time in a very long time. You look up at Remus, his soft eyes and fluffy hair dusted with snow, and nod.
793 notes · View notes
helioooss · 16 days ago
Text
isolation caved in, i adore you; the sound of your skin
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synopsis: you and minjeong get caught up in a dating scandal — all along, she realises she has been in love with you.
warnings: flufffff
w/c: 3k+
a/n: another short story…it’s 2:30am and i couldn’t really sleep.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the faint buzzing of your phone on the nightstand jolted you awake, the sound cutting through the quiet of your small apartment; the dim light from the screen cast shadows across the room as you reached for it, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
minjeong’s name lit up on display, accompanied by a string of missed calls that made your stomach twist with unease.
she never called like this, not unless something was wrong.
“hello?” your voice came out rough, still thick with sleep, as you pressed the phone to your ear.
there was silence for a moment, save for the faint sound of her breathing on the other end. you sat up straighter, the worry bubbling up in your chest.
“mindungie?” you tried again, softer this time. “what’s going on? are you okay?”
her reply was a shaky inhale, followed by a soft sniffle that made your heart drop. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “i didn’t want to bother you.”
“you’re crying,” you said, your voice laced with concern. “don’t apologise, i’m here.”
another pause, heavy and suffocating. then, in a voice so small it was almost inaudible, she said: “i’m in another dating scandal.”
your chest tightened at her words. she had faced scandals before — being in the public eye in one of the most popular girl groups in the world meant she was no stranger to baseless rumours and invasive speculation but hearing her cry over it was completely new.
“what’s sm doing about it this time?” you asked, already trying to piece together a plan in your head. “aren’t they handling it?”
“they want me to take a hiatus,” she said bitterly, her voice trembling. “alongside my recent surgery; they think it’s the best way to let things settle, but it’s not just about me this time. it’s affecting other people…people who don’t deserve this.”
your heart ached at the frustration in her voice and the way she sounded so defeated. you hated this; hated how the world wouldn’t leave her alone, wouldn’t let her live without dissecting every moment of her life.
“it’ll settle down,” you reassured gently, even though you weren’t sure if you believed it yourself. “it always does. people will move on to the next thing soon enough.”
“not this time,” she mumbled, her voice quieter now, tinged with something close to despair. “this one’s different.”
you frowned, the weight of her words sinking in. “what do you mean? who are they saying you’re with?”
there was a long pause, the kind that made your chest tighten with dread. you could hear her breathing, uneven and shallow, as if she was trying to muster the courage to answer.
finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “you.”
the word hung in the air and for a moment, you weren’t sure you’d heard her correctly.
“me?” you repeated, making sure you heard correctly.
“yeah,” she said, letting out a bitter, shaky laugh. “they’ve got all these photos…ones from when we were kids and some from the last time i visited busan. they’re saying we’ve been secretly dating for years.”
your mind raced as her words sank in. you thought of all the moments the two of you had shared, ones that were so innocent but now felt heavy under the weight of her confession.
the time she’d visited you at the restaurant, laughing as she stole bites of your food; the long walks along haeundae beach, where she’d tease you about how much slower you’d gotten since you were kids.
moments that had always felt like yours alone — twisted into something you hadn’t prepared for.
“that’s ridiculous,” you replied firmly, though your voice wavered just slightly. “they’re just making things up like they always do. anyone who knows us would know it’s not true.”
“it’s not about what’s true,” she added, her voice breaking again. “it’s about what they can make people believe. and they’ve done a good job. it looks…convincing.”
your stomach twisted at her words, the dread settling deep in your chest. “have you looked at it?”
“yeah,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “and it’s bad. really bad.”
you clenched your jaw, anger and protectiveness bubbling up inside you. “minjeong, you know none of this matters, right? the people who care about you, the people who know us, you — they won’t believe it.”
“but it’s not just about me,” her voice trembled. “it’s about you, too. they’re saying things — terrible things about you, digging into your life. our lives in busan. i didn’t want this for you.”
you’d always known the risks of being close to her, of staying a constant in her life even after she became a star but you never imagined being dragged into her world like this; exposed in a way that felt so violating.
“i don’t care what they say about me,” you insisted, though the knot in your stomach told a different story. “what matters is you. we’ll get through this. we always do.”
she let out a shaky breath, her voice softer now. “please don’t look it up,” she begged. “it’ll only hurt you, and i don’t want that. promise me, please.”
the curiosity was already gnawing at you, but the desperation in her voice was enough to make you falter.
“i’ll try,” you answered eventually, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise. “but you’re not alone in this, okay? you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. and you’ve done nothing wrong.”
she didn’t respond right away, but you could hear her breathing slow slightly, as if your words had brought her even the smallest bit of comfort.
“can i come over?” she asked after a moment, her voice small and tentative. “i’m back in busan for a week or two.”
“of course,” you said without hesitation. “you can stay as long as you need.”
“thank you,” she whispered and for the first time since the call started, her voice carried a faint trace of relief. “i’ll be there in a minute, see you, y/n.”
“okay,” you hummed with a smile. “be safe.”
when the call ended, you set your phone down and leaned back against the headboard, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights outside your window. your mind was a storm of thoughts — worry for her, anger at the situation…and a quiet, nagging fear about what this would mean for the fragile boundary you’d built between friendship and the feelings you harboured for years.
as much as you hated to admit it; a small selfish part of you felt the weight of her words differently. they thought she was in love with you. and no matter how false the rumour was, it struck a chord in you that you tried to bury a long time ago.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the small kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of the spoon against the teacup as you stirred the honey into the warm chamomile tea. the warm light above the stove cast a faint glow on the countertop, highlighting the steam rising from the mug.
on the side, you’d set out a small plate of chocolates — the mint chocolate ones she always liked. it wasn’t much, but it was all you could think of in the middle of the night, your hands moving on autopilot.
your mind drifted, as it often did when it came to her. minjeong. winter. her name alone carried a weight in your chest that you’d grown used to over the years but never quite knew how to handle.
you have loved her for as long as you could remember, though you’d never dared to say it out loud — not to her, not even to yourself most days.
it was easier to keep it buried, to cherish the friendship you had without risking everything by wanting more. but now, it felt like the fragile balance you’d built was falling apart.
this scandal, these rumours — they were forcing everything to the surface and it terrified you.
what if she believed it? what if she looked at you and saw the truth you’d been hiding all this time? worse, what if it ruined everything?
the thought of losing her was unbearable.
resting your hands on the counter to steady yourself, you heaved out a sigh. the fear clawed at you; relentless and unyielding. you didn’t want her to think there was any truth to the rumours or make her feel uncomfortable around you. all you wanted was to protect her.
your gaze drifted to your phone on the counter, the curiosity too strong to ignore. she’d begged you not to look, but your fingers moved before you could stop them, typing your name and hers into the search bar.
almost instantly, the top result caught your eye — a youtube link with over a million views. the title read: aespa winter and y/n: secret love through the years.
your stomach dropped as you hesitated, then tapped on the link. the video began playing, a soft piano melody accompanying a slideshow of photos.
the first few were ones you recognised: pictures from your childhood, back when you and minjeong were just kids running around the streets of busan; they were harmless, ones you’ve shared to the public.
then came the more recent ones and your breath hitched. you didn’t even know where the fans had found these photos, but they all told the same story.
the two of you, close and comfortable, looking at each other like no one else existed. in every frame, your gaze lingered on her like she held the universe in her hands.
and then came the details — the matching necklaces, the ones you’d ordered from japan for her 21st birthday, customised with her initials and a small star charm. the video even included clips of minjeong talking about you in interviews, her voice warm and full of affection as she called you her rock, her safe place.
it was overwhelming and your chest tightened with a mix of emotions — fear, longing, guilt. you hadn’t realised how obvious your feelings were, how much they’d been captured in fleeting moments you thought were private.
you closed the video quickly, the knot in your throat threatening to choke you. you couldn’t let her see the truth, not like this.
a sudden, soft knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped as you turned towards the sound. wiping your hands on your toy story pyjamas, you walked to the door and opened it slowly.
there she was.
minjeong stood in the hallway, her small frame wrapped in an oversized hoodie, the sleeves hanging past her hands. a black hat and mask covered most of her face, but her red and swollen eyes were unmistakable.
she looked utterly exhausted and before you could say a word, she stepped inside and crashed into you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she buried her face in your shoulder.
her body trembled as she started crying again, her muffled sobs breaking whatever composure you’d managed to hold onto.
“i’m so sorry,” she choked out between breaths, her voice cracking. “i’m so, so sorry.”
you froze for a moment, overwhelmed by her sudden closeness, but then your arms moved on instinct, holding her tightly.
“hey,” you whispered, your voice soft and steady, though your heart was racing. “it’s okay. you don’t have to apologise.”
“it’s not okay,” she sobbed, her words coming out in gasps. “you don’t deserve this and i don’t know how to fix it.”
you closed your eyes, resting your chin gently on the top of her head. “we’ll figure it out,” you reassured, your voice firm despite the storm inside you. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here.”
she clung to you like a lifeline, her sobs slowly quieting as you held her and closed the door behind you. the scent of her floral shampoo filled your senses, grounding you in the moment. you didn’t know how long you stood there but you didn’t care. all that mattered was her and the promise you’d made to be there, no matter what.
when she finally pulled back, her face was flushed, her eyes red and puffy. she wiped at them with her sleeve, looking small and vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.
“thank you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “for everything.”
you shook your head, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “you don’t have to thank me, mindungie. just…come sit on the couch. i made us some tea.”
her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles; trailing behind you. her presence filled the space with a warmth that was both comforting and heart-wrenching.
as you handed her the cup of tea and watched her take a small sip, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep the truth hidden — how much further you could pretend you weren’t in love with her when every moment like this made it harder to breathe.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the cup, her favourite one; chipped and its colours fading, now sat on the coffee table as she curled up at the far end of your small couch; knees drawn to her chest, her oversized hoodie drowning her small frame. the moonlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains, bathing the room in a soft silver glow.
you just sat beside her, unsure how to navigate the weight of her silence.
finally, she broke it. “i don’t care what happens to me,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make your chest ache. “but you…i’m worried about you.”
you blinked, taken aback. “me?” you said, your voice quiet. “you don’t have to worry about me.”
“how can i not?” she replied, her eyes locking with yours, wide and filled with worry. “they’re going to dig into your life, say horrible things about you. i can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”
you sighed, leaning back against the couch. her concern was touching, but unnecessary. “minjeong, i’ve lived my whole life being just another face in the crowd. no one’s ever cared enough about me to say anything, let alone horrible things. i can handle it.”
“you don’t know what it’s like,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t know how cruel people can be when they think they know your story.”
“maybe i don’t, but i know this much: i can handle petty comments from strangers. what i can’t handle is seeing you like this. so don’t waste your energy worrying about me, okay?”
her lips trembled and for a moment, you thought she was going to cry again. instead, she looked away, her blonde hair falling messily into her face.
“you’re too kind, you know that?” she began softly. “sometimes i think you’re too good for me.”
you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her words, but the vulnerability in her voice stopped you. before you could respond, she turned back to you, her gaze hesitant. “can you…can you hold me?” she asked shyly, her voice almost timid. “just for a while?”
your breath got caught in your throat, but you nodded, shifting closer to her on the couch. she leaned into you, her head resting against your shoulder as her body relaxed against yours. you wrapped your arms around her gently, feeling the warmth of her against you and the steady rise and fall of her chest.
the moonlight caught her features, highlighting the soft curve of her jaw, the delicate slope of her nose, the way her messy blonde hair framed her face.
even like this — tired, vulnerable, with tear-streaked cheeks and swollen eyes, she was breathtaking.
your fingers found their way to her hair, running through the strands gently and you felt her sigh against you, a soft, contented sound that made your heart ache.
“sometimes,” she murmured, her voice muffled against your hoodie, “i wish i wasn’t famous. i wish i’d chosen a normal life, stayed here in busan. with you.”
your heart squeezed at her words, but you forced yourself to keep your tone steady. “you were meant to be a star, minjeong,” you said softly. “you’ve always been destined for it. even when we were kids, you had this…this light about you. people were always going to notice.”
“but i didn’t want them to notice this,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “i didn’t want them to hurt you.”
you didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, your fingers continuing their soothing rhythm through her hair. her words, though, lingered in your mind, intertwining with thoughts you’d been trying to suppress all night.
what would it be like, you wondered, if she truly felt the same way about you? if the rumours weren’t just rumours but a glimpse into something real?
you’d spent so long convincing yourself that she was out of reach — that her world was too far removed from yours for anything more than friendship.
what could you even possibly offer her? your simple life, a tiny apartment and a small restaurant?
there was nothing about you that could ever impress her, nothing that could compare to the glitz and glamour of her world.
and yet, here she was, leaning against you, seeking comfort in your arms. it felt too good to be true and you hated the way your heart clung to the moment, desperate to believe it meant something more.
“what are you thinking about?” her voice broke through your thoughts, soft but curious.
you froze for a moment, your hand stilling in her hair. “nothing.”
she pulled back just enough to look up at you, her face still close enough that you could see the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. “don’t lie to me,” she muttered, her tone gentle but insistent. “you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re a million miles away.”
you hesitated, unsure how much to tell her. your mind raced for an excuse, something lighthearted to distract her, but the weight of her gaze made it impossible to lie.
“i was just…thinking about us,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “about how different our lives are. and how…how lucky i am to still have you in mine even though you’re a big star now.”
her expression softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in her eyes; something you couldn’t quite place. before you could dwell on it, she leaned back into you, resting her head against your chest this time.
“you’re not lucky,” she smiled. “i am.”
her words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting, yet heavy with meaning. you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent, holding her with your eyes closed as the moonlight bathed the room in its quiet glow.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the soft chirping of birds filtered through the open window, mingling alongside the morning sun spilling into the room. the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake was warmth — minjeong’s warmth, her body pressed close to yours, her head nestled against your shoulder, an arm draped across your waist and her soft breaths tickled your neck.
you froze, your heart immediately racing as the situation fully sank in. it had been years since you’d been this close to her — the space you’d carefully maintained between you was gone and the intimacy of the moment made your chest tighten with equal parts longing and fear.
as your eyes fluttered open, her blonde hair was the first thing to greet you, falling into her face in strands that glowed golden in the morning light. her cheeks were slightly flushed, lips parted ever so slightly as she remained lost in sleep. she looked peaceful, so beautiful.
for a second, you let yourself admire her.
then reality hit and panic crept in. this was too close, too much. you couldn’t risk her realising your true feelings as you carefully shifted, trying not to wake her, but your movements caused her to stir.
her eyes opened slowly, blinking as they adjusted to the light. when they focused on you, a soft smile tugged at her lips.
“good morning,” she mumbled, her voice still laced with sleep.
“morning,” you replied, your voice awkward and stiff as you immediately shifted away, creating a small but noticeable gap between you. “sorry. i didn’t mean to, uh, get so close.”
her smile faltered slightly, her brows knitting together in a small frown. “why are you apologising?” she asked, her tone soft but tinged with confusion.
“i just…i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you sat up, rubbing the back of your neck; heart still racing. “i’ll make us some breakfast.”
before she could respond, you were already on your feet, making your way to the kitchen. she sat up slowly, watching you with a look you couldn’t decipher.
“let me help,” she offered, already starting to move.
“no, no,” you said, turning back to wave her off. “just sit on the couch, okay? i’ve got this.”
she hesitated but eventually relented, settling back onto the couch with a small sigh. pulling out her phone, she began to tap at the screen, though her gaze kept drifting back to you as you moved around the kitchen.
she wasn’t texting anyone, though — not really. instead, she found herself scrolling through the same photos and videos she’d seen the night before, the so-called “evidence” of your supposed relationship. each image showed the two of you at different points in your lives, some familiar, some she didn’t even know existed. but it wasn’t the photos themselves that caught her attention — it was you.
the way you looked at her in every single one of them. it was so obvious now, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to notice before.
your gaze was always soft, filled with something she couldn’t quite name but felt deeply in her chest. she stared at one photo in particular, a candid shot of you smiling at her during one of her almost weekly visits to busan. the look in your eyes made her heart flutter.
it can’t be, she thought, her heart beating faster as she lowered her phone — but the thought lingered, refusing to leave. she glanced at you, watching as you moved around the kitchen with practised ease, cracking eggs into a bowl and chopping green onions with quick motions.
the smell of something sizzling in a pan soon filled the room and she couldn’t help but think about how natural this felt; waking up to you, watching you prepare breakfast as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
you were so focused, so determined to make everything perfect for her and the thought made her chest tighten.
her phone buzzed in her hand, a message from jimin lighting up the screen.
‘are you sure you and y/n aren’t dating?’
she ignored it, setting the device aside as her attention drifted back to you. her thoughts were a mess, swirling with confusion and a strange kind of hope she wasn’t sure how to name.
you turned then, catching her gaze, and the world seemed to still. her heart skipped a beat as you smiled, holding up a plate.
“breakfast’s nearly ready,” you smiled, the warmth of your voice spreading all the way to her chest. “hope you’re hungry.”
she nodded, her throat feeling tight as she tried to push down the growing emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
“i am,” she managed to say, her voice softer than she intended. “also sleepy.”
and as she watched you turn back to the stove, the realisation hit her all at once, unrelenting and undeniable.
i’m in love with her.
the two of you sat at the small dining table, plates of warm, steaming food in front of you. you made made simple dishes — scrambled eggs, leftover rice and grilled mackerel with a side of kimchi.
it wasn’t extravagant, but she ate it like it was a gourmet meal, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping her as she took her first bite.
“i missed this,” she said, her voice muffled slightly as she chewed. “your cooking, i mean. it’s so much better than anything i get in seoul.”
“don’t let your manager hear you say that,” you teased, grinning as you poured her a glass of water. “they’ll think you’re living off convenience store meals.”
“i practically am,” she admitted with a laugh, her nose scrunching in that way it always did when she found something genuinely funny. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this.”
the conversation drifted into easy territory, the kind of nostalgic reminiscing that always seemed to happen when you were together. you found yourself laughing as she recounted a time in middle school when she’d gotten detention for climbing onto the school roof to retrieve a kite you’d accidentally let go of.
you shook your head. “you were always such a shy troublemaker, how you ended up as an idol, i’ll never know.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” she shot back, mock-offended. “i’m responsible now. mostly.”
“sure you are,” you said, smirking. “remember your first boyfriend? what was his name again? jonghoon? jinhoon?”
“it was junghoon,” she corrected, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “and we were, like, twelve. it doesn’t even count.”
“oh, it counts,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a grin. “you were so serious about him. always writing him those sappy little notes.”
“don’t remind me,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “i can’t believe i ever thought that was romantic.”
“hey, at least you had a boyfriend,” you said, unable to resist teasing her. “i’ve got nothing to compare to.”
she dropped her hands, her expression shifting into something more curious. “why is that, anyway? is there no one special in your life? i’ve been meaning to ask.”
the question caught you off guard, your smile faltering for just a moment before you quickly recovered.
“if there was, you’d be the first to know,” you said, nudging her foot under the table. “don’t be stupid.”
her expression softened at your words, a small smile playing on her lips, but you weren’t sure why.
trying to lighten the mood, you added with a grin, “though, if you give me jimin’s number, maybe i’ll reconsider.”
her reaction was immediate. her brows furrowed, and her smile disappeared as she stabbed at her rice with her chopsticks.
“you’re kidding, right?” she said, her tone sharper than you expected.
you blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. “obviously,” you chuckled, but she frowned deeper. “come on, winter. it was a joke.”
“well, it’s not funny,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on her plate.
“why are you getting so worked up?” you asked, tilting your head to study her. “what’s it to you if i joke about jimin?”
she didn’t answer right away, her jaw tightening as she shoved a piece of mackerel into her mouth.
when she finally spoke, her tone was clipped. “it’s just…weird, okay? she’s not even your type.”
“oh, and you know my type now?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “you haven’t even see me with any girl.”
she looked up at you then, her eyes narrowing slightly. “yeah, i do.”
the tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. you weren’t sure what to make of her reaction — it was so unlike her to get upset over something so small. but then, as you watched her, the realisation began to dawn on you.
she’s jealous, you thought, the idea almost too absurd to entertain.
you decided to test the waters, leaning forward with a small, teasing smile. “minjeong,” you said, your voice light. “are you jealous?”
her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked it, looking away with a scoff. “don’t be ridiculous.”
“you’re jealous,” you said, your grin widening. “oh my god, you’re actually jealous.”
“i’m not!” she insisted, her cheeks flushing as she crossed her arms defensively. “it’s just—ugh, forget it.”
her reaction only made you laugh, the tension between you dissolving as quickly as it had appeared. she glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it, and eventually, she let out a small, begrudging laugh of her own.
“you’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head as she picked up her chopsticks again.
“and you’re adorable when you’re mad,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
she froze for a moment, her cheeks reddening further and you felt your own face heat up as you realised what you’d said.
but instead of snapping at you, she simply looked at you, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged again, heavy with something unspoken.
“just eat your breakfast,” she said finally, her voice softer now and you nodded, your heart still racing as you focused on your plate, wondering what, exactly, had just happened.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the next few days passed in a quiet rhythm that felt almost too perfect to last. mornings were slow and easy, filled with soft conversations over coffee and the occasional sound of minjeong humming to herself as she wandered around your small apartment.
afternoons were spent watching movies, cooking together, or simply lying on the couch; tangled up in blankets and each other.
it felt normal in a way that was disarming, like the two of you had slipped into a version of life where nothing else existed — no dating scandals and pressure, just the comfort of being together.
it scared you how easily you’d fallen into this routine, how much it felt like home. every small touch, laugh, every shared glance seemed to chip away at the walls you’d spent years building around your heart.
and with each passing day, it became harder to ignore the truth you’d buried for so long — you were still in love with her and being this close to her now was both a blessing and a curse.
for her part, she seemed quieter than usual, her gaze lingering on you a little too often, her smiles softer, more hesitant. she hadn’t brought up the scandal again, but you could feel the weight of it hanging over her, a tension that never quite left her shoulders.
one night, you decided to close things out with one of her favourite movies, tenet. she was practically giddy as she set it up, her excitement a stark contrast to the more subdued moments of the past few days.
“you’re going to love this,” she geeked out, her eyes lighting up as she settled onto the couch beside you. “it’s so clever. you have to pay attention, though.”
“you realise you say that about every confusing movie,” you teased, earning a playful shove from her.
two and a half hours later, the credits rolled, and you found yourself lying on your side, facing her. your arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, her head resting against your shoulder. the movie had been a blur of time loops and action sequences, none of which had made any sense to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
your attention had been more on her than anything else — the way her lips twitched into a small smile during her favourite scenes, the way she unconsciously leaned closer to you as the story unfolded.
“so,” she began, her voice soft and teasing, “what did you think?”
you groaned dramatically, tightening your arm around her waist. “i think i have no idea what just happened.”
her jaw dropped in mock offense and she pushed at your chest. “you’re kidding! how could you not get it? it’s brilliant!”
“oh, i got it,” you grinned. “something about going backwards in time, saving the world and…i don’t know, doing a little dance?”
“you’re impossible,” she muttered, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.
“you’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” you replied without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them as you laughed.
her smile faltered, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stared at you, her expression suddenly turning serious.
the laughter that came so easily from you, the warmth of your skin pressed against hers — it all felt too much and not enough at the same time.
she didn’t know when it started. maybe it had been years ago, back when the two of you were just kids, chasing the tide and dreaming of futures that felt so far away. or maybe it was more recent, in the stolen moments when she would visit you between schedules, sitting in your tiny apartment and making her favourite dishes and feeling more at home than she ever did in her dorm.
but tonight, as the credits rolled and your soft laughter filled the quiet, it clicked.
it was you. it had always been you.
the realisation settled over her like a wave, overwhelming and undeniable. you were the missing piece, the thing she had been searching for without even realising it.
the void she’d felt for so long, the ache that no amount of fame or success could fill — it was simply you.
“y/n,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “what are we doing?”
your heart skipped a beat, her question pulling you sharply out of the playful banter. “what do you mean?”
“this,” she said, gesturing between the two of you. “us. spending all this time together, acting like…” she trailed off, her gaze dropping to where your arm was still wrapped around her. “acting like we’re more than just friends.”
you swallowed hard, your chest tightening as her words settled over you. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “but i know that i don’t want it to end.”
her eyes flicked back up to yours, wide and searching. “but what about everything else? what happens when i go back to seoul? what happens if people find out about this and they…they ruin your life?”
“minjeong,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “my life isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. and if being with you means dealing with a little chaos, then so be it. i’ve handled worse.”
“you don’t understand,” she said, her voice faltering. “it’s not just a little chaos. it’s people prying into your life, twisting your every word, making you out to be something you’re not. you have a normal life, y/n. i don’t want to be the reason you lose that.”
you reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you’re not going to ruin anything and my life stopped being normal the second you walked into it. and there’s nothing in this world i’d trade you for.”
her breath hitched at your words, her gaze searching yours as if trying to find some hint of doubt. “but what if it’s not enough? what if i’m not enough?”
“you’re everything,” you said without hesitation, your words filled with a sincerity that left no room for doubt. “you always have been.”
her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. instead, she watched you with so much adoration in her eyes and closed the small distance between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as hesitant as it was certain.
it was soft and gentle, like the answer to a question neither of you had dared to ask.
you responded instinctively, your hand moving to the back of her neck as you deepened the kiss, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment. her fingers tangled in your hair and her body melted against yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
when you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, you could feel her breath against your lips, warm and shaky.
“i think…” she started, her voice trembling, “i think i’ve been in love with you for a long time.”
your heart swelled at her words, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “you’re not the only one,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. “i’ve hid how i felt for too long.”
“but we’re here now, aren’t we?”
a soft, watery laugh escaped her as she leaned in again, her lips finding yours in another kiss — this one deeper, more certain, like the beginning of something neither of you had dared to hope for.
and in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like the rest of the world could wait.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
the end.
568 notes · View notes
sometimesanalice · 9 months ago
Text
Between Friends
Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 11K
Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat
(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.
That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.
It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.
Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn’t know what your answer was going to be.
So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him. 
All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.
Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first.  He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.
The two of you had never talked about it in the after.
Not once, not ever.
He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.
Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”
“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.
Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.
He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.
Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.
Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.
He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.
You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.
Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.
He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.
He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.
Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”
It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.
He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.
Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.
He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.
His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.
Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure. 
Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.
It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?
Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.
He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.
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𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎
When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.
But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.
You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.
It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.
And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.
You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.
He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.
Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.
You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months. 
“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.
Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.
You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.
After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.
It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.
He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.
You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”
“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.
You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.
“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.
“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”
“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.
And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.
Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”
He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”
It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.
The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.
Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.
He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.
The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.
You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.
But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.
It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.
The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.
If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.
The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other  as you took it all in.
You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.  
He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.
You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break.  But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.
He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”
“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.
“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”
You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar. 
“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.
Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”
You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.
“How are things with your Dad?”
You offer him a shrug.
He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.
“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.
You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.
You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”
Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”
“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.
“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.
Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.
“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”
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Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.
He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.
Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.
It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.
He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.
And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.
Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.
His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.
“Your first…”
You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”
Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.
He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.
Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling. 
“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.
And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.
The girl who just asked him to be her first.
He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.
The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm. 
“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.
“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”
“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”
“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”
You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.
There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”
“No,” Bradley says, honestly.
He knows you’re just trying to make a point.
The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.
You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.
“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.
He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”
And he means it.
Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.
You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself. 
“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”
Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.
“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”
“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.
He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.
“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”
The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.
You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.
“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”
Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”
“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.
He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.
When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.
He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.
You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”
“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”
He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?
“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”
You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.
“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”
It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.
“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”
The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.
“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”
Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”
You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.
When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”
That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.
“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”
You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”
“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”
“What a stud,” you tease.
This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.
You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”
He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.
“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.
“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”  
He wipes his hands on his pants.
“You sure?” he asks again.
“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”
He nods, “Then I guess we just…”
He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.
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You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.
In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.
While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.
His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.
As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.
You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.
It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.
You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.
“Bradley?”
The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.
He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.
Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.
Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.
The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.
You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.
It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.
He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.
“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.
“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.
“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.
He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.
You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.
“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”
His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.
“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”
You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.
You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.
“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”
“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”
He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.
“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”
This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.
You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.
“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.
You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.
It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.
Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.
His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.
He notices. Of course he notices.
“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.
“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.
“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”
You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.
And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.
His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”
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Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.
In his bed. Because of him.
He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.
Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.
You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.
“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”
You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”
“Such a smartass,” he grins.
Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.
You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.
He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.
“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”
“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.
Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.
He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.
Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.
“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.
He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.
Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.
He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.
You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.
You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.
“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.
“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”
“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”
“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.
“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”
And then he fills you with two fingers.
“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.
Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.
The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.
Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.
“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.
“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”
He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.
Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.
You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.
He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.
Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”
He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”
You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”
“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.
“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.
“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.
He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.
“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.
He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”
A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.
“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.
Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.
You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.
“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”
“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”
He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.
And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.
Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.
His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”
You nod before he even finishes the question.
“Do you have-”
He nods before you finish yours.
“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.
You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.
Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.
He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.
“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.
“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”
Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.
You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.
He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.
You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.
God, does he want this to be good for you.
He takes a breath.
And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.
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Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.
His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.
When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.
He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.
The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.
You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.
Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.
There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.
Little by little. Inch by inch.
You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.
“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.
“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.
There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath.
Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.
He reads the question in your eyes.
“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.
You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”
He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”
Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.
His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.
It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.
You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.
He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.
“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”
 “You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.
He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.
Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.
His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.
It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.
You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.
You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.
You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.
“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”
He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.
You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.
It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.
The hum of the fan.
The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.
The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.
In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.
He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.
“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.
He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.
You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.
Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.
“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.
“Anything for you, kid.”
Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.
You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.
It was just… something between friends.
A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.
Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.
The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.
You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.
Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.
Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”
Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”
You grin because it feels like a checkmate.
“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”
He looks thunderstruck.
You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.
You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.
Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.
“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.
“June,” you promise.
And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.
He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.
And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.
You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.
Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.
When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.
He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.
You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”
“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.
“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”
“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”
“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”
You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.
“Here and now,” he confirms.
You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”
“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”
The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.
“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”
You see him fight back a smirk.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.
Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.
Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”
You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.
The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.
Just friends don’t look at each other like this.
“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.
How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.
How he’s looking at you like you’re his.
“I know.”
He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.
“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”
“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”
“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”
You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”
“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”
“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.
“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”
You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.
“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.
Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.
“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”
He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.
“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.
“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”
Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.
He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.
His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.
You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.
“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.
You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.
“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”
“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.
You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.
It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.
As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.
Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.
It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.
He kisses you like he knows you.
Because he does.
Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.
That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you. 
The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.
He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.
And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.
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Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!
A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!
Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!
You can read more of my stories here!
Taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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gumii-bearr · 3 days ago
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❝ you hitting on me? ❞
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summary: megumi doesn't like clubs, but then he sees you.
featuring… megumi fushiguro
content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, alt!megumi, piercings and tattoos, reader is a babe fr, pet names, car sex, rough sex, fingering, riding, dick piercing (what who said that??), teasing, edging, choking, crying (omg), spanking (a lil bit), unprotected sex (don’t do that!!!!!), bit of subspace??, alcohol mentioned, smoking mentioned (don’t smoke, it’s bad for you!), vaping mentioned, these two are so horny for each other like wtf
author’s note: this was a request by a lovely anon!!! ... also its 4k words
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Megumi doesn’t like going out. It’s not his thing, really. He prefers to stay at home to play video games or be his own company, and if he has to be social he prefers a more intimate get together over… whatever the hell Yuji is dragging him along too. 
“Trust, it’ll be fun,” Yuji nudges Megumi’s shoulder lightly. Megumi keeps his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black hoodie, a resting annoyed expression plastered across his face. He’s not sure how Yuji roped him into coming to this gig, maybe it was because Megumi kind of owed Yuji for turning down hanging out with him for the past… many times. 
Megumi doesn’t respond, just wordlessly follows behind Yuji as he weaves through groups of people socialising, vaping and drinking outside the bar Megumi was conned into coming to.
Yuji mentioned something about his friend’s band playing at this bar tonight and there may have been mentions of meeting up with Nobara but Megumi kind of tuned him out after he started going on and on about how Megumi was being anti-social and bringing up the numerous times he cancelled on Yuji (it was a ploy to make him feel bad and it unfortunately worked).
The moment they walk down the graffitied hallway, Megumi is again reminded why he doesn’t like going out. The bar is packed with drunk people and it smells of alcohol and sweat. Megumi inwardly cringes at the whole atmosphere and nearly, nearly, spins on his heel and leaves when some drunk girl bumps into Megumi while giggling and slightly dry heaving.
Before Megumi can even make a comment, Yuji is grabbing his arm, “don’t be a party-pooper, Fushiguro, we haven’t even seen Nobara yet!”
“I didn’t say anything,” Megumi deadpans.
“Yeah, but your face said it all,” Yuji retorts, “come on!” Yuji tugs on his friend’s arm, dragging his friend toward the loud thumping music.
His head hurts already. The music is loud and the random LED lights flying over the crowd are bright and annoying. Megumi is annoyed, to be fair, he’s always slightly annoyed but right now it’s increased tenfold by the overstimulating nightmare that is this club.
Megumi doesn’t even know where Yuji is going. Yuji is staring at his phone, then looking around, then back at his phone again. He’s talking to Megumi but the music is so loud that Megumi doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying. 
“There she is!” okay, he caught that.
Yuji walks a little faster, Megumi attempting to weave through the crowd of people without touching anyone (it’s not working, he’s very uncomfortable). The crowd seems to dissipate as they reach the back of the club by the bar, numerous tables dotting the back wall. Megumi spots Nobara as she leaps up from the table, waving her arm around obnoxiously.
“Itadori!” she’s yelling and if Megumi knows anything about Nobara, it’s that her voice really carries. “Fushiguro!”
Megumi raises his hand from his pocket as a slight wave, his lips forming a tight line. Nobara is already shoving a drink into Yuji’s hand then reaching over to give one to Megumi, “dunno what it is but it’s getting me drunk!”
Megumi tunes out whatever Nobara is saying the moment he sees you. 
You’re chuckling as you watch Nobara and Yuji feed off of each other’s excitement. You’re holding a drink in your hand, absentmindedly swirling the ice around with your straw. 
You’re also trying to remain super nonchalant at the fact you’re totally checking out Yuji’s friend.
He looks completely uninterested in what’s happening, his tired eyes glancing at anything other than the social situation in front of him. His hair is messy and framing his gorgeous face. His hoodie sleeves are rolled up and your eyes trace down his veiny arms adorned with pretty tattoos all the way to his hands. He’s got a couple of nose piercings and an eyebrow piercing, his whole vibe is dark and brooding and you’re so into it.
Where the fuck has this cutie been?
“Y/N, this is my friend Fushiguro,” you sit up a little straighter at the mention of your name. Nobara tugs on Megumi’s arm bringing him closer to the bar table, “say hi, you emo bitch.”
Megumi eyes you and you have no idea what he’s thinking. “Uh, hey,” he says awkwardly. Oh god, he’s a dork. You must have him.
He’s remaining as poker-faced as possible as his eyes glance over you, from the fishnet stocking adorning your legs to the subtle colour of your glossed lips. You’re smiling at him softly through mascaraed lashes and he finds himself peeking down at your lips.
Megumi thinks you’re really pretty.
He mostly just listens as you, Nobara and Yuji talk about college and work, opting for tapping his finger against the glass in front of him. He likes the way you talk, hand gestures accompanying your enthusiastic ramble about your college degree. He also likes the way you laugh, though he finds himself becoming slightly annoyed by the fact that Yuji’s the one making you laugh. 
He decides he needs a smoke, his head is pounding from the loud music and the flashing lights; he needs a break.
Megumi gets up from his seat, nudging Yuji’s arm, “‘m just going out for a smoke.”
Yuji waves him off and Megumi sets off toward the smoking area outside the bar. It’s colder outside but god, it’s so much quieter, just the bustling of cars down the street and the occasional police siren. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, flicking his lighter and holding it to the end until the smoke fills his mouth. 
He leans against the wall, cigarette perched between his lips as he scrolls on his phone. He debates it for a while, but eventually gives in and searches your name up on instagram. He finds your account, noticing you’re already friends with Itadori. He scrolls through your posts, feeling like a fucking teenager stalking your social media–
“Fuck.”
Megumi’s eyes snap to you, now with an oversized leather jacket pulled around your shoulders as you rifle through your purse. There’s an unlit cigarette pressed between your glossy lips and your brows are furrowed.
Megumi fishes his lighter back out of his pocket, he walks over to you and nudges your arm, holding the lighter out for you.
You look up at him with your pretty eyes, a smile pulling at your lips, “thanks, Fushiguro.”
You take the lighter from his hand, attempting to flick the lighter to life to light your cigarette. You try a couple more times before Megumi chuckles softly, taking it from your smaller hands and lighting it the first try.
He wordlessly cups the end of your cigarette, shielding it from the wind as he lights your cigarette for you, his darker eyes flickering up to yours briefly. 
The two of you stand in silence for a moment before you speak.
“I like your tattoos,” you say sweetly.
“Hm?”
“Your tattoos, they’re cool,” you repeat with a soft chuckle.
“Oh, thank you,” Megumi replies, absentmindedly running a hand along his inked arm. He feels his heart race a little when you reach a manicured hand out and run your finger along the dragon twisting around his forearm.
“Nobara told me you weren’t much of a talker,” you say, your smaller hand still fiddling with his larger more angular hands as you admire his tattoos. It’s strangely intimate of you to touch him in such a way.
“You talked about me?” Megumi teases, taking another drag from his cigarette with a smirk tugging at his lips.
“All good things, don’t worry,” you retort, finally letting go of his arm to bring your cigarette back up to your lips.
“Didn’t take you for a smoker.”
“Trying to quit, just smoke when I drink,” you shrug. You sigh then turn your head to face him, you look him up and down, “you got a girlfriend?”
Megumi lets out a laugh, coughing slightly on the smoke still swirling around in his chest, “no, why?”
You grin, “‘m hitting on you.”
“Oh, you are, are you?” Megumi presses.
“You’re pretty cute,” you shrug.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Megumi asks, turning his head to blow the smoke away from you.
“No, no boyfriend… why? Are you hitting on me?” You ask curiously with a shit-eating grin plastered across your pretty glossy lips. 
Megumi looks at you and the two of you hold eye contact for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips briefly before he squashes out the rest of his cigarette, “I’ll buy you a drink.”
“So you are hitting on me,” you tease.
Megumi takes the cigarette from your fingers, stealing your last puff and inwardly beaming at the cherry flavour of your lip gloss before squashing it out for you, “I’m buying you a drink.”
Megumi does indeed buy you a drink, bringing it back to the table for you, even getting you a straw.
“Thank you, Fushiguro,” you smile sweetly.
“Megumi is fine,” he says, pulling his chair out to sit next to you.
You suppress a smile, “okay, Megumi.”
The both of you miss as Yuji reluctantly slips Nobara some cash. 
The two of you talk all night. Megumi is a little more laid back after you manage to get two drinks into him. The time slips away from you and you find yourself not even interested in what Nobara and Yuji are talking about as you talk to Megumi. 
Megumi lets you toy with his fingers, your nails dragging along his tattooed hand and up his arm. You suddenly grow curious, wondering if he’s got any other tattoos underneath his clothes, you feel like a bit of a perv coming onto this guy you just met, but you’re so drawn to him and he seems to be just as into you.
You catch Megumi’s eyes drifting down to your tits before he quickly clears his throat to answer whatever question you asked him. You think it’s cute and you decide to tease him a little by wriggling a little closer to him, your fishnet-clad thigh pressing against his. 
He knows what you’re doing and he’s not even mad about it. He lets you laugh and hang off him, lets you toy with the hem of his hoodie sleeves and lets you bump shoulders with him. In all honesty, he lets you because you’re hot and you’re into him.
“God, it’s so late,” Nobara sighs, wincing at the brightness of her phone.
Megumi checks his own phone; 12:54am. God, it is late.
“Open your phone,” you mutter, your chin resting on his shoulder.
“Why?”
“Just open your phone,” you giggle.
He does as you say and he nearly has a fucking heart attack when his phone opens to your Instagram that he was totally not stalking just a few hours ago.
“Fuck,” he knows he’s caught red-handed when you start to laugh softly, his hand falling slack in his lap.
“Aw, you’re stalking me, Gumi?” 
Megumi feels his chest tighten at the little nickname and he rolls his eyes but doesn’t offer any kind of explanation as he hands you his phone to do whatever it is you wanted to do.
You scroll to his contacts, quickly putting your name and number in his phone (you also make sure to follow your Instagram from his phone) before clicking it shut and handing it back to him. 
“Don’t forget to call me, kay?” you give him the prettiest doe eyes and quickly stand up, grabbing your jacket to join Nobara as she leaves. “It was nice to meet you, Megumi.”
He sits there dumbfounded as you and Nobara leave, he watches your back, watching your little skirt ride up over your ass a bit as you walk away. Fucking hell.
“Dude!” Yuji nudges his arm, “you got her number!”
“Shut up,” Megumi retorts.
“Told you you’d have fun.”
“Shut up!”
Megumi shoves a laughing Yuji away as he reaches for his own stuff to leave. The club is mostly empty by now, Megumi not realising how much time they’d spent here because he was so fucking distracted by you.
He and Yuji go to leave when Megumi notices your purse is still hanging over your chair. He quickly grabs it, scanning the crowd with his tall frame in hopes you’re still hanging around. You’re not, so he quickly pulls on Yuji to catch you before you go. Not that you’ll get far without your keys.
-
“Fuck,” you stand by your car and realise you left your purse in the club. You’re almost two blocks away from said club and Nobara has already left, leaving you somewhat stranded. You sigh, pulling your phone out of your pocket to text Nobara and ask her to turn around and take you home because you’re too tired and your feet hurt too much to walk all the way back.
“Hey, Y/N,” you perk up at the sound of your name, spinning on your heel and watching as Megumi catches up to you, your purse slung over his shoulder.
“Oh fuck, thank you!” you sigh with relief as Megumi hands you back your purse. You fish through your purse for your keys, “did Yuji drive you?”
“Yeah, but he’s already left,” he says.
You give him a look, “he has, huh?”
“Thought I could drive you… since you’ve had a couple,” Megumi tilts his head at you and you grin knowingly.
“What a gentleman,” you tease. “My place or yours?” you joke.
Megumi just looks at you and there’s a thick tension hanging in the air. He suddenly surges forward, capturing your pretty glossy lips in a hard kiss.
You kiss him back almost instantly, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck. Even with heels on, Megumi is taller than you and you have to arch your back to catch his slightly chapped lips as he leans over you, his large hands landing on your waist to pull your hips against his.
“Here’s fine,” he mutters against your lips with a cheeky smirk, you can only laugh softly as one of his tattooed hands comes up to hold the back of your head, forcing you to deepen the kiss.
He forces his tongue into your mouth and you whine softly. He tastes of tobacco and spiced rum and it makes you fucking dizzy. You thread your fingers through his messy black hair, tugging on it as he moves you to press your back against the cold car window.
“You bring my purse all the way here just to kiss me?” You quirk a brow at him, panting slightly.
“Maybe,” he grins, trailing his lips down your jaw to your neck. “You leave your purse on purpose so I’d bring it to you?”
“Maybe.” 
Megumi’s hands trail down your waist to your ass, gently kneading the soft flesh over your tiny skirt. Your pretty nails push up the hem of his hoodie, feeling up his toned as fuck abs that tense slightly under your touch.
He kisses you again, his thumb coming to rest on your throat as his fingers squeeze slightly, god you really want him to choke you while he fucks you–
“Unlock the car, Y/N,” he says against your ear, his voice low and sexy. 
You pull your keys out of your purse and unlock your car (you’re lucky your car is parked in the dark at the back of the parking lot). 
You clamber over each other in the backseat until you’re straddling Megumi’s lap, your fingers in his hair once again while he kisses and sucks on your neck. His hands knead your ass, his fingers slipping down to lift your tiny skirt over your ass.
“Mm, touch me, Gumi,” you whine against his ear.
Megumi smiles against your neck before pulling away from you. You whine a little at the loss of contact but he quickly kisses you again, one of his hands snaking up the bottom of your top to grope your tits. You hold his hand over your top, forcing him to squeeze your soft skin.
You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his cold rings nipping at your hot skin. You grind your hips down against his, feeling his bulge rub against your wet panties. He groans at the feeling, his free hand curling into the plush skin of your ass before he reels it back to deliver a smack! to your ass.
You moan at the slight sting, hands holding Megumi’s face to kiss him as he forces your hips to grind against his hard-on.
“You’ve been teasing me all night,” Megumi pants against your lips.
“I just wanted you t’fuck me,” you retort playfully.
“Such a slut,” he kneads your ass again before reaching his hand down further to run his middle finger across your slit over your panties. “Someone’s excited, hm?”
“Shut up,” you whine as he traces his finger over your clothed clit. You curl your fists into the fabric of his hoodie, moaning against his shoulder as he presses his finger a little harder against your clit.
He suddenly reaches both hands down, ripping apart your fishnets for better access. He pulls your pretty lacy panties aside, the pad of his finger prodding at your soaked hole. He traces his fingertip around the opening, chuckling as you whine and hump his lap looking for friction.
“Don’t tease me,” you grumble.
“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” he teases. You pout and he chuckles, pressing a wet kiss to your lips as he plunges his finger into your awaiting heat. 
You moan at the feeling, pressing your face into his shoulder as he pumps his middle finger into your tight cunt. You’re so fucking tight and you’re only taking a finger– he can only imagine how heavenly you would feel wrapped around his cock.
Your little hand presses against the buckle of his belt and Megumi delivers another hard smack! to your reddened ass. You moan out again, your trembling hands clutching his hoodie.
“So fucking impatient,” Megumi presses a second finger into your cunt, peering over your shoulder and watching as your slick starts to coat his palm and probably his clothed thigh.
“Mm, hah–” you sigh, feeling as Megumi scissors your poor little cunt open, his fingers prodding and curling against the spongy spot inside you. Your pussy makes lewd squelches as Megumi fucks his fingers into you. You grind your hips against his hard cock in his boxers, the friction rubbing your poor neglected clit.
You feel your lower belly start to burn as you whine and hump against Megumi’s clothed cock, your hole beginning to tighten and spasm around his fingers.
Megumi suddenly pulls his fingers from your soaked little pussy. You let out a frustrated whine as the burn in your belly subsides and you pant against Megumi’s neck. 
His fingers prod at your lips without warning and you open your mouth just slightly and he forces his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your cute little tongue.
You suck on his fingers, your smaller hand curling around his wrist as you make cute little noises. Megumi kisses your temple before his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, “I want you to cum on my cock… can you do that f’me, baby?”
You nod your head quickly.
“Words, baby,” he coos, his hand kneading over the harsh red welt blooming on your ass. 
“Mhm… I can do it,” you pant, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. “Please.”
Megumi’s hand reaches for his belt buckle, quickly undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. If he wasn’t so impatient, he would have taken you home and had you spread your legs for him to fuck you with his tongue and his fingers. Then he would have forced you onto your knees and fucked your face until you cried before he put his dick anywhere near your cunt.
But this is just as good.
Megumi pulls his cock from his boxers, groaning as he pumps himself a few times. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sheer size of him, but also the fact that underneath the pink head of his cock is a little silver barbell. 
“You got a condom, baby?
“N-No,... you have your dick pierced?”
Megumi almost forgets he has it half the time, “yeah… feels good, don’t worry.”
You bite your lip, suddenly a little jealous of how he exactly figured out his piercing felt good. Megumi notices your flushed face and the way you chew on your lip. His large hand gently cups your face, forcing you to look at him so he can press a soft kiss to your lips.
He reaches for your hand, bringing it down to wrap around his hard cock. It’s heavy in your hand and you gently squeeze, jerking him off.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Megumi kisses at your skin, “promise ‘m gonna take you on a date tomorrow.”
You giggle at his attempt to make you feel better, “you better, cus if you’re gonna fuck me raw you better buy me dinner.”
Megumi chuckles through a low groan, grabbing your wrist and forcing you to stop squeezing and jerking him off because if you keep doing it he’s gonna cum like a teenager because you’re the prettiest fucking girl he’s ever seen and now you’re on top of him with your top pushed over your pretty tits and your pussy waiting for him.
Megumi kisses you again, his tongue pressing against yours as you lift yourself up a little, your hand wrapping around the base of Megumi’s big fucking cock to line him up with your sopping hole. 
Megumi’s hands land on your hips, his dark eyes meeting yours as his tip prods as your hole. You feel his piercing catch on the outside of your hole and you tip your head back and moan as you sink down, Megumi peppering kisses across your tits as he helps you lower yourself down on his cock.
You’re so fucking tight around him when he finally bottoms out, your pussy wrapped so snug, pulsing slightly as you pant and moan.
“S’big, Gumi,” you whine.
“I’ll be gentle,” he says as he lifts your hips, slowly pulling you back down on his cock. “You gotta help me out, princess.”
You pant, only just noticing how foggy your windows are. The two of you are coated in a thin sheen of sweat and you lean back, planting your hands on the tops of Megumi’s knees so you can bounce on his cock.
You start off slow before you get lost in the feeling of his cock and the piercing dragging against your tight walls. Megumi’s hands bruise your hips as he helps you bounce on his cock, his eyes unable to look away from where your pussy sucks in his cock.
Your slick is forming a white ring around the base of his cock, your wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs and down onto his pants. You’re fucked stupid on his dick as you babble and moan incoherently, unable to stop bouncing as you chase your orgasm.
You pull almost all the way off his dick before forcing yourself back down, your eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix. Megumi’s hand presses against the slight bulge in your tummy, the feeling making you fucking dizzy.
“Harder, please Gumi, fuck me harder,” you cry out, your finger sinking down between your thighs to rub circles on your clit. 
Megumi feels like he gets harder at the nickname, “fuck, baby,” he coos, his hands bruising your hips as he bullies your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your poor cervix. One of Megumi’s hands wraps around your throat, squeezing on your pretty neck. You choke on your own moans as your orgasm nears.
“I’m gonna– Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you cry, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, mixing with your mascara and slipping down your pretty cheeks.
You feel your belly start to burn and your nails scratch at Megumi’s forearms as he lets go of your neck to press his own thumb against your sensitive little clit, forcing your orgasm out of you.
You cry when you feel the coil in your belly snap, your cunt spasming around Megumi’s cock and gushing around him.
“That’s it, princess. Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he eggs you on, your legs shaking at the feeling of your orgasm crashing into you. “You’re so tight, baby.”
You don’t respond, your vision turning white as your cunt clamps down on him. Megumi groans and grunts at the feeling, bouncing your hips on his lap and using your fucked out body to chase his own orgasm.
Megumi’s cock twitches inside you and you just whine and cry as he pumps you full of his cum, thick white ropes painting your insides. He forces your hips down onto his cock, finally ceasing his movements and just panting, attempting to catch his breath.
Your body shakes and you mewl softly, babbling incoherently. Megumi coos, pulling you against his chest and running a hand down your back to bring you back to earth, “shh, shh, you’re okay.”
“Mhm,” you hum.
“Too much?” he asks, petting your hair and kissing the crown of your head.
You shake your head, “best sex of my life,” you sigh.
Megumi chuckles, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back, his other hand fixing your shirt back over your boobs. “I’ll take you home now, kay?”
“You gonna stay?” you ask, peering up at him with a fucked out expression and dried mascara stuck to your cheeks.
“You want me to?” he smiles.
You nod, “mhm… otherwise how will you make me breakfast?”
Megumi laughs, lifting your head to press kisses to your face. 
After a moment longer, Megumi lifts you off of his softening dick, his cum leaking from your abused little hole. You sigh at the empty feeling, your thighs aching from the stretch. Megumi fixes your panties back into place, pressing another kiss to your forehead.
He manages to carry you and put you into the passenger seat, fastening your seatbelt for you before starting up your car and actually driving you home–
“Wait, where the hell am I going?”
You can only tiredly giggle from the passenger seat.
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author's note: YEESH! i need a cold ass shower. dunno how i feel about it but!!! it’s here!!!
826 notes · View notes
curlyfriesgalore · 11 days ago
Text
the tulpar's very own "mom" & "dad."
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i sent an anon message to a user (iykyk 🫣) about the reader dating curly while being a co-captain/pilot alongside him. they're seen as the mom and dad of the group because of their positions as leaders, and daisuke claimed they both had major facebook mom energy. definitely not self-projecting.
the two rolled with it, but discovered that they liked it way more than they realized, eventually calling each other mommy and daddy in their own space.
★ this is a list of headcanons and what is essentially a one-shot that's broken up into bullets. although, fair warning, i wrote A LOT, so there's so much to scroll through under the cut. anyway, the first half is sfw and other is nsfw.
☆ gen tags: fem! reader (she/her) who loves being captain and doesn't know what's popular these days. reader and curly are in their early 30s. no crash au. curly wants to have a family with you. jimmy is a janitor here LMAO.
★ nsfw tags MDNI: mommy (mama) kink. daddy kink. role switching but leans into fdom/msub. curly secretly got a thing for breeding 🫢.
[any feedback on my writing is much appreciated btw! since i'm doing this to improve —iris🌠]
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sfw.
★ the dynamic.
you and curly met through working at pony express. both of you were equally capable captains and pilots of your respective ships, bonding over the responsibilities and pressures of your roles.
curly adored your genuine drive for this job. you were so passionate about bringing out the best in people and enjoyed micro-organizing every little detail, making sure everything went smoothly.
meanwhile, he was just good at talking, which you would always praise, but he never found much pride in what he does. however, it paid immensely well, and, at the very least, he got to indulge in his love for astronomy at every waking hour, distracting himself enough from cycling through his depressive thoughts.
so, he's not complaining. plus, he gets to ogle at and hang out with the prettiest and coolest person at pony express.
(sure, he had jimmy, so he wasn't always so alone with his mind, but with you in his life, he might actually have a chance at settling down. though, curly was getting ahead of himself. he'll try to drop his future family fantasies for now... juuust until he's sure he can bag you).
curly finds your way of leading to be so endearing and... intimidating, honestly. while he was calm and compromising, you were firm and authoritarian. you were never swayed by incompetence and planted a strong ground when navigating discourse between crewmates, but, at the same time, you were nurturing. you have an air of deep kindness and wise guidance that sends him reeling. he'd openly tell you how much he admired that, but would never admit that he daydreams of how hot you looked when you ordered your crew around. he's got to stay professional, after all!
at some point, the two of you were paired for a 3-month long-haul flight. you, the captain, and he, the co-captain. one thing lead to another and without the company's knowledge, you two fell for each other.
how could you not? you two had all the elements of a power couple and understood each other better than anyone else. besides, he is one hunk of a man. of course you'd want to snag him for yourself, who wouldn't?
funnily enough, you guys asked to see each other in the cockpit with the same intention of declaring feelings.
and, of course, since you two were grown adults stuck on a spacecraft far too long for your libidos to handle, it only took two confessions interrupting each other, two pairs of hands holding, and two soft kisses to lead to the two of you passionately making out, with you straddling his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back.
it's been years since then, and the tulpar was just one of many long-haul trips where the two of you got to work together.
however, you guys have kept your relationship hidden for the sake of professionalism. even jimmy was dumbfounded to accidentally find out nearly a year into dating.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"dude, why the fuck do you have captain l/n in your wallet...?" jimmy squinted at the photo. his eyes scrolled down the print, coming to a halt and widening at what he saw, "wait, shut up, is that you two kissing?"
his eyebrows contorted into a tense knit. his mouth gaped as he stared at curly, who stood and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "since when?!"
as curly explained himself, jimmy half-heartedly laughed as he shook his head, bemusement painting his face. whether or not he was ever happy to learn about this, curly will never know.
then, realization hit. jimmy frowned as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "oh, god, please don't tell me those stains i've been cleaning were from you guys?"
"huh?! no, no! jimmy, i swear, that wasn't us, i promise!" curly panicked, his head shaking profusely.
turns out, it was, lmfao. jimmy gave him an earful, and curly kept apologizing, embarrassed that his best friend knows a little too much about what he's been doing around the ship.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
this man adored you, more than anything. the security you had in him—in yourself, most of all, was intoxicatingly comforting.
the two of you swore to stick together for as long as it takes, and have already planned out your wedding, buying a house together, changing careers (curly wants to be a stay-at-home dad, maybe freelance in something if he's got time), owning pets, raising kids (he is 100% a girl dad!!! i can see him wanting at least 2, but if you still have room for one more, he'll gladly take responsibility *wink* *wink*), etc.
curly believed that you both balanced well as parents. you would teach the kids to be brave and confident in themselves, whereas, he would help them learn to handle confrontation calmly and be friendly to all.
(he's not saying that you weren't friendly, just that, between the two of you, he specialized more in the charm department. he wasn't wrong, though! back before you guys dated, he cranked his charisma to a max, and look where that's got him now 🤭).
all of this meant everything to curly. he had quite a rough start to life, not financially but familially (how you want to interpret that is up to you). it's why he's become such a people-pleaser and tends to be a doormat, growing used to internalizing his feelings because he believed others were more deserving of pity (a belief that's been reinforced by jimmy throughout their friendship).
not to mention, how much he worried about being with someone who had to stay on earth. he felt guilty for this hypothetical person, how they'd be akin to a military spouse, waiting for god knows how long, just for curly to come back and stay for less than 6 months at a time. it sickened him to think of how that would affect his future children.
so, for him to be in a relationship with someone in the same occupation and caliber as him eased a lot of that fear. and, this is the same person who is known for her emotionally maturity, who knows how to express her thoughts and feelings, and who loves curly for all that makes him him, giving him more reasons than he already had to get down on that knee.
good GOD does he wish he could go ahead and do that already, but proposing on an aged piece of metal in outer space wasn't the most... romantic setting, as much as you jokingly insisted it was.
but, no worries, curly's got it all planned out. once you all land back on earth, curly is making sure you get your dream proposal, for that man is stopping at nothing to wed you and love you for the rest of his life!
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★ the beginning to a never-ending petname.
one night, anya pulled out a pop-culture board game, one that the others understood the rules and references of fairly quickly. but, you and curly? oh, you guys needed time.
you two weren't dumb by any means, you guys were just... a little behind on the trends—trends that have been out for forever 💀.
everyone poked fun at how much you would both pause and say, "huh...?" or "w-what's that from, again?" how your brows would knit and furrow, your faces looking blank as ever. the two of you would take a slow glance at each other, then at the others, and shake your head in confusion.
admittedly, swansea was in the same boat as you two, but even he knew a couple of things better than you lot. "the benefits of raising two nerds for kids," he'd say. he liked laughing at you guys, made him feel young.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"ohh, isn't that the game you play on your gameboy, daisuke? the... you know, uh, the cute pika ball thing?" daisuke stared at curly, dumbfounded by what he was hearing.
"CAPTAIN. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THE NAME OF ONE OF—IF NOT—THE HIGHEST FORMS OF ART?!" he turned to you, desperation fueling his eyes. "l/n, please tell me you've at least heard of pokémon before..." daisuke exaggeratedly clasped his hands together.
you sat there, pursing your lips with shifty eyes and pretended to whistle as you looked away.
"anya. swansea. i think i'm gonna faint..." he dramatically dropped himself onto the two. swansea shook his head, uncrossing his arms and pulling daisuke off his and anya's laps, "kid, you are way too dramatic for your own good."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
daisuke exasperatedly commented on how you and curly were so much like his parents, clueless and far too involved in work to know his interests.
then, he thinks for a second, and finally decides that you guys were technically the parents of the ship.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"right? think about it. if the tulpar were a house and we were family, l/n and curly would be mom and dad 'cause they're responsible for us and the ship. swansea's the grandpa—oh, come on, swan, don't look at me like that!"
"i mean, you do have grandkids, swansea..."
"exactly. THANK YOU, anya. now, you get to be the cool older sister, i'm the even cooler teenage son, polle can be like... our little pet or something, and jimmy is the uncle!"
"wh-why am i the uncle?"
"'cause you know... you're... you."
"what is THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
as an "argument" ensued between the others, you and curly were flushing. nobody but jimmy knew of your relationship, but the fact that daisuke figuratively paired you guys as a married couple turned you into a bashful, blushing mess.
nobody noticed, really. jimmy was too busy grumbling about being seen as the weird uncle, and everyone started getting really annoyed by him. so, in classic curly and y/n fashion, you two tried to resolve the situation (curly reassured jimmy that uncles can be cool! but jimmy's frown just deepened).
the game ended, and the two of you walked to your sleeping quarters, reflecting on how it went. not bringing up the mom/dad thing just yet, but it lurked in the back of your minds.
deciding to stay in his room, you and curly changed into your pjs. you snuggled up under the covers, but he momentarily checked on some paperwork. you groaned, rolled your eyes, and patted the pillows.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"babyyy, just get into bed now." you pouted.
curly chuckled, "okay, okay... just give me ooone more sec, mama, i'll be right there—"
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
your eyes widened, a fuzzy warmth bubbled within you. curly quickly got embarrassed and apologized, but when you softly chuckled and reassured him that you didn't mind, he relaxed.
hearing how smoothly 'mama' rolled out his tongue unlocked something deep in you.
the truth was, curly had been calling you 'mom', 'mama', and 'mommy' in his fantasies for quite some time now. he told you, now with him in bed, how it helped him immerse himself in imagining his future with you. even in scenarios where you didn't have kids yet, it still felt so soothing to call you by those titles.
he rested his head in the crook of your neck as you circled his back with your palm, occassionally playing with the ends of his hair. as he yapped about it, trying to make it seem less of a big deal for him, you lifted his chin to face you. he instantly softened, his words faltering as you looked down on him.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"you can call me, mommy, more often if you'd like to, baby... i really don't mind." you reassured in a low voice.
curly was uncertain, but his ocean doe eyes remain glued to your deep gaze. he swallowed, "are you sure? you don't have to put up with it if you don't really like it, honey, it's okay—"
you softly hushed him, thumbing the golden hairs scattered on his cheek. "no, i mean it." you paused, hoping the following words sounded smooth, "...mommy thinks it's genuinely cute when you call me that."
curly squirmed. a whimper resided in his throat, but, as the rumbling of your voice trailed down his spine, he let a quiet, high-pitch moan escape his lips.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
for a man who presents himself as someone very self-assured, he does have a hard time accepting that you were really okay with it.
however, when his hesitancy eases into normalcy, he's calling you 'mommy' and 'mama' in every other sentence. if not, all his sentences.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"hey, mommy, where'd you put my mug?"
"mama, you need to stop sleeping so late. it's bad for your health." (he's a hypocrite and he knows it).
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
curly's voice was naturally deep, saccharine sweet, and a bit raspy at times. but, when he called you by your motherly petnames, he'd go an octave softer, especially as the night came to a close and sleepiness was taking a toll on him. he'd sound a little dumb and incoherent, but the bass in him remained strong.
he still calls you by the classic petnames, mainly 'darling' and 'honey' since those are his other personal faves. though, minutes prior to work, he'd try to use your actual name or settle with 'babe,' so he doesn't accidentally call you 'mommy' in public. it was deeply personal for him, and if someone like jimmy caught wind of that, it would greatly upset curly, even though he would very likely tell you it was fine (just so you wouldn't chew jimmy alive).
so, when YOU began calling him, 'daddy,' it sent his mind into a haywire. (how it happened is in the nsfw section!)
he loved the safety of calling you his mommy, how it relieved the weight of his captain duties and the thoughts burdened in his mind. but, with his newfound title, he'd flip between feeling secure in your protection to wanting to do nothing but protect you. not from any real danger, perse, but, moreso, caring for each other's well-being when either of you wanted to indulge in a little less control.
it made sense that even you, the commanding leader who enjoyed delegating and dominating others (other than him), needed a break from your responsibilities and wanted curly to take the wheel for a change.
you both took turns pampering one another. he would do everything you wanted, and made sure to wrap you in his big, strong arms by the end of the day.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"rest your pretty head for me, okay, mommy? daddy's got you..."
he brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it deeply, thumbing your knuckles with his large, calloused fingers. with his other arm, curly pressed your waist closer to his, letting you relish in his warmth.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
when it was his turn, a long snuggle session, loads of praise, and kisses in every place was all he needed (don't forget to call him your good little boy! he needs his mommy's praise after a rough day at work).
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"honeyyy, i've called you 'good boy' like 24 times in a rowww...!" you whined. of course you didn't mind peppering kisses on his face with the same adoring name over and over again, but now, he was just getting greedy.
curly giggled, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he softened his sea blue eyes, "just ooone more, pleaaase, mama? please...?"
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
he loved how reliable the term 'daddy' felt. it gave him a little ego boost. he's always had a pretty good relationship with his masculinity, but this just added onto that like a good affirmation.
the way his mind would get so lost in replaying how you two back-and-forthed with your respective petnames. it felt like he was role-playing his future family with you in real time.
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★ extras.
it became an ongoing joke with the crew, especially with daisuke. whenever you'd tell him to get back to work, he'd drawl out a long "okayyy, mommmm," but quickly apologized after swansea smacked the back of his head.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"tch, don't talk to your captain like that."
"ach! i'm sorry, I'M SORRYYY—i was kidding!!!"
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
anya found it silly, never really saying anything like daisuke, but since you two became good friends (both because you guys genuinely clicked and were the only women on board), she had a knack for teasing you about it. she knew something more was going on between you and curly. so, maybe, just maybe, during a psych eval, you eventually spilled to her about your relationship.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"hehe, called it."
"seriously?! how?"
"y/n... it's so obvious. i've seen you guys sneak into each other's rooms."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
swansea didn't care. he was an actual dad, after all, and practically everyone he knew eventually became a parent one way or another. though, if you felt comfortable enough with swansea and told him about your relationship, he surprisingly wouldn't mind giving you two a piece of advice. how to keep a long-term marriage? dude's been with his wife for over 40 years and counting. raising children? please, he's done it twice. unclogging the toilet after your kids threw your deodorant down the drain? don't ask, just listen. you're much better off not knowing how.
whatever it is, ask away, but don't expect anything easy on the ears. swansea gives advice in poetic prose that borderline sounds like he's taking a jab at you.
truthfully, jimmy is somewhere in between being deeply irritated by the both of you and not giving two shits. he hates how you're sort of a curly clone, in the sense that you're also a high-performing person that everyone adores to work with. but, what's worse, is that you're so much harder to get mad at and are 100% capable of calling out his ass.
he's had to catch himself from saying anything too mean to curly multiple times. he knows he's easily replaceable, he's the janitor for god's sake, and if he said too much in front of you, he knows you'd tell pony express to fire him on the spot.
but, if we're assuming that jimmy is mentally better in the head, he'd eventually get over it and shrug off your guys' relationship, not wanting to grow envious as he does by default.
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nsfw.
★ mommy.
it didn't surprise you that curly loved calling you 'mommy' in bed too. he'd always say, "mommy, you're so beautiful", "m-mommy, it's too tight...!" and when he gets overwhelmed, he'd become so dazed as his dick ached, crying because his mama felt so good.
he was like pavlov's dog, only the bell was your petname and you were the meal. if either of you were ever so slightly horny and everyone was stowed away in their quarters, hearing 'mommy' reverberate out of your mouth had him squeezing his thighs.
however, he's gotten used to mostly keeping it in his pants. not letting himself get needy when it's used casually. otherwise, he'd cease to function.
he loves it when you ride him, he gets all whimpery and brain-dead, begging his mama to let him cum out of his "little" boy dick.
all he wanted was his mommy to use him, make him so overstimulated until all that was left in his empty head was you.
sometimes, he loved the feeling of reaching his orgasm more than the orgasm itself. it's that momentary numbness he gets that he enjoys chasing, how every single thought completely disappeared, leaving him into nothing but a panting mess — all of him leaking out of his cock.
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★ daddy.
one night, you were laying on curly, sitting upright. he held you in his arms as you spread your legs far and wide, toes digging into the mattress, gripping onto curly's biceps for support.
and, just like curly when he called you 'mama' for the first time, you accidentally slipped out a "daddy—!" as he fingered you, knuckles-deep.
you suddenly went quiet, quickly covering a hand over your mouth.
curly's eyes widened, his fingers stilled inside of you as his heart raced in his chest... he didn't expect it, but his shock washed into dominance.
he pulled out his fingers, his tone more stern and husk as he whispered, "say that again."
you whimpered, the loss of fullness making your thighs shudder. without a single thought, you called him daddy again, and again, and again... until he flipped you onto your stomach and was back to toying with you, digging into your insides at much greater speeds than before.
when you began regularly using it, he'd grow so romantic and reserved, wanting to take his time to just worship you—peppering deep kisses from head to toe—because in his eyes, you were the most precious person in existence.
he's never rough unless you tell him to be or he knows that it'll make you cum even better, but this man just loves to be slow and sensual. it's his go-to speed.
his favorite thing to do is coo at you, asking if you like how daddy is loving you or if daddy's doing a good job at touching your little hole. even when he's assuming a dominant role, he wants your reassurance.
curly is never mean. he only likes to light-heartedly tease you whenever you'd whine for him to keep going. other than that, he was heavy on his praises, loved complimenting you till you were blushing all over.
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★ taking turns.
now, you guys would call each other 'mommy' and 'daddy' regardless of the dynamic, but if either of you felt more subby, you'd settle for the classic, 'good girl,' and him, 'good boy' (or any other submissive petname you prefer).
if you're domming and he's subbing, he wants you to use up all of his cum for your pleasure. he hopes you'll let him spill all that's left in him for hours on end.
however, most of the time, he's not really built for that, only able to handle a little over a round. so, to make up for it, he'll let you get him all pent up and force him to hold it in, using his desperation as energy to serve you.
the longer you left him like that, the faster his licks and finger-fucks became.
if you're cruel, making him rut into you would send him shaking. he'd struggle so hard, needing to take breaks as he alternated between slow and steady thrusts to rough humps according to what you ordered... oh, tears were definitely rolling down his cheeks.
(don't worry, he's not hurt. it's just a lot for him to physically handle. but, for you, he'd withstand anything!)
on the off-chance that he has the energy to go longer, he wants you to use him in all positions with only a minute to breathe after each cum. he wants to lose it, make him sweaty and breathless, please. turn him into a pathetic display only for your eyes to see.
if he's domming and you're subbing, he finds it fun to deny your orgasm, loving how surprised you get whenever he'd lift your vibrator off your clit or leave his dick in you, barely moving an inch. but even then, he quickly caves in and lets you have your way because nothing turns him on more than you cumming and crying for your 'daddy.'
he doesn't do that to hurt you, after all, he hates the mere possibility of even remotely making you uncomfortable. but, when he asks whether or not mommy misses his fingers, and you'd mewl in agreement, he can't help himself from edging you.
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★ curly thinking of you. (extras).
he jerks off to the idea of breeding you.
but, even though it gets his dick all wet, he won't re-enact it just yet. he doesn't want to accidentally impregnate you when neither of you were ready—especially since you're the one carrying.
even if you were incredibly horny and adamant on it, he'd keep his rationale.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"mommy... i'm not cumming inside you." he chuckled, shaking his head with his tone, firm. you whined, "but, why not?" a needy frown formed on your lips, "i just want to feel good, daddy. you said i could...!"
you grinded down on his boxers, wetness seeped through the fabric of your panties. curly stifled a groan as he felt your clothed folds slide against his tip, drenched in his pre-cum.
"i know, mommy, i know... daddy'll take care of you soon, i promise... but i'm not risking anything, okay?" he pressed a kiss on your forehead, thumbing circles on your stomach with his hands gripping your waist. "it's for your own safety, mama."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
but, since this was all in his head, he could indulge in it as much as he wanted.
curly loved remembering the way your cum dripped out of your hole, how softly your pussy parted. it made him wish it was his, wanting to fill you up and let his mess soak up inside you.
he wished he could finger it back into you—or, even better, tongue-fuck it in. the thought of having you sit on his face with him lapping his cum into your walls, as you rubbed your clit against the end of his nose got him all hot and bothered.
with his hand pumping himself from base to tip, he'd think of you laying down on your back, wrapping your legs around curly's head as you pushed his mouth further into you. he'd moan into your pretty parts, purposefully deepening it so his voice would vibrate all over your pussy.
[holy shit, i wrote so much. thank you for reading all the way ♡ let me know if you guys want more captain! reader and/or mommy/daddy kink! curly —iris🌠]
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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months ago
Note
Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Boothill, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his gn s/o asking him randomly if they can hug him in private?
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Sunday: adheres to your every want and need without complaint.
He’d easily have a room cleared for you within seconds and make it known that no one should dare disrupt his ‘meeting’ with you, unless it was absolutely necessary.
And even then he’s the one making the final decision on whether or not the issue at hand was really worth his time and resources; which for most of the time they weren’t.
Sunday would more than likely make private hugs a thing in the future. He knew how busy he was and how little time that gives him with you that he felt as though somethings had to change as a result; Also it acted as the perfect guise for him to keep an close eye on you as you held onto him tightly.
He’s selfish and greedy with you and your affection and will take it whenever he felt necessary. Sunday was a hoarder in his own right but mainly with you and who he was forced to share you with because if Sunday had it his way, you’d never leave the room nor his arms unless he said so.
Boothill:
Smirking bastard this one.
Despite the fact that -apart from his face- he couldn’t actually feel anything, he wasn’t one to ignore you wanting to hug him because of it.
He, much like Gallagher, is the kind who’d thoughtfully enjoy just spending the day having you in his arms as having you close was his remedy for almost everything.
However he would be the type to tickle your sensitive spots for the fun of it, and getting to hear your squeals of excitement followed by the sound of your laughter as it makes him happy seeing you happy from something he did.
Does he hate that he can’t feel you against him? Yes.
Will he try to squeeze you closer in a desperate attempt to feel you, even if it that if was faint? Also yes. He just hoped that he could one day trick himself into thinking that he could feel you, but he spent too long coming to terms with that fact that he had lost that ability long ago.
But he keeps this all as far away from you as possible and decided to focus on the warmth your smile brings him instead to compensate.
Welt:
Is more than willing in giving you a hug.
He might think that something was wrong and that you needed some privacy so that you could confess to him your worries in confidence.
So upon arriving somewhere void of anyone and anything, Welt would ask if there was something that you wanted to get off your chest, only for you to tell him that you just wanted to hug him without having so many eyes on you when doing so.
Welt, being the most understand man ever, completely understands where your coming from and would let you hug him for as long as your heart wished. For he simply wanted you to feel as though he was there for you, regardless of how silly or stupid you might think your issues were, he wanted you to know that someone cared and that someone was him.
You’d probably end up sleeping him his arms as he was just so comfortable to be pressed up against and warm. Welt would find himself staring at you for far longer than he probably should, smiling dopily, before helping you to his room or yours where he would soon fall asleep also.
Dan heng;
Isn’t that great with PDA but is more expressive of his emotions behind closed doors. So the moment you asked for him to give you a hug in private, Dan Heng was more than willing to oblige.
After all he’s more prone to giving you affection and sweet words when you were away from everyone else. Not to say that he doesn’t shows that he cares for you in front of other people, but it would probably be a small group of people you both know, whom Dan Heng would feel comfortable with showing that side of himself towards.
Other than that rare expedition, most -if not- all affection was reserved for when you two were alone together.
His inner dragon noodle thrives off of your affection and warmth to the point where Dan Heng becomes flustered and embarrassed by it. You on the other hand thought it was extremely cute that he softly purrs when you burrow yourself into his arms.
‘You’re purring.’ You’d muse, kissing under his jaw.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Dan Heng says, face extremely flustered as the sound of his purrs continued.
He may not be all that vocal but he didn’t need to when his body told you everything you needed to know in the moment. He loved spending quieter moments with you and holding you close as it gave him his much needed reassurance that you very much appreciated him still. That he still had a purpose in your life to fulfil.
Gallagher:
Will agree within a heartbeat because any time with you is time well spent in his opinion.
He may or may not use you as an excuse to have the day off, just so he could hold you for the rest of the day, to the point it might as well become a cuddle session.
Give him any opportunity to cuddle and be lazy with you? Count. Him. In.
Also he’d probably would bite you at random points but you were made more then aware of this habit of his. So you’ve had enough time to make your peace with that fact, unfortunately you were also left with the unenviable position of having to explain why you were covered in bite marks, but that’s neither here nor there.
Gallagher would more than gladly spend the rest of his day with you in his arms no matter what and you weren’t one to argue with him as he was practically a walking furnace, and he made for an comfortable pillow on top of that too. Not to mention that he -in general- smelt amazing, which may or may not have been a primary cause for you to somehow manage to fall asleep in his arms a hundred percent of the time.
Blade:
Blade only accepts to hug you in utter privacy because PDA isn’t his thing. So at first he might not seem at all interested in giving you a hug, but the moment you mentioned that you’d want the hug in private, Blade grunted as he grabbed your arm and dragged you elsewhere from prying eyes.
‘This should work.’ He’d then say to himself before looking back at you and raising an eyebrow. ‘Well?’
‘Well what?’ You ask.
‘Aren’t you going to hug me?’ He relies.
‘Well you never really agreed to be hugged, you just grunted and dragged me here so…’ you trailed off as you were then brought against his chest as his arms kept your in place.
The hug itself was stiff, rigid and was a little awkward but all you have to do was practice a little patience and soon you’d feel him slowly start to relax under your touch. He’s not the type whom people feel as though they could come to him for affection or comforting, affirming words because that’s just not Blade, and he will agree to this also for it not being his forte.
For you however, Blade will try to compensate for those shortcomings by any means necessary. He doesn’t try for others nor put in the effort because why would he when it would ultimately amount to nothing?
but you? His partner? He genuinely tries but is secretly happy when you show compassion as to he just can’t.
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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 11 months ago
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Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]
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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)
[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]
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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.
No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.” Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.
Even if he already is aware of it…
Angel’s teasing doesn’t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.
Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.
It doesn’t last forever though.
Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.
It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.
The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.
Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.
His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.
Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.
He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.
Enough is enough.
Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.
He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.
Unruly luck….maybe?
Fate, possibly?
He’ll figure it out one way or another.
“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….
The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.
How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”
Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…
Odd…
He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.
He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.
Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..
Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.
A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.
He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.
Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.
If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”
You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.
“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.
Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…
“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…
You brought them out of him without even trying.
Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.
Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.
They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.
When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?
All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.
Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.
He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.
How sweet you’d taste?
How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?
How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?
He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…
Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.
Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?
He’s here for a reason, right?
Why grant you more agency than required?
“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.
Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.
Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.
How fortunate…
Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.
Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.
“….please don’t stop..”
“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”
Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.
Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…
“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.
The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.
Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.
Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.
Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.
Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.
“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.
It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…
You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.
It’d be pure entertainment.
However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?
By his mere presence even.
The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.
The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.
Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.
“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.
Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.
The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.
It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.
He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.
You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.
It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.
“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”
You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”
“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”
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My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤
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sunhee27 · 2 months ago
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✿ Enha when one of the members gets a girlfriend
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• 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ! r・fluff established relationship ・kisses, petnames ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ pls reblog if you like it and/or requests are welcome.
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• 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 (이희승)
-Relived/adoring
They all let out a sigh when Heeseung told them that he has a girlfriend. Knowing Heeseung, they knew that he needed to have people around him. 
As much as they tease, they also just adore you guys. Heeseung would be an absolute angel around you, and they all knew that you were his happy pill, his happy place and a person he felt mostly relaxed with. The man could almost not sleep without you. 
And the members were thankful of you to make his this happy and relaxed, knowing he was being loved and cared for. Giving him his well needed rest. 
They would tease about it at times, like when you accidentally feel asleep on him. Or taking pictures when you both fell asleep hugging and when he was back hugging you in the kitchen.  (Rest of the members under the cut)
• 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘 (박종성)
-jealous
Don’t get me wrong but the members would be so jealous whenever Jay would be yapping about you, calling you his princess and stuff. You and him have been together for almost a decade man, at least that’s what it felt. And the members would be jealous about how perfect yours and his relationship was. 
Okay but like, they still loved you guys and adored your interactions. They also liked talking to you, because they could get you to say every embarrassing thing Jay did that he only told you.
And then they would tease Jay about it, but he loved you too much to even be mad at you. 
• 𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 (심재윤)
-not surprised/not leaving you alone 
It came to no one’s surprise that Jake would get a girlfriend sooner or later. But that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t want to see everything you and him did. It was all just so giggly. 
Annoying Jake was another plus, but when Jake finally snapped, they would all go wild. There was just something so fun about it all. 
Whenever they saw the two of you having your moment, they would take pictures, post them and make Jake annoyed. 
But it was all with love and everyone knew. And even when the members accidentally leaked you and Jake’s relationship, he didn’t get mad, he was only relieved that it finally happened and now you and Jake didn’t have to be secret all the time. 
• 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 (박성훈)
-scared
They would honestly be scared of getting any close to you. Like they knew Sunghoon would throw hands. 
Even if Sunghoon would ask questions like ‘isn’t my girlfriend beautiful’ at the dinner table while showing pics of you. They would all gulp and not answer, knowing that whatever they said would not be taken well. But on the other hand, you were so nice and just wanted to interact with his member, give a good impression. 
But Sunghoon just wanted you for himself. He would hug the shit out of you if you ever said that you wanted to talk with the members.
• 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 (김선우)
-Joining
Sunoos girlfriend= everyone’s friends 
Man these members would not leave you two alone. Like if you were just chilling with each other in the living room, they would randomly join, even against Sunoos protests. They wouldn’t do it to be mean, they just really liked you guys, they let you do what you want, but you could not escape that they were always by your sides. 
Okay but like, they would respect you guys and give you the time alone. But you and Sunoo didn’t complain that much anyways. 
So once in a while you would have a, seven boys and one girl night. 
• 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 (양정원)
-Protecting
Don’t tell me they wouldn’t. Like they are gatekeeping y’all to the max. Dating rumours, what are those???
They would be so protective to their leader, knowing how much effort he already put in the group. And getting a girlfriend was even more crazy, they would accept it and also love it, but they were not letting anyone touch or even interact with you guys. 
So whenever you two were just cuddling and a camera randomly popped out of nowhere, they knew that it could leak everything. Making them so feral. 
• 𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 (西村力)
-teasing
Being the youngest has a cost. Being the youngest with a girlfriend on the other hand😈
They would tease him so much about it, take pictures, make jokes. Make Niki flush red and go bonkers. 
But as soon as you stepped into the game, they would all go quiet. Like really, they didn’t dare make fun anymore. That made Niki just smirk at them and laugh. 
Then laterrrrrr, when they tease again saying ‘loverboy is blushing when she is around’ he would hit back with. 
‘Y’all can’t even pull girls, and I am even the youngest here’ dissed for real. 
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never-afters · 3 months ago
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DEMO. (SOON)
The crowning of a jealous king one century ago spelled the doom of invokers, beings bestowed with the ability to control the essence of the world and manifest it in the surface. Out of envy that he was naught but a normal human, he ordered the capture and execution of invokers, reinforcing his power as a king. He made an enemy out of your people to secure his pride and throne.
A hundred of years passed and the slaughter only continues, a jealous ruler crowned one after another. The land of Zandria is stained with the blood of your ancestors, and it only continues to spill. You, who were once revered, admired, and loved, are now loathed, imprisoned, and executed simply for bearing the ability to manipulate aether, the essence of the land of Aeresia.
You are an invoker. Do you have what it takes to survive the wrath of a land that calls for your death? Or will you, like the ones before you, fall into the abyss?
Abyssal Depths is a dark fantasy set in the fictional world of Aeresia. It is the revamped version of my interactive fiction previously titled Invoker.
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˖⋆࿐໋₊ Who are you? Only you have the answer to that question. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Build bonds with the people you meet. Friendship, rivalry, romance — pick your poison. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Disguise yourself as a human, working as a mercenary for the guild Sentinel. Try your best to hide the truth from your guildmates. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Do your job. Who knows? Maybe along the way, you'll find what you're looking for. ˖⋆࿐໋₊ Survive. Perhaps you'll live long enough to see all the mysteries unravel.
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Elfrid Basset [f] ✦ Your childhood friend and the daughter of the woman who saved you. Elfrid has always had a strong personality, always pushing you out of your comfort zone. Stubborn, impulsive, yet caring to those she cares about, there was never a time where trouble never followed her. She doesn't know your truth, but as people say, there is no secret that lasts forever.
Lucianus le Cordiér [m] ✦ An ex-noble you and Elfrid stumbled upon a year ago one night. Without the riches and reputation his family once had, Lucian brandished his skill as a swordsman and earned himself a spot as a mercenary in the same guild as you. He appears kind, gentle and open, but the air of mystery that surrounds him proves that no one truly knows who he was once.
Alcaeus Vanderbilt [m] ✦ A person from your past that you thought you will never see again. Meeting him may mean good things, but perhaps it also meant that the ghosts from your past are now catching up to you. Smart, skilled, but surrounded by walls he built to protect himself, Alcaeus won't let anyone take away anything from him again.
Amelia Vanderbilt [f] ✦ Someone from your past who lives with the guilt of surviving. Amelia has always been sickly, but despite everything she has outlived everyone else. She's still the timid and soft-spoken girl you barely saw back home, the only thing you can't believe is her unwavering trust that there is still good left in the world you're both living in.
Clair [m] ✦ A traveling bard who decided one day it will be fun to go adventuring with you and your group. He said he wants to turn your exploits into a great story, and no matter how hard you dissuade him, he never relents. Charming and cunning, that's how Clair is, and you never realized how dangerous those two qualities together were until you met him.
Salomé [f] ✦ An eccentric woman you met in the middle of your mission. Boisterous, fun, yet eccentric, it's hard not to notice her with all the rings that adorn her fingers and the scars that she flaunts like trophies. She tries to come off as someone who knows nothing, but you have the feeling that she hides something you need to know. You wonder what it could be.
Kazehara [f/m/nb] ✦ With clothes you've never seen around Zandria, Kazehara stood out like a sore thumb the first time you saw them. Framed for a murder they swear they never did, they join you in an attempt to clear their name. Sarcastic, cynical, and brash, there is never a shortage of insult from Kazehara. However, you know too well that it's merely an image they conjured to protect themselves in a land they know nothing about.
??? [f/m/nb] ✦ A figure in your dreams, blurred and ever changing. A memory of the past, a phantom of your grief, your desire for warmth — you do not know. However, the way they speak, the way they try to meet your eyes behind the fog that keeps them at bay, and the way they try to reach for you make them seem real. They feel familiar, and there exists a tug in your soul that pulls you closer to them.
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OTHERS
✦ Ask box is open! Any question is okay but there is no guarantee that your ask will be answered. Anything that are spoilery, disrespectful, and extremely explicit will be deleted. ^^ ✦ The demo for Invoker can still be accessed through google search. However, it hasn't been updated since 2021, and won't be updated anymore. ✦ This project is not my main focus as I'm a full time university student. My goal is to release the demo before 2024 ends, though. ✦ I haven't decided which platform to use for the demo yet, but rest assured that writing is as consistent as it can be despite my busy schedule. I haven't had the chance to learn how to use Twine yet, so I'm either planning to look for a collaborator who can code in Twine or stick with choicescript first until I get to learn how to use Twine. ✦ I will be posting character profiles for the ROs, though there are no set dates yet. This is to give way for a more detailed description for their personality and physical appearance.
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darnell-la · 4 months ago
Note
how about dark!logan and ex-girlfriend human reader. They broke up bcs she thought he was cheating on her, but turns out it was just misunderstanding and now dark!logan gets jealous that she already moved on from her
note: this story was an emotional roller coaster, but that’s how we like it. we love a bit of chaos and overreaction.
in this story, Logan is pretty emotional whether that’s him being sad at first or turning into a wild animal once he gets y/n back. of course, his jealousy is mentioned when he FUCKS y/n. he HATED how close she was to a man while he was being ignored.
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!
———
“We’re done, Logan, and that’s that,” Y/n said before she walked away from the man. “Y/n! — Hey!” The man stalked after her, confused about where this attitude came from.
“You’re not going to just break up with me, and walk away without an explanation!” The man said as he sped in front of her to stop her in her tracks.
“You get no explanation, just like I didn’t. I’ve been confused, hurt, upset, and left for months! You can deal with it for the rest of your life,”
That was the last time y/n had talked to Logan. The young woman packed her stuff at night so she wouldn’t cause a scene, and left.
Y/n feels off about being here again. It’s been a year, and she hasn’t quite talked to anyone since then. Of course, Charles would speak to her through her thoughts, but at times, she shut him out.
Hank, Storm, and Jean try to invite her to parties or get-togethers, thinking she’d maybe come one day, but she never does. She was in a whole new state in those times.
Scott on the other hand messaged her every day he could. Apart from her thoughts he only wanted to get close to her, to get at Logan from past jealousy, but in actuality, he genuinely liked her company.
The man texted her every day, even called and somehow, she’d answer him. Scott felt special that out of everyone, she’d answer him.
Logan was the only one in the group that had no contact with y/n. She had blocked the man anytime a new number or social media account popped up. He was desperate, and she hated it. She hated him.
“Charles said you were coming. Didn’t believe it until now,” Scott said as he walked out of the mansion, instantly picking y/n up into a hug. “Did you get stronger?” Y/n laughed after the man placed her down. “You can say that,”
“Y/n!?” Storm shouted before her, Hank and Jean ran over to her, giving her a group hug. For a second, she felt bad for leaving them all behind, but after Logan, she had to go somewhere. She couldn’t stay around anymore.
“How long are you staying?” Hank asked as he grabbed her bags, as well as Scott's. “Maybe a night or two,” she replied making them all sigh. “Seriously!? You can’t leave us like that. Not again,” Jean spoke.
Y/n didn’t hate Jean, but when she looked at the woman, she felt pain. It wasn’t her fault that Logan couldn’t put aside his feelings.
“Maybe I’ll stay long,” Y/n said before walking into the mansion. Storm and Jean drifted off to finish whatever they were doing while Hank and Scott took her to her room. Her old room that she hadn’t really slept in since she used to be with Logan all the time.
“Logan will be here. He went out to get wood,” Hank said before he left. “You okay with being back? You never really told us why you did,” Scott spoke after y/n sat down on her bed.
“Oh, just some personal things going on. That’s it,” she said. “Heard you haven’t talked to Logan. Was he the reason why you left?” He asked as he sat next to the young lady. He knew it was, but didn’t know why.
“I don’t really feel like talking about it or him. I kinda don’t even wanna see him,” y/n said, making Scott chuckle. “I feel you on that, but Logan’s crushed. I hate the man, but I also hate to see a teammate distracted,”
Scott got up and walked towards her room door, ready to get back to what he was doing. “Think about it, because my motorcycle just pulled up,” Scott said before leaving.
Y/n sighed, knowing Logan was going to make his way straight up here. She didn’t know how he’d react. She didn’t know how she’d react. What will she possibly do or say?
Y/n said in silence for only a couple of minutes before her door opened. He had pushed it open, not believing she was here until he saw her.
“Y/n,” he said before rushing over to her. The man dropped to his knees and hugged the girl tightly. His face hurried into her stomach as tears streamed down his face. She was really here.
“Logan,” y/n softly pushed at his shoulders, but he wouldn’t let go. He didn’t want to. It’s been a year, and he’s traveled to so many places, hoping to find her, but she was never there.
“Lo,” she spoke again, and this time, he pulled away. His hands rose to her face and cupped both of her cheeks. “I-It’s been so long,” the man looked into her eyes, making her feel like shit.
The man who couldn’t give her any attention gave it to her a year later. How dare he make her feel like this?
“Yeah — It has,” she softly pulled his hands away from his wrist. The man’s face changed from, I’m so happy you’re finally here, too, what’s going on? She’s never been this way towards him until that night. The last night he saw her.
“I’m kinda tired, so, yeah,” she spoke, wanting him away from her and out of her sight. “D-Don’t go to sleep without me, lemme get a shower in then I’ll-“ he stood up and walked towards the door, but the woman cut him off. “No,” she said with a stern voice.
“I like being alone,” she added. The man looked back at her, confused about why his girlfriend was acting this way. “Baby, what’s up with you? I-I thought that maybe since you came back, fixed whatever was going on with you,” Logan said in a soft voice.
“Whatever what going on with me!? God, Logan — Please, the fuck out,” y/n rolled her eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t mean it like-“ he tried explaining himself. “I said get the fuck out!” She yelled at the man.
Logan’s body jumped slightly, shocked at the way she was being. He didn’t know what was wrong, and she refused to tell him. It’s been a year, and she still hasn’t told him.
Logan opened his mouth, but the girl turned around and tucked herself under her covers. She was done seeing him for tonight. For the rest of the time she planned to stay here.
“Been a while since you’ve partied with us. Kinda missed that,” Scott said after he took a shot with y/n. “Yeah — I kind of missed it too,” she admitted with a smile. “Wanna dance?” The man asked in a friendly way, and she accepted.
The two went on the dance floor, dancing wide by wide for a while until he grabbed her hips. They both laughed with each other, having the most fun she’s had in a year.
“God, I’ve missed you, y/n. Texting and calling ain’t enough, you know? Maybe you should come visit me or I’ll come visit you,” he suggested. “I’ll think about it,” she smiled.
As Scott and y/n hugged it out on the floor, Logan couldn’t help but stop it. The man pushed off of the tree he was leaning back on in the distance and sped over to the two.
The man was close, about to ruin whatever the fuck they had going on, but y/n pulled away and said something to the man before she left.
Logan stopped in his tracks and watched her walk off to the side of the party. She got on her phone and began texting.
“Might stay with family for another night. I’ll be back to work soon,”
“So — How’s your night going?” Logan asked, making y/n turn around as she placed her phone in her pocket. Looking at the man in front of him felt different. When she first got here, the man looked warm out.
He had grown the beard but didn’t take care of it, his face looked dirty like he hadn’t washed it, his eyes were baggy, and she swore his body looked less fit, but not too much. Only she’d notice it…
“Can you not just fuck off? For once, Logan! Fuck!” Y/n shouted at the man who came up to her with two cups. He noticed she’d been drinking for the past few days, and even though he hated it when she did, he still brought one of the lighter drinks to maybe get close to her.
“But why? You won’t talk to me. You won’t even look at me. I-I don’t understand, y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as he walked after y/n through the woods. “I’m goin’ to bed. Gotta leave early tomorrow,” the woman had instantly changed her mind about staying.
“W-What!?” Logan basically screamed. She hadn’t even been here for a week. She hadn’t spoken to him unless she yelled at him. She was going to leave him. Again.
“Y/n, stop it!” The man shouted as he threw the two cups to the ground and ran in front of her to stop her in her tracks. Last time, that didn’t stop her from leaving, but he’ll make sure it does this time.
“Logan — Get the fuck out of my way,” she said as she moved to the side, but before she could go any further, he grabbed her arm tightly. The man slowly grew angry, but still had all that sad emotion running through his heart.
“N-No — I-I’m not gonna let you talk to Storm, talk to Jean, talk to Hank a-and dance on Scott and leave without talking to me!” The man’s eyes teared up again.
“Well, I don’t wanna talk to you, so,” y/n went to pull away, but he tightened his grip. She was human, and he knew that grip would hurt, but he couldn’t let her go again. Not without an explanation, and even if she gave a damn good one, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight again.
“Logan, ow!” She shouted at the man, now slapping his arm. “Stop it — Stop it, y/n!” He yelled in her face, letting a deep growl escape his mouth.
“Y-You’re not leaving! — I-I’m not letting you go again, so, like— So what if you hate me now? So what i-if you don’t wanna date me anymore? Y-You don’t have to leave though,”
“Logan-“ y/n tried saying. “No! You’re not gonna fuckin’ talk to Scott, and not me!” The man finally let her arm go with a push. The look on his face made sure she knew he was angry, but all she could do was roll her eyes.
“You’re a dick, you know? All you care about is me talking to Scott, but nothing else. What about what you did, huh? What about what you did!” Y/n grew angry. “You won’t tell me what I did!” Logan shouted.
“Because you should already know! Why do I have to tell my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend that giving another woman more attention than me, is a problem!? Why!? That’s not my place to if you’re a real man, and clearly — You’re not!”
Y/n nudged Logan’s shoulder as she walked by, but instantly got grabbed and pushed against a tree. The man held her upper arm, not letting her go anywhere.
“What the fuck are you talking about, babe? Ian never gives no other woman my attention. Not one! I-I’ve only thought about you for the past year!”
“Oh, is that true? Then why before I finally dumped your ass, Hank blabbered to me that you and Jean, your ex-kissing toy, by the way, were going on a secret mission?” Y/n finally asked.
“Oh, oh- And tell me why he also said that you choose to go on mission with her, instead of me. Tell me that! Tell me why you can’t tell me that you’re going on missions with your ex!” Y/n yelled in the man’s face with no tears in her eyes. Just full of anger.
“Baby, I — Baby, Hank wasn’t supposed to tell you-“ Logan went to say, but y/n cut him off with a wild scream as she shook her whole body. She was furious and wanted him out of her face.
“Of course, he wasn’t, you dumb bitch! Because you’re a cheating son of a bitch! A fuckin’ dumb, damn good-looking, manipulative cheater!”
“Baby, no, no- That’s not what I am. You never even asked me what was going on, you just-“ he got cut off again. “I left! I fucking left because I have no business being with a manwhore who can’t keep his dick in his beer-printed dollar tree boxers!”
Logan softly pulled y/n off of the tree and slamming her back to shut her up. “God, y/n, what the fuck — You-You can’t even let me get a sentence out without disrespecting or interrupting me,” he said. “I thought you loved those boxers,”
Y/n chuckled to herself as a tear finally slipped from her eye. “I did — That was before you decided to throw that all away,” the way she looked at him with no type of love in her eyes, broke his heart. And she had her story all wrong.
“If I wasn’t enough, why couldn’t you just tell me? Let me go and let me live my life instead of thinking someone actually loved me. Y-You say you’re not like any human I’ve dated, but you’re are. You’re like them all,”
“Hey!” Logan’s hands gripped around y/n’s neck, upset at her words. “Don’t fuckin’ disrespect me like that — Especially since you got your story all flipped and fucked up,” the man still had cracks in his voice. He was left for a year, all because of caring for y/n.
“I wasn’t fucking cheating on you. Those secret missions were days I’d leave with Jean and Storm which I bet he forgot to mention because he didn’t know you’d react like that — to go find me and you a new home to live in,”
“For months I’ve been trying to find a nice house away from people because I know how much you like being alone. I just needed woman’s help because I suck when it comes to that shit,”
Y/n’s heart rate began to slow down, and her eyes softened at his side of the story. She couldn’t think about what she’d done and caused, but she knew it was bad when her head felt light.
“As for the picking Jean to go on missions? That was shitty of me, but my excuse is that I didn’t want my girlfriend fighting fights she didn’t have to,”
“What the fuck so I look like having you come fight mutants when you’re not a mutant? Jean is one of the strongest mutants, so I chose her. Storm has to teach the kids, Hank never leaves the lab, and god knows Ian pickin’ Scott,”
“And y/n — You’re a teacher too, so why the fuck would I pull you away from what you love doing just to fight and risk your life? I rather thee others do that, then you, Bub,”
Y/n hasn’t heard that nickname in a year. Bub. She missed and, and he knew how much he missed it when she instantly began crying.
“Hey, hey,” Logan lifted the girl back to her feet after her legs gave out on her. “I’m sorry!” She cried out, fully knowing the situation, and understanding how shitty she is for leaving without asking.
“I-I thought I was helping myself, but I wasn’t! I-I hurt you and the others a-and I’m just a bad person!” She sobbed into his chest.
“Baby, no. Don’t think that way about yourself. I understand how you thought about what you did, baby. Don’t push yourself down for that,” the man pulled her head back and rubbed her tears away.
“Just make it up by staying. All that pain I felt of you ignoring me and being away from my arms are all gone away, you know why? Because you’re here right now. In front of my face looking as beautiful as you were last year,”
“I’m just so sorry, Logan,” Y/n looked down, but the man quickly lifted her chin back up. “Nah uh — we’re not feeling like this anymore. I have a lot to make up for,” the man rubbed the girl's bottom lip, happy that she was finally with him again.
“Gonna look back into those homes, and get ‘em ready for us, baby,” Logan used his free hand to trace down her body until he gripped her waist. “And then you’ll never be able to leave me again. Gonna be just us. No one else,”
Logan's lips finally touched hers, making his heart rate rise. It’s been so long, and his lips are finally back on his girl. His future.
Y/n lazily kissed back, tears still running down her cheek. The girl pulled back a few times to catch her breath, but Logan would instantly reattach their lips. He needed to taste her forever.
“C’mon, stop movin, baby,” Logan hungrily sucked on her lips, even slipping his tongue in her mouth to feel her inner cheeks. “Please, baby,” the man spoke, but y/n couldn’t grow that instant energy. She was still human.
“Baby,” Logan pulled back and looked down at his girlfriend. “Don’t fuckin’ make me wait any longer. I need you, so please fuckin’ stay still,” he demanded before leaning to go back in, but she stopped him by placing her hands on his chest.
“Give me a second, babe — Please,” she looked up at the man, but he couldn’t. “You didn’t give Scott a second,” the man said in a stern voice. “What!? — Baby, I’ve never kissed him,” she assured.
“Well, you were close. Too close, and you know how I feel about him,” Logan’s hands gripped both sides of y/n’s waist, digging his nails into the pretty little dress she wore for the night.
“You were mad at me and went straight to Scott. You fuckin’ knew that would piss me off,” y/n pushed at her taken-back boyfriend, trying to get his grip to loosen, but it never did.
“Yeah, I’ve been sad, baby. So fuckin’ sad, but the only thing I could think about was showing you who the fuck you talked to that night,” the man thought back to the day she left him.
“I heard them talk about being in touch with you — Every day y/n? Really? Textin’ that son of a bitch every day, but can’t shoot me a lil like on my message!?” Logan finally pulled his hands off of y/n’s waist, taking her dress with him.
“Logan!” The girl shouted in shock as she held the breeze on her. “Got me so fuckin’ angry, Bub. I can’t control it. Can’t get out of my head the days you’ve been away from me. The days you text him, and not me,” Logan had sniffed y/n’s neck.
“At least I don’t smell a new man on you. You know what I would’ve done if I did, baby?” The man asked, lips pressed against the girl's neck. “The same shit I’m about to do to you for humping Scott,”
Logan quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his thick blue jeans down. Y/n opened her mouth to calm the man down, but she didn’t want to. She deserved this. He needed to get his anger out.
Y/n went to jump, but before she did, the man pulled her up himself, quickly pulling her down on his cock until every inch of him was covered.
“L-Lo!” The girl moaned loudly as her feet curled. “Augh, yes!Still fuckin’ tight,” Logan pressed y/n further into the tree as he bucked his hips upward, making sure to bruise her cervix.
The growls he let out on her ear and on her neck, made her heart raise. It was hot, but she was slightly afraid. He was going to break up, but there was nothing she could do about it. She deserved this.
“Don’t ever fuckin’ leave me again. Pretty little sluts like you are in men’s minds all the time. You need me around. Need me to keep you safe and away from them. Even Scott! — If I ever fuckin’ catch you guys eye fuckin’ again — I’ll fuck you in front of him. Make sure he knows how good this pussy’s molded for my cock,”
Logan’s sad emotions were no longer here. The man was full of anger. His girl left him over some stupid-ass miss understanding and then she almost left again after having a sweet ole dance with Scott. Oh — he wasn’t letting this go soon. Not at all.
“I bet when you spoke to him before you left, you told him to come meet you in your room. Such a fuckin’ slut. I knew you had something for that four eyed freak,” Logan’s hips snapped up against y/n’s thighs. She could barely breathe.
“I-I did no such thing,” y/n struggled to get out. “Sure you didn’t. You know you’re a pretty little thing, right? You know you can get whoever you want, and I know you wanted him. I just know it,” Logan’s mind went crazy. The jealousy showed in the man, and he didn’t care.
Logan was nothing like y/n. She left when she thought he cheated, but Logan could never. He’d hold her closer. Lock her up somewhere so she can’t do it again, then kill the guy she cheated on him with. She belonged to him, and him only.
One of Logan’s hands reached up and gripped her neck as he looked into her eyes. His eyes were dark and hers were soft and could barely stay open.
“Ima take you back to your room, and if he knocks and comes in, the sight he’ll see will be buried into his mind just like my cock in that pretty little hole you haven’t let me fuck yet,”
That threat made y/n’s cunt clench. In the back of her mind, she had wished Scott would come to her room for something so Logan could fuck her ass. She was so wet, and that leaked down the crack of her ass, making her feel like she could take him so easily.
“P-Please,” the girl begged, making the man that was fucking her into the tree, chuckle. “Slut likes being fucked in the ass? Bet it’s a virgin ass, and you’re just a dirty little whore,” Logan guessed right.
“So fuckin’ dirty — Came back to ignore me, and now I’m balls deep in your pussy — My pussy — My fuckin’ pussy, baby,” Logan twitched in the grips walls, making her close. She hasn’t felt his seed in months. She needed it.
“S-Such a dirty w-whore, Logan,” y/n admitted in a low and whiny voice. All the crying and hate she had towards the man had faded away. She loved him and never stopped. She just needed a reminder that she could never leave him. Even if she tried, like she did.
“That’s it, baby — My dirty little whore — Fuck,” Logan used a hand to grab the side of her face and pull her into a rough and sloppy kiss. She’s always tasted so damn good.
Both of them moaned in each other's mouths, sweating, breathing heavily, and feeling their climax near. They needed to cum. They needed to few each other cum.
Before they knew it, the woods filled with their moans and groans. The wet sloppy sound of Logan’s cock slipping in and out of her heat could be heard as well.
Anyone who walked by in the distance definitely heard the two, but who cared at this point? All that would do is make Logan feel better because at least then they’d go off and tell people that she really does belong to him.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” the man growled, lips all over hers as he breathed into her mouth. “So fuckin’ full of me, Bub. All filled up and up to date,” the man chuckled with a smile. He missed it. He missed her.
“T-Thank you, baby,” Y/n said low, feeling her vision slowly slip away, but she knew she would be taken care of. She was with Logan again, and he would do anything to make sure she knew she was safe and set for life.
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qwimblenorrisstan · 4 months ago
Text
To Be Known | Azriel x Reader
Summary: You’ve always been afraid to confess to Azriel about your feelings for him, but after a hookup gone wrong, everything begins falling apart, and he’s there to pick up the pieces.
Word Count: ~ 2.4k
Warnings: Drunk ppl, drunk fem reader, allusions to smut, std mentions, bloodwork (doctors), guy being an ahole + taking advantage of drunk reader, scars, angst to comfort
A/N: this request was so good (ty to anon!!), I feel like az always pairs really good with angst to comfort, anyways hope you enjoy<3 (also sorry for lack of posts recently I just had a math+science test back to back and have spent the past few days studying😭)
Requests are open!
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Unlike the rest of your friend group, you weren’t special.
You weren’t a High Lord, Spymaster, General, High Lady, Seer, or any special title. You weren’t funny like Mor, witty like Amren, or even talented in much like all of your friends were.
But then again, like your mother had said, opposites always attract.
Maybe that was why had always had a small crush on the Spymaster who was withdrawn and secretive, the opposite of your friendly personality. You could befriend just about anyone, knowing their name, age, and at least a few background details on them in a few minutes, while Azriel was the exact opposite, getting his information on people through other ways.
With his job and his centuries of experience for two different High Lords, it was a wonder he didn’t already know about your crush on him. Maybe it was because, like everyone else, he was focused on the central characters in your friend group.
The three sisters and brothers. It was hard to overlook them, with all their achievements and accomplishments, not to mention the things they’d overcome and their pasts.
Tonight you were all out at Rita’s, Cassian telling awful jokes to Nesta as she rolled her eyes, playfully swatting him on the shoulder, Rhys and Feyre having a drinking competition, Azriel brooding somewhere in the corner, alone because of Elain visiting Autumn Court with Mor for “political purposes” even though everyone knew she wanted to see Lucien.
You were taking a sip of your drink, idly standing at the bar, elbows propped on the table as your eyes raked through the crowd, searching for someone who could offer a decent hookup. Drunk Fae stumbled about, laughing loudly with genuine joy that made your lips twitch up a bit, the music playing in the background also helping your mood as a cool breeze blew through the open area.
“Looking for someone?”
You choked on your drink, alcohol coming back up to sting your throat a second time before you swallowed it all backdown, one hand over your heart as you sighed in relief, looking at Azriel who’d somehow approached without you knowing.
“Mother above, Az, you scared the shit outta me.”
You replied, taking a few more breaths to calm down, turning to face him, back now against the bar table as the shadowsinger looked down at you, hair falling into his eyes in a boyish way that made you giggle as you tried to brush some behind his hair.
“Someone needs a haircut,”
You teased, and a hint of a smile graced his lips.
“I’ll make sure not to go to Mor this time.”
He said, grimacing for a moment at the memory of the awful haircut Mor had given him, insisting he needed it, only to butcher his beautiful dark locks. You could still remember how distraught he’d been after, looking like a puppy that had just been kicked.
“I could do it, my mom used to cut hair, taught me a thing or two,”
You offered with a little shrug, taking another sip of your drink, one you’d already refilled by now. Maybe twice. You couldn’t remember, all you knew was that the hangover in the morning would be brutal.
A chuckle from Azriel made you rub your thighs together as he shook his head in fond exasperation. He swallowed, almost nervously, odd for him, before speaking.
“Maybe next time, though I wouldn’t object if you-“
He was cut short by another male strolling up to you a tad bit too confidently, one arm going to the right of you on the bar table as his eyes met yours.
An old partner. Particularly a fuck-buddy.
The best solution for tonight, really, since Cauldron knows you weren’t bold enough to push anything with Azriel. He was a friend, nothing more, or at least you tried to convince yourself. He still hadn’t gotten over Elain, or you thought he hadn’t yet, and you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship or making things awkward between the two of you because of your desires the the crush you’d kept secret for years.
Your fuck-buddy’s eyes met yours, and you swallowed, glancing at Azriel as he watched the silent interaction the two of you had before giving a terse nod and walking away. You would’ve noticed how his eyes narrowed, or how he looked stiff if you hadn’t taken a few too many sips between talking with those at Rita’s tonight.
“Want to take this back to my place?”
The male drawled, arm sliding around your waist as he began guiding you to the exit around the side, where people could discreetly leave. Neither of you was beating around the bush, and you rarely did anyway. You both just needed a release, or at least you did.
“Mm..sure.”
You murmured, body hot now, thinking about Azriel instead of the male leading you to his old home, wishing it was Azriel’s hands on you, wishing you knew what it felt like to know him more, deeper than just the tip of the iceberg you’d touched.
~
Weeks had passed since that night, you’d woken up cold and alone in the male’s bed, gotten up, and collected your clothes before walking your ass back to the townhouse while your head had felt like someone split it open.
You had vowed not to go drinking for a while now.
And things had gotten weird between you and Azriel Joe, too. He was avoiding you, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, you could tell.
When he heard your footsteps, he left the room almost immediately, hell, even his shadows were avoiding you, not following you like loyal dogs per usual, just one or two to make sure you were safe at all times like he did for every member of the Inner Circle. His jaw was clenched every time he was in a room with you, and he wouldn’t look you in the eye, maybe couldn’t.
You barely remembered what had happened that night other than a few blurry memories of conversations and whatnot; so you didn’t know if you’d said something stupid and messed it up, or he thought you were a whore for going out with that other male and leaving him all alone.
The more you thought about it, the more you thought the latter was more likely.
It didn’t help that just a few days later, amidst all your worries, you’d decided to take a little walk through Velaris to get some outside time and a serotonin boost, only for the exact opposite to happen when you were met with your previous fuck-buddy from that night weeks ago screaming in your face, yanking you down a small alleyway to properly yell at you.
“Nasty bitch, gave me a disease! If you’re going to be a whore, at least keep your fucking viruses to yourself-!”
Horror shot through you at his words. You didn’t have any sort of STD, not that you knew of at least, and if you’d spread the theoretical disease to him…He might be an asshole, but no one deserves that.
Unsure what to do as tears welled in your eyes and fell, you began trying to ignore him as you turned and dashed out of the alleyway, the loose clothing you were wearing helping you to slightly outpace him through the streets, avoiding the children and Fae on them, not to mention the vendors and toys strewn about.
He pursued you, screaming still, and hot tears of embarrassment pouring down your cheeks as you began to sob, you didn’t even realize you’d outrun him until you were already at the steps to the House of Wind, ascending them, not even bothering to count out the 10,000 steps in your head.
Somehow, through either pure anger or sadness, you reached the top right when your knees gave out, only for Nesta to catch you right before you fell, dressed in her training leathers, weapons strapped to her. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion and already-building anger as she saw you crying your eyes out.
“What’s wrong?”
She demanded, shifting to hold you up fully, carrying you bridal style as she started walking into the House, snapping her fingers once she got inside, and the House listened to her as always, making a warm cup of tea in your favorite flavor, and a comfort meal she knew you loved as she slowly sat you down at the table. The House must’ve deemed it necessary when it added a cushion beneath your butt on the chair, considering your aching legs.
You tried to blubber out an answer amidst the tears, but couldn’t manage to, and her eyes softened as she sighed, sitting down next to you on your right, before seeing that she wasn’t making much progress, and getting back up.
“Eat, we can talk about this later, I’ll go get him.”
You were about to ask who she was going to get, even though a part of you already knew as you saw her walking off in the direction of his room. You began slowly digging into the food, finding yourself to be much hungrier than earlier anticipated. Then again, you’d skipped out on breakfast, expecting to get a big lunch while out and about in Velaris.
Azriel arrived only a moment later, shadows swirling, concern evident on his face as Nesta gave him a stern look and pointed to you before she mouthed “You’re welcome.” to you, and strolled out of the door.
“What happened?”
He asked, smooth voice soaked in worry as he quickly pulled out the same chair Nesta had just been sitting in, sitting in it as it groaned under his weight. One of his wings stretched out in your direction, just barely curling around you.
You swallowed a bite of your food, tears coming back up.
“It’s embarrassing.”
You managed to croak out, and he shook his head.
“I won’t make fun of you, I promise.”
He pledged, and you trusted that promise as you sniffled again, wiping the wetness from your eyes with one hand.
“Me and that male from Rita’s, we slept together, and he just accused me of…of giving him an STD.”
You said, before breaking into sobs again, hands going to cover your face despite the warmth that burned in your cheeks from the shame of being in this situation. His large palm gently brushed over your back as he scooted closer, raising an eyebrow at the cushion in your seat for half a second before his wing curled fully around you; and he pulled you into a surprisingly warm hug.
“I’m sorry.”
He murmured, and your sobs slowly subsided until you had no tears left to cry, but you still held onto him in the hug, hands fisting the back of his shirt, the cloth bunching up beneath your fingers.
“What if I do, though? Have a..virus?”
He gave a little hum of thought.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, do you want to go get tested?”
You gave a sad little nod, a small pout on your lips that made him want to rip apart the male that made you feel this way. He gently picked you up, careful with your sore legs, figuring out what had happened rather quickly after some of his shadows informed him what they’d seen. They also quickly informed him on the full story, and what that male had done. Another job for another day, but he would make sure he paid for it.
Nearly two hours later, you’d had to pee in a cup for Madja to check, and now were getting blood taken to get that tested as well, as well as any other necessary bodily fluids. Symptoms were noted if there were any. It was uncomfortable at best, but Azriel held your hand the entire time, not even wincing when you squeezed his hand a bit too hard for all the scars covering it.
He quickly winnowed the both of you to the House of Wind afterward, having been told the results would take at least a day to get back. He winnowed the both of you straight into his room.
It was dark, curtains drawn and everything, with the barest essentials in it as well as a desk for work, a few maps hanging from the walls, and assortments of fancy knives you knew he must’ve collected over the centuries.
You turned to leave, but his hand grasping your wrist quickly made you turn, tilting your head sideways in mild confusion.
“Stay.”
He begged, looking terrified of what you might say, but also hopeful. You sniffled again, nodding and tentatively following him as he gently led you over to the bed, each move like a new dance, one that neither of you had practiced before, but were willing to try.
He slowly stripped his leathers off, letting you see his scarred body and wings for what it truly was. And for once, the sight of his bare body, while very attractive, didn’t just make you horny or craving him. It made you appreciate him, who he was at his core. The years he’d spent training and honing his body to protect his Court, the scars he’d suffered protecting his loved ones and serving them; even willing to take it to the end.
You appreciated him. Even in the bad lighting of the room, or the thick shadows swirling everywhere, you appreciated Azriel.
And so, in turn, you began slowly tugging your clothes off, leaving only your undergarments on. His eyes ran over you, respectfully as always, but taking in your vulnerability; who you were beneath the covers, before he gave a small nod.
He walked over to his dresser, pulled out one of his more casual shirts; one that was clean that he hadn’t worn in a good while, and walked over to you, standing in front of you as he helped gently tug the opening over your head, guiding your hands to the arm holes, adjusting it for you.
No words were exchanged, and none needed to be, not ad you both crawled into his bed under the blankets, and he enveloped you in an embrace; wings and arms wrapped around you with his head tucked into your neck.
And tonight, you knew for sure that you wouldn’t wake up cold and alone like that night so many weeks ago.
No, tonight, you didn’t need the warmth of passion or lust to keep you from the biting cold, now you had Azriel by your side, and that was more than enough.
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hyukalyptus · 6 months ago
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or else what? —hueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!
cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K
“Why are you being nice to him?” You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, you’re the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humility—it all screams fake to you.
You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how you’re always pointing out when he’s wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friends��not everyone in every friend group has to get along, right? 
“Nice to see you too.”
“Someone separate them please?” Soobin asks. “I can’t deal with another argument right now.” He rubs his temple out of caution.
Everyone’s over for a game night—Soobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, they’re off, but definitely still friendly. 
“How about some Smash Bros?”
“No,” you say to Kai. “Mario Kart.” 
“River and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.”
“Not my problem.”
“How about we take a vote?” He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as you’re the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, it’s still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins. 
“Maybe you should stop pouting,” Sage says, nudging your shoulder. “Beat him in the next round. You know you’re better than anyone here.” You take the opportunity to easily—and quickly—beat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now it’s his turn to pout while he grabs a snack. 
Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the group’s annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you. 
The reason behind the initial argument is long forgotten—you’re seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyone’s keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear. 
“It looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” River points out. “We should probably set up camp.” Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite. 
“What do you think about this spot over here, Sage?” You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Don’t tell me.” You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. “You’re back together?” You ask quietly.
“Please don’t be mad,” they say. “It’s going really well this time.” 
“I didn’t bring another tent.” 
“Kai’s tent is huge,” Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if they’re making a suggestion to him. “Can she stay with you?” 
“I thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.” 
“I was gonna stay in Sage’s,” Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each other’s eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyone’s desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River won’t budge. Sage’s pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agrees—
“Fine,” Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. “You gotta finish setting it up though. I’m gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,” he says, leaving you with an impossible task. There’s a reason you didn’t bring your own tent.
Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, it’s even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kai’s making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesn’t have a dry tent to walk into. 
“Do you not know how to put a tent up?”
“No, actually I don’t.”
“I could’ve set up three tents by now,” he says, but doesn’t have time to be much madder—he’s gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It would’ve been quicker if he didn’t have to work in the rain. 
Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesn’t help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one. 
“Ah, that was my last t-shirt.”
“I’m sorry. I tried—”
“I don’t care,” he stops you, holding his hand up.
Falling silent, you change the subject, “What took you so long anyway?”
“I was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,” he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie before bed?” 
“No.” You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Watching a movie.” 
“Turn it off.” 
“I didn’t ask for permission to watch it,” he points out. “I asked if you wanted to join me.”
“Isn’t it gonna bother the other campers?”
“Doubt they can hear it.”
Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.
“What are you doing? You asshole—” he snaps, glaring at you. 
“Me? You’re the ass for not letting me sleep,” you fire back, narrowing your eyes. 
“I wasn’t supposed to have you in here anyway,” he mutters. 
“I’m not an asshole,” you say defensively.
“Yes, you are,” he spits. “You always have to have it your way.”
“I’m not having this argument with you,” you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.
He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.
“I can't believe you. You're so annoying,” he says. 
You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.
Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, “Where did you get those?”
“My car,” you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but it’s not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. “Can I help you?” You ask without opening them.
“Aren’t you gonna share those with me?”
“Why would I?”
“You’re the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.” 
“Not my fault you didn’t bring back-up.”
He exasperates, clearly done with you and all your…what does he call it? Selfish nonsense? “I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and won’t even share the dry blankets with me?” 
“You think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. “I don’t even like camping but I come along with Sage because they’re my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I don’t know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? You’re never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? You’re always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know you’re just—”
Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, “Would you please just shut up?” 
Seeing him this mad…you don’t know if he’s ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention he’s still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his body—you’ve never seen him before—and you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly. 
You smirk at him before saying, “Make me." Looking over your face, he doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he can’t help it. 
Crashing his lips into yours, you’re taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off. 
“What the hell are you doing?” 
“I don’t–I don’t know, I, uh…” He stutters, trying to find something—anything—to say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now. 
You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, but—
“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening? You and I are making out?” He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow. 
“Well, not anymore.” You look at him confused. “Did you forget you’re the one that kissed me first?”
“That was just so you’d shut up.”
“Don’t act like you don’t want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.” You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. “...Is that why you’re such an ass to me? Because you’re sexually frustrated whenever you’re around me? Do you…like me?”
“No,” he says defensively. “I hate you actually. You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “But the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.” Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, “Is that why you’re such an ass to me?” Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. “It is, isn’t it?” You shake your head. “Say it.” 
“Kai.”
“I wanna hear you say you want me.”
The quickest, most disingenuous, “I want you,” comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? It’s not like you haven’t noticed how handsome he’d gotten recently, but it’s also not like you’ve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, “Now shut up and fuck me.” 
Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chest—full and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside. 
The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking. 
Mouths all over—his on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shoulders—it’s a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust. 
“I hate you,” you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure. 
“I hate you too,” he responds. “So much.” The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he says against your ear. “Don’t even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?”
“You’ve never been any help to me,” you respond. “Plus, we wouldn’t have gotten rained on so much if you didn’t get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Can’t even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,” you spit. “Except…you’re kind of a good kisser.”
“Wish I could say the same about you.”
“Don’t lie,” you smirk. “I’m an incredible kisser.” He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. “But you’re taking too long. Hurry up,” you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips and—
“You’re that wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.” You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.
“You’re already that hard and I’ve barely even touched you? Horny loser.” Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.
Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, “You never shut the fuck up, do you?” And he’s relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. “You don’t deserve to feel this good.”
“And you think you deserve this pussy?” You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, “A dumb fuck like you doesn’t deserve to even touch my skin.”
“Is that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?” He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. “Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself,” he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground. 
Suddenly, you’ve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, you’re in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it. 
Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you can’t help but reach up—you’re desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits. 
“Every time you try to touch me without permission, I’ll stop touching you,” he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. “Good girl.”
Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? That’s delicious. Heat rushes to your ears. 
“Please—”
“Ah,” he places his pointer finger over your lips. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. “You learn so fast, hm?” You smile—a genuine giddy smile. “So cute,” he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently. 
But when a weak little, “Fuck,” slips out of your mouth, he stops.
“Did I say you could speak?” You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and you’re being such a good girl for me. 
Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. You’re positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to you—touch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on that—not only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what he’s doing, you’ll give him that. 
Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy. 
“Aw,” he starts condescendingly. “Is my good little slut gonna come for me?” You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe it’s the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. “Say it.”
You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, “You’re gonna make me come, Kai.”
“Good girl.” He doesn’t change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does something…expected? Surprising? Honestly, you’re not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch. 
Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk you’ve hated for years making you cry over his cock? 
“That’s for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.” 
What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping he’ll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point. 
“Tell me you don’t deserve me.” You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like he’s proud of you before he says, “You may speak.” 
“I don’t deserve you.” He squeezes harder, almost like he’s saying that’s not enough. “I don’t deserve to feel this good. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t deserve…anything.” 
“Good girl.” He loosens his grip around your throat. He’s done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and he’s determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But he’s gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.
Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. 
Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway. 
“Kai…” you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. “You are gonna let me come, right?”
His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, “You think I should?”
“You better or I’ll…” You trail off.
“You’ll what?” He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. “What are you gonna do to me?”
Now what’s a good punishment for him? Clearly, he’s used to being the one punishing his sexual partners—you wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You don’t want to overpower him like you thought you did. There’s something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. You’re such a powerful woman everywhere else—the type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting. 
Letting someone take full control over you like this—it’s relaxing. You wonder how much he’s enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasn’t stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course he’s enjoying this. And bingo—you’ve got just enough control to get what you want. 
“I’ll never let you fuck me like this again.” 
Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”
Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you aren’t holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it. 
When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like you’re floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. You’re drunk, high on his cock and the only thing you’re seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips. 
“Talk to me,” he says breathlessly in your ear. But you can’t. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know you’re having an incredible orgasm. 
Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, “Fuck, that felt so good.” 
“Tell me how good.”
“You made me feel so…so fucking good, Kai,” you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? He’s actually pretty hot and he’s damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. “Why don’t you tell me how good I feel?”
“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says. “Your pussy might be the only thing I like about you.” He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. “Well, maybe your pussy and your tits.” Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin. 
“I need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.” 
“Keep talking to me like that.”
And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you don’t catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites. 
Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, “Damn. That was good.” Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk. 
“Listen,” you say, covering your chest with your blanket. “This can’t happen again.” His smile drops.
“What?”
“The fact that we did that,” you gesture between the two of you, “never leaves this tent, you hear me?” Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. “No one can find out about this. God, I’d be so embarrassed. Let’s just…get some sleep.” 
Did you forget about what he said?
Or I’ll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didn’t let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, there’s too much on his mind. 
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