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#people who don’t know what i look like want to be my friends
moonchildstyles · 3 days
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would Élan!Harry ever get jealous with (Y/N)? Seeing as to how they don't make their relationship public (yet!), people would still definitely hit on her, so how would he deal with that?
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"One more?" 
Harry's lips grew into a lopsided smile at (Y/N)'s request. It would never lose its shine, would it? 
"One more, but I don't want to be the one in trouble for your lipstick this time," he conditioned with a raised brow. 
"Okay, fine," (Y/N) answered right away, waving his terms off with a fluttering hand, "Just one more before we have to go inside." 
Pressing his lips to her own perfectly painted pair, Harry was determined to keep it light and fleeting, knowing that there were cameras lurking just up ahead. It wouldn't be a good look for either of them to emerge from the back of this SUV with (Y/N)'s lipstick smeared and the remnants on Harry's own mouth. 
Of course, his determination hinged on just how well behaved (Y/N) was going to be. Which, as he'd learned through the course of their tabloid facade, wasn't something that happened often. It was her that deepened the kiss with a tip of her head, fitting his bottom lip between her two. 
How was he supposed to say no to that?
She knew he'd given in as soon as he felt the faint curl of her lips against his, a smug victory smile. 
Though, her victory didn't last much longer than that. 
The ever patient—and discreet—man he was, Sully knocked on the partition as a warning that they were quickly approaching the venue of the night's party. It was Harry who had to have the power to pull away first, leaving (Y/N) with a puffed pout and only slightly smudged lipstick. He didn't even want to think about how much of the red was now painted over his own mouth. 
"Don’t give me that look," he told her, swiping a thumb over a smudge just under her bottom lip. 
His command only garnered him a set of narrowed eyes to go along with her pout. "I don't even want to be here tonight, why can't we go home?" 
"Because," he said, canting his head as she did the same, "Y'told Francesca you'd be here tonight, and I know y'wouldn't leave her by herself." 
"She'll make friends," she huffed, though Harry knew he'd won her over as soon as she turned away in search of the compact in her purse. 
"It's gonna be alright, darling," he told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she clicked open her mirrors and touched up her lipstick, "We'll go home early if y'really want." 
"I do really want," she petulantly mumbled, cleaning up the slight smudging outside of the line of her mouth. "H, you messed up my lipstick." 
That was enough to have him throwing his head back with a laugh.
By the time Sully had pulled up to the entrance of the high-rise the party was taking place at, (Y/N) had primed her appearance and put on her socialite facade. Harry had sat at her side, being her anchor as she centered herself and let the side of her personality that loved cameras and attention take over. 
"Ready?" he'd murmured once they pulled up to the entrance of the building.
She chirped out and Mh-hm a small smile on her lips. "Ready to be my bodyguard?"
"If y'can behave," he countered, sliding his arm off of her shoulders once he saw the first flashes of the camera aimed at the SUV. 
"We'll see," she smiled just before sliding down the leather seats and pushing the door open. 
Harry had no choice but to follow after her, shaking his head just before stepping out into the flashing lights with her. Schooling his features, he slipped on his own facade. Despite what the tabloids wrote and the blurry photos supposedly circulating online, when they stepped in public, Harry was her bodyguard. Especially when it comes to parties like this.
He'd be her lover later, he had to make sure she was safe first. 
The entrance wasn't packed with photographers, but there were still enough people for Harry to hover just behind her. He'd learned his lesson well while in Paris that summer—it didn't matter just how few paparazzi were following her, it only took one to push the limits. 
She kept her head down when the few waiting outside the event started talking to her, speaking over one another with calls of her name. None of them acted particularly invasive, speaking rudely to her or invading her space, especially seeing as there wasn't anything particularly scandalous circulating about her at the moment. Nonetheless, while (Y/N) politely smiled and kept her space, Harry was the intimidating presence behind her that reminded others just how important it was for them to keep their distance. 
Following as her quiet shadow, Harry kept his hands to himself as they were escorted to the penthouse floor for the party. If not for the attendant in the lift, he may have attempted to get one more touch of her skin against his, though he instead settled for a sidelong glance that had her lips tipping into a small smile. 
When the doors opened directly to the penthouse space, Harry tipped his head, gesturing for (Y/N) to go first. She thanked the attendant with a quiet thank you before she stepped into the fluttering party.
It was a decidedly more low-key event compared to the many that (Y/N) frequented, most of the attendants having spilled out towards the open air patio. The rest of the space was full of modern, minimalist decor. Walls were made of glass panelling, everything coming in different shades of cream and nude, manicured greenery being placed throughout the space in an attempt to make it look more lived in than it most likely was. Staff traipsed through the space with trays of hors d'oeuvres and flutes of bubbly alcohol. 
"Do you see Fran anywhere?" (Y/N) murmured, her fingers joining into a fumbling bundle at her middle. 
Continuing his scan over the crowd, Harry stuffed his own hands into his pockets to keep from plucking (Y/N)'s up in an attempt to soothe her. "Not yet. Do y'know if she's here yet?" 
"I don't know, she hasn't texted me since before we left." At that, (Y/N) pulled out her phone, most likely pulling up Francesca's shared location. Her expression fell at whatever she saw on her screen. "She hasn't even left her apartment yet." 
"That's alright," he told her, keeping his voice low, "She'll be here soon. Do y'want a drink?" 
Just as she opened her mouth to give an answer, (Y/N) was interrupted by a voice Harry didn’t recognize. Though plenty of strangers approached her while they were out and about, especially at events such as this, it still put him on edge. Peering around the perfect style of (Y/N)'s hair, he found a man with dark hair and grown in facial hair approaching her. He was inches shorter than Harry, but with the way the group he'd drifted away from admired him, he could have been seven feet tall. 
"Hi," (Y/N) politely answered. Harry didn't have to see her expression to be able to picture the neutral set to her mouth and the practiced light in her eyes. 
"Sorry," the man said, voice accented with lilting vowels and an undulating melody. His eyes never  strayed from (Y/N). "I don't mean to interrupt, I was just hoping I'd run into you while I was in the city. I'm Luca." 
"Oh, no worries," she answered, just as perfectly pleasant as always, "Nice to meet you." 
Harry watched on as she reached out a manicured hand for him to shake, only for Luca to bring her hand to his lips and press a kiss to her knuckle. 
His hands in his pockets clenched. 
This was the downside to keeping their relationship on the down low—everyone loved to assume she was available for the taking. 
"Nice to meet you as well," Luca drawled, looking at (Y/N) through a fan of dark lashes. It was with a sudden glance in his direction that Luca seemed to realize she hadn't been standing off by herself. "Excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Luca." 
With a clenched jaw, Harry offered his own greeting, reciprocating Luca's outstretched hand for no other reason than to ensure he wouldn't let it wander back towards (Y/N). 
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, voice a bit stifled as he assessed the man before him. 
"Are you—uh—a friend of (Y/N)'s?" Luca asked, taking a step back with his hand giving a slight flex before settling it into his pocket. The action had Harry's lips quirking into a small smile; it was entirely intentional just how tight his handshake was, but he would never admit that. 
"I'm her bodyguard." 
It was always with that statement that Harry had assessing eyes tracing over his form, taking stock of who he was as if his merits for his profession were painted on his clothing or tattooed on his arms. 
"I bet she keeps you busy then, this one," Luca attempted to tease as if he knew anything at all about he or (Y/N).
Before Harry could manage to snip out his own reply, (Y/N) took over. "Luca, have we met before? Sorry, if I've forgotten—I have the worst memory," she laughed, "You look familiar." 
That seemed to be just the question Luca had been waiting for, a dazzling smile settling on his features. "Ah, well," he started, suddenly—deceptively—bashful with his eyes dropping to his feet, "I am an F1 driver—for Ferrari, actually. You may have seen one of my races." 
Harry had to make a point to keep from rolling his eyes. 
"Oh wow," (Y/N) bubbled, perfect persona in place, "That's really cool! I have a friend who really enjoys that kind of thing, so maybe I've seen you on T.V." 
"Yeah?" he chirped, decidedly more willing to talk about his profession now that (Y/N) may be familiar with him, "I was just in Las Vegas for a race a couple of weeks ago. Have you ever been before?" 
Harry had to tune him out then, instead opting to look for Francesca through the new faces that had entered since being huddled in the corner with Luca The F1 Driver. Slipping into bodyguard mode, he only heard the polite mumblings of the conversation at his side, attempting to provide (Y/N) with as much privacy he could manage. 
"Right, H?" (Y/N) asked, suddenly pulling him back into the moment from where he'd zoned out pretending to look for Francesca. 
"Hm?" he hummed, blinking back into reality to find (Y/N) looking at him with Luca seemingly unimpressed with his inclusion. The thought had a lopsided smile touching at the corner of his lips. 
"We're going to be in Milan next month, right?" 
"Yes, from the ninth to the seventeenth. Why?" His question was aimed at Luca, forcing him to pay attention to him.
His smile looked especially pasted on this time when he matched Harry's attention. "I was just telling (Y/N) that I'll be racing again in Monza next month. Perhaps, you can catch the race while you're out there?" 
"Maybe," (Y/N) answered noncommittally, "I'd have to check in and see what we have planned, and Harry usually has to—" 
"No need to worry about that," Luca interjected, "I have a box you could spend the time in—I doubt you'll need any security up there." 
A tick appeared in Harry's jaw, hinging it tighter. To be fair, it wasn't the most blatant attempt to get him out of the way he'd ever heard before, but it was certainly an attempt. 
It was (Y/N) that had shrugged her shoulders, piping up first before Harry had a chance. "Oh, no," she waved Luca off with a polite smile, "Harry would be coming with me anyway."
At that, Harry could spot a small crack forming in Luca's facade. (Y/N) wasn't quite playing into whatever he had been hoping for when he meandered over to her. 
"You just let me know, then," Luca settled on, features schooled into perfection though he did stray a glance towards Harry. "Sorry, I'm being so rude—can I get you a drink, (Y/N)?" 
It took (Y/N) only a split second thought before she was jumping on the opportunity. "Yes, please, actually! Anything sweet works for me." 
When (Y/N) made a move to pull out her phone, her own quiet way of dismissing Luca to the bar, Harry had to keep his features from showing his amusement. She had casually turned to face Harry, giving her back to the bar Luca had disappeared to.
With her eyes still low, she murmured, "Is he far enough away?" 
"Mhm." 
Looking up at him with wide eyes, she whispered, "Oh my god, is he being annoying or am I just in a bad mood?" 
The exasperation in her tone was enough to have Harry letting out a chime of laughter. "No, he's definitely being annoying. Did y'really recognize him, or were y'jus' saying that?" 
"Kind of," she waved off, whatever app on her phone taking a backseat for the moment, "I half-watched a race one time with Toriana but that's it. I just wanted him to stop talking to you."
"Of course, Fran had to be late today, right?" Harry joked, sharing a small smile with her before noticing Luca on his way back with bubbling drinks in hand.
"Seriously," (Y/N) sighed before spinning on her heel to face Luca once more. "Thank you so much!" 
Now knowing how (Y/N) truly felt about her companion, Harry had to make a point to keep his amusement from touching his face when listening to the way she forced herself to pep up for him. It was interesting to him now, just how different it had been in the beginning, how difficult it had been for him to spot those differences in her personas—the split between who she truly was and who she hid behind. Now, all he needed to hear was the inflection of her voice, the arch of her spine, the gesticulating of her hands, and he could tell just where her comfort was sitting.
Luca's voice became a mumbling of monotone syllables to him, nothing to pay attention to as Harry observed the party and the patrons. He kept an ear out for (Y/N), ensuring she wasn't in need of him, though he had to make a point to keep from laughing at the sound of her faux-giggles between sips of sugary alcohol.  
Though he wasn't a fan of hearing others hit on his girlfriend, it was rather funny to hear just how clueless they were to her disinterest when it was so clear to his own ears. 
Of course, until Luca put his hands on her. 
It was slow, the way he'd grown closer to her after noticing Harry had averted his attention some. He took small steps, shifting his weight and leaning in as if he couldn't hear her over the low music playing. Once he deemed himself close enough, Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, his hand landing on the small of her back, sliding around to settle on the curve of her waist as if he wasn't clearly flinching away. 
A too loud laugh filtered from her mouth then, enough to have Harry's attention sharpening and pinning on the interaction. 
As casually as possible, (Y/N) attempted to step out of Luca's grip. Though it didn't appear that he caught the hint with the way he shifted towards her once more, closing the gap she'd opened. 
There was a moment, with the sight of his hand on her waist, fingertips dipping into the folds of her dress as they curled to the line of her body, that Harry wondered just how many grainy videos and opinionated essays would be posted if he stepped in and pushed Luca away. 
 He'd bet it would be more than either he or (Y/N) would care to see. 
It was when (Y/N) looked at him over her shoulder, a fleeting glance, one that could have easily been mistaken for a flip of her hair, that Harry stepped in. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, greedily pulling her away from Luca's grip. 
"Francesca's here," he murmured, voice just loud enough for Luca to clue into the fact that his time with (Y/N) was over.
Spinning to face him, (Y/N) looked to him with relief in her eyes. "Really?" she bubbled, glancing back at Luca for a moment though she was already heading into Harry's arms, "It was nice talking to you, Luca!" 
Harry almost wanted to gloat when he saw how Luca stuttered over himself, absently reaching out as (Y/N) slipped through his fingers. 
"Oh—Um—Let me know about Monza, yeah? I'd love to see you again before I leave the city, maybe tom—" 
"I'm really busy this week, but maybe! I'll see about Monza and have Harry reach out!" 
It was with that final remark, that (Y/N) began leading the charge away from Luca and the corner he'd huddled her into. Harry followed after her, shifting his arm until he had his palm on her bicep.
"Thank god," (Y/N) sighed once they were far enough away, "Did you hear him?" 
"I tried not to," Harry murmured, guiding her through the throngs of people, slowing when unfamiliar faces said greetings in passing, "What did he say?" 
(Y/N) shook her head. "I know more about his racing stats than I think I know about myself." 
Typical, Harry figured. Of course, once the veil was lifted, would Luca leave the shy act behind to boast about his job in hopes of impressing (Y/N).
"'M not surprised," he said, just before (Y/N) changed their course.
Instead of following the line of the bar and those gathered in the living area, she turned them towards a hallway branching off the main room. It was decidedly quieter than where the party was. 
"Do you think there's a bathroom down here?" (Y/N) muttered, scanning her eyes down the few doors lining the hall, "I want to hide for a second."
It was (Y/N)'s request—that she wanted to hide away after speaking to Luca—that had him trying his hand at his own exploration. Even if he didn't hide a restroom, he would find somewhere quiet for his girl to decompress. 
On a whim, he reached towards the handle of a passing door. Pushing it open, a pristine bathroom sat inside. Convenient. 
Gently pulling her over the threshold first, Harry made a point to take a look around, intending to catch if anyone had wandering eyes that had landed on them. Though he couldn't be sure no one had caught them stealing away together, at least no one was watching as they went into the bathroom together. 
Setting her drink on the counter, (Y/N) sat on the edge of an elaborate tub with a heaving sigh. Her shoulders settled down, sloping downwards as she looked up at the ceiling for a second. 
"I don't know if I've been that annoyed since Paris," she muttered, rolling her neck. 
A small smile settled on Harry's lips then. Leaning against the marbled countertop, he crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed at her. "Maybe we should've stayed home, hm?" 
"I told you so," she countered, looking to him with amusement in her eyes. "How much do you wanna bet that Fran hasn't even left the house yet?" 
He watched as she pulled out her phone from her purse, checking through whatever tabs she had open before he unfurled from where he was leaning against the counter. Crossing the pristine tiles under his feet, he crouched in front of where (Y/N) was huddled on the edge of the tub. 
Placing a hand carefully on the bone of her ankle, he whispered to her despite already being alone in the space. "Y'alright?" 
"Yeah," she sighed, slowing her tapping on her phone before she dropped her phone to rest on her lap, "He was just annoying—he wasn't, like... scaring me or anything." 
"Good, good," he murmured, stroking his thumb over the curve of her leg. 
"Are you okay?" she prodded, settling her hand on his cheek. 
Leaning into her touch without a second thought, he shuttered his eyes in a lingering blink. "'M okay. I don't know why, but it was hard to watch him—or listen to him." 
She tossed him a shrewd glance. "Yeah? You didn't like watching him ask me out?" 
He shook his head, cheeks stretching around his growing grin. "I didn't, actually. It actually made me a little angry. I wanted to punch him when he touched you." 
"Really?!" she bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I didn't think you could get jealous! You're always so calm!" 
"Was I jealous?" he prodded, tugging on her leg in a teasing pull, "Is that what happened?" 
"It sounds like it! You wanted to hit him?" she asked again, leaning towards him with a conspiratorial gleam to her eyes. 
"Maybe," he mused, "If he'd done anything to upset you, I might have. He was already annoying enough." 
There had to have been something in his answer that she enjoyed seeing as she pressed forward and sealed her mouth to his. He smiled into the contact for a moment, dimples in his cheeks before melting into her touch. Slotting his lips to hers, it was (Y/N) that deepened the kiss with a trace of her tongue over the pillows of his lips. 
The sounds of their lips parting and coming together filtered through the bathroom as Harry reached towards her hand on his face, wrapping his fingers around the fine bones of her wrist. It was when he scraped his teeth over the full of her bottom lip, a small nip, that she parted her crossed legs and drew him between her thighs. 
He was hyper aware of the party going on outside the door, and the fact that this was the apartment of someone he'd never met before, but at the same time Harry didn't care. 
If she liked seeing him jealous this much, he wasn't going to stop her. 
At the movement of her legs, her phone was tossed to the floor, landing on a bathmat at her feet. Neither had acknowledged the thump, until it started vibrating with a call. 
(Y/N) reluctantly pulled away with a sigh, resting her forehead on his. "It's Fran, isn't it?" 
"Probably," he muttered, blindly reaching for her phone before handing it off. 
Harry only had to see the way she pulled in a long breath, an affectionate roll of her eyes, before she pressed the device to her ear that told him their suspicions were right. 
"Hello?" she answered, drifting her hand from his cheek to card through her hair. 
Getting only one side of the conversation, Harry had to put the pieces together while watching the expressions that crossed her face. As far as he could tell, Francesca was especially amusing today. 
"Yes, we're here," (Y/N) continued, nodding along to whatever Fran was bubbling about. "Yes, me and Harry... No, she's not here—as far as I've seen anyway... When are you going to get here?.. We'll still be here; we're just in the bathroom right now." She paused just before a peal of laughter rang through the room, her nails grazing over his scalp. (The touch had a certain shiver streaking down his spine). "No! We're hiding from some F1 guy that keeps inviting us to some race next month... If you want, you can go instead. I don't know if he has a yacht, but I'm sure you could convince him." 
Gazing up at her from where he sat before her, Harry felt his own lips curving into a lopsided smile. He loved seeing her stripped down like this; she'd told him more than once that he was one of the only people he was able to vulnerable and herself around, but he'd seen just how young she was around Francesca. He could see glimpses of who she was before he'd met her, the girl who'd been around before cameras were documenting her every move. 
It had his heart rattling against his ribs. 
With his wandering head, Harry hadn't realized she'd ended her call until she hung up the phone and placed both of her hands on his cheeks. 
"Do you know how many times I've wished I could be in your head?" she told him, a small smile to her lips, "I just want to know what you're thinking—you're so hard to read." 
"'S you," he said, sincerity rivaling the lighthearted tone to her voice,"'S always you."
She looked at him with amusement in her eyes, the same way she always did when he said something adoring: as if she didn't believe him, instead waiting for the joke to land. 
He could do nothing other than surge forward and press his lips to hers. He'd always been better at showing than telling her how he felt. 
—————
thank u sm to whoever requested and for everyone who read to this point! so sorry for any mistakes, and please let me know if you have any fun ideas of your own:)
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theyluvkarolina · 5 hours
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hi
could you pls write a smau about a gymnast and lando
𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ y/n and lando hate each other. at least that’s what they want people to think. actually, they are in a relationship with each other
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ lando norris x gymnast!fem!reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ none!
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌: Sunisa Lee
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ a lot of lando love on my account lately! might make that change 😊😊 also, ik sunisa is team usa but for the sake of the story pretend she is for britain 🥹
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y/n_l/n ✔︎
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liked by simonebiles, olympics, nike, and others
y/n_l/n So excited to represent Britain for Paris 2024! 🇬🇧 the new leo smacks 😵‍💫😵‍💫
2,346 comments
username1 SHE’S BACK!!
username2 i keep forgetting she is british and not from the usa 😭
→ username3 SHE’S NOT?? → username4 nope! she goes to college in the usa for the gymnastics program but she is a british citizen :) → username5 my life has been a lie
landonorris ✔︎ it’s not your colour tbh 🫤 🫤
→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ neither is orange but here we are 🤷‍♀️ → oscarpiastri ✔︎ oh god here we go → landonorris ✔︎ @ y/n_l/n it’s papaya actually → y/n_l/n ✔︎ “it’s papaya actually “ 🤓 ☝️ → landonorris ✔︎ your not funny → y/n_l/n ✔︎ *you’re → oscarpiastri @ mclaren media train this man. i'm at my limit. → username6 can anyone explain why they hate each other so much?? 😭 → username7 nvm that, someone send oscar help that hes screaming for
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y/n_l/n ✔︎
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y/n_l/n olympics are underway 👀
1,985 comments
landonorris ✔︎ i hope you fall
→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ what a supportive companion 😍 love you lan 😘 → landonorris ✔︎ i hate you too 😘 😘 → username8 these guys have no chill bro 😭
lilyzniemer the heart 🫶
→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ for my best girl ❤️ → oscarpiastri ✔︎ excuse you? → y/n_l/n ✔︎ you are excused.
username10 seriously, does anyone know why lando and y/n don’t like each other?? they are from such polar opposite sports 😭
username11 i heard from somewhere that they were friends in school but had a falling out for some reason… might be due to their respective sports.
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y/n_l/n ✔︎
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y/n_l/n rest and relaxation 😴
3,001 comments
username12 UHMMM…
username13 Miss Y/N L/N. Who the fuck is that man?
landonorris did you save croissant for me?
→ y/n_l/n ✔︎ i did actually → landonorris then where is it 🤨 → y/n_l/n ✔︎ ready to be shoved up your fucking ass → mclaren ✔︎ i’m tired. → username14 HELP NOT THE MCLAREN ADMIN BEING OVER THEM. → landonorris ✔︎ :( → username15 THE SAD FACE 😭😭 → username16 anyone else find it strange lando isn’t commenting about the guy in the photos? i mean he teases her all the time and to just have nothing now is so strange → username17 stay delusional!!
username16 lando.jpeg like??? 🤨📸
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landonorris ✔︎
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landonorris J'adore Paris 🥐
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username17 i think lando is loving something else other than paris…
→ landonorris ✔︎ no
username18 THE MUSEUM DATE?? 🙁🙁
username19 idk who that girl is but i wish i was her 😕
y/n_l/n ✔︎ the bucket hats need to be retired.
→ landonorris ✔︎ uhhhmm??? no?? some guy said i look handsome. → y/n_l/n ✔︎ was the man a figment of your imagination? → landonorris ✔︎ rude 😒
maxfewtrell ✔︎ upset i don’t get any picture credits. i was the third wheel for nothing.
username20 WHO IS THAT GIRL??
username21 i’m telling you guys it’s y/n and when they reval it they will be laughing in our faces.
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y/n_l/n ✔︎
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y/n_l/n better than gold 🩷🥇
tagged ; landonorris
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username22 WHAT ON EARTH
→ username23 IS GOING ON → username24 IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS
oscarpiastri ✔︎ what in the world.
→ username25 HELPP → username26 i think oscar finally lost it 😭😭
carlosainz55 ✔︎ put a jumpscare warning next time 😢
→ landonorris ✔︎ sorry mate, if you’re on her account you’ll be seeing her quite a lot → carlosainz55 ✔︎ yeah! i totally meant Y/N! → landonorris ✔︎ 🤨 → y/n_l/n ✔︎ HAHA POINT AND LAUGH EVERYONE!
landonorris ✔︎
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liked by y/n_l/n, charles_leclerc, f1, and others
landonorris she’s a little weird and kind of mean to me but i love her 🙃
tagged ; y/n_l/n
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username27 IT’S CONFIRMED GUYS!!
username28 more y/nlando content ??? it really is the best day ever.
y/n_l/n ✔︎ i’m not mean 🙁🙁
→ landonorris you literally made me choke on my spaghetti. → y/n_l/n ✔︎ because you were outstanded by my beauty 😍 → landonorris ✔︎ maybe i was 🫶 → y/n_l/n ✔︎ stop i’m blushing 🫣🩷 → osarpiastri ✔︎ i missed it when you two together was a secret. → landonorris ✔︎ someone is grumpy. @ y/n_l/n get lily to call him so he stops being a baby → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ didn’t you cry when she got the first place medal? → landonorris ✔︎ didn’t you retire from the australian gp? → username29 SHOTS FIRED 😭 → username30 sassy lando is back → y/n_l/n ✔︎ oh sweetheart, he sadly never left. → landonorris ✔︎ sadly??
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A friend I had briefly in my teens years was this girl in Arizona. She was a junior when I was a freshman, and as I was socially awkward and very lonely she kind’ve pulled me under her wing for a while. I don’t remember how we met, but I remember riding in her car and meeting her cute miniature Doberman.
But the thing I remember most about this girl was that she loved lying to me. And I had a massive but I acknowledged crush on her so I adored being lied to. Her natural charisma and storytelling was hypnotic.
It’s not what it sounds like because it wasn’t malicious but she came up with this in depth lore to tell me about this fake job she had. I know autistic people are meant to be credulous but I truly never believed her stories, I just adored her storytelling and was very ready to listen to whatever tale she spun that day. Another of her friends chided her once for teasing me but I genuinely never minded.
In her lore she moonlighted as a Professional Liar. People would hire her to get close to a target they wanted rattled. She’d make friends, develop a strong relationship, foster a dependency on her, then disappear. Then when they were confused and missing her sometime when the employer needed their target rattled she’d show back up as a glimpse to knock them off balance. Often it was implied she’d faked her death in the interim.
That itself was fine, it was an okay story. But in order to support that lie she’d make up tons of supporting details that were way more fun. She had this fake boyfriend who got high as balls on a mission and ended up seeing a sheep in a field and carrying it to a farmhouse to try to buy it because he wanted a puppy. I liked that one but suspected she didn’t know how big sheep were.
She’d IM chat with me as this made up boyfriend sometimes; once she had him ask me if I noticed her limping and he told me she’d just lost a toe but was covering for it like a champ. That one was fun.
She told me about something she called “purple charge” which was a way to get instant night vision. I did try looking that one up on the off chance, but was sadly disappointed there.
She said that Professional Liars had such high stakes jobs that they needed a week of insane time where they just partied so hard it was like a Dionysus rave and her IM boyfriend persona implied she’d killed someone during one of those stints.
I had such a fun time with her elaborate fiction that I’d often ask follow up questions and she had to do a lot of world building to keep up with my fascination. We’d get to class and I’d have three or four new questions which I think is why her friend thought her teasing was too far. They genuinely thought I believed her but I was just loving the fiction.
If any of this sounds malicious I’ll also add that when I got harassed on a roleplaying board she went out guns blazing to go after the guy who’d been harassing me. She genuinely enjoyed my company.
I find myself looking back on our friendship very fondly. I can’t remember her last name or have any way of looking her up, but she really was a professional liar to me. The only downside is that I’m completely faceblind so if she ever wanted to pop unexpectedly into my life I’d have no idea it was her.
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dizzygrizzlies · 11 hours
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no, you don’t need to wear your mask/tail to school.
i wish young nonhumans didn’t feel compelled to be ‘out’ at school, especially when it’s a dangerous environment. i keep seeing posts along the lines of “wore my tail/mask to school! people berated/teased/put their hands on me, but it’s ok”.
no, it’s not.
like.. i understand a mask or a tail can be a very validating thing for some people. and i’m not saying NO ONE should wear them at schools. but i just keep watching this mounting trend of young therians insinuating you need some physical accessory or to do quads to be a ‘real’ nonhuman. and then it leads to things like this and it makes me incredibly sad.
i’d known i was alterhuman since late elementary school, actually. it’s a huge part of my life even now, years after graduation. there wasn’t a reason for it to be brought up, so i never did. it was a closely guarded secret to me, but it didn’t feel like a weight i was carrying. i always thought “no one needs to know i’m an animal if it jeopardizes my safety. so, oh well”.
“but, how will people know that i’m an animal?”
they probably will. they probably already do.
i was the designated ‘animal’ person my entire school career despite not ever handling animals in front of anyone. if there were pets, lost wild animals (baby rabbits, birds, lizards), or sometimes even loose livestock that got onto campus, it was always me who had to go tend to them.
everyone wanted me in their group in environmental science. if a project called for animal illustrations, the same thing would happen. it was certainly weird because i was also a ‘weird kid’ and not especially desired to be around outside of that, lol. but i was never harassed for it. it made me feel very validated, actually.
i had fun during gym running and fiercely destroying the opposing team in field hockey. i taught everyone which plants were okay to forage (and we snacked on them when we had to sit on the lower field for practice). every day i was hyperaware of the limbs i had that weren’t quite there. friends noticed my ears twitch and my nose wiggle at certain stimuli. i felt nice walking on two legs. i felt nice because i felt animal and i didn’t have to prove it to anyone.
really like… just do what makes you happy. i admire the bravery it takes to so earnestly wear your identity on your sleeve like that. that’s very impressive. however, there is NO obligation to do anything like that if you understand that there will be a reaction that poses a threat to you.
i want our kids to be safe, too. you don’t have to feel dysphoria over being discreet. sometimes it’s the safest option. and sometimes, that can be really fun, too.
study everything you can about your ‘type. wikipedia and animalia are good resources. ramble about them to anyone who will listen. jokingly refer to yourself as one in friend spaces. wear discreet clothes that remind you of your ‘type. find a nice private place outside where you can run and explore and look at plants and smell the air and feel like yourself. but by no means do you have to prove yourself. you know you.
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Megumi falling in love for the first time?
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Attempts at Friendship are Unappreciated
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Synopsis: Megumi doesn’t have a need for friends, let alone a lover. But upon getting his first crush, he learns some new things about himself, like maybe he cares more than he thinks.
pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!Reader
content warning: SFW, potential friends to lovers, Megumi sorting out his feelings sort of stuff because cynical, overthinker Megumi is my favorite Megumi.
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If you were to ask Megumi, he didn’t have any need for friends. And he has been asked before by people like Gojo and his sister. The answer was always the same. He prefers being alone. People were too complicated. Too selfish. Too good. Too everything, really. And he was, well, himself.
Even after arriving at Jujutsu High, it’s still unnerving to him to have someone talk to him so earnestly, like his eyes weren’t permanently fixed with irritation, like he wasn’t constantly avoiding others, like he didn’t wear indifference like a new fur coat in the height of winter.
Itadori was an unexpected exception. An outburst of emotion intravenously linked him to the other boy, the golden strings of their destinies twined and knotted together on Fate’s spinning wheel.
You, on the other hand, have no reason to befriend him. He’s never had anything to offer others in return for their company, which never bothered him until he met you.
Megumi questioned what it was about you that allows you to get so close. So, he lets you talk, chattering his ear off in the covered walkway hosting the vending machines.
He studies you inch by inch, searching for something in the bright expression on your face and the crinkle of your eyes when you smile; he still doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for. Your motive – the reason for wanting to talk to someone like him?
“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.
“I don’t have one.”
It may sound like a rude dismissal of your question but it's the truth, the painfully boring truth. He’s never put much thought into trivial things like that. The fact settles heavily in his stomach and rings hollow in his chest like when his sister said he’d never learn to make friends if he didn’t put himself out there.
Back then, Megumi pretended not to have heard her. In truth, it bothered him when she said it, only for the feeling to quickly fade away before he even left school that day. That strange void he felt back then always seems to resurface at the worst of times.
“Would you say that you like black or silver better? How about blue?”
Megumi looks down and plays with the tab on his orange juice can, avoiding the thing about you that makes him want to hear you talk. Megumi has no need for friends. Attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.
“They’re all fine,” he grumbles out. It’s the maximum he allows.
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Megumi doesn’t have a type. It’s another one of those trivial things he’s never bothered to think about until his head was literally cracked through the pavement.
He knows all about types though, and he knows as much as he cares about romance from the bad to the good. Sweaty palms, blushing faces, pounding hearts were all reoccuring themes in his books.
Megumi never thought he’d have romantic feelings for anyone, no matter how fleeting. He reckons he isn’t capable of it. He just isn’t wired that way.
It’s comforting in a sense. It means he didn’t have to worry about attachments. Sure, he loves his sister, and Gojo, well, he cares for his benefactor, but he’s never considered the older man someone he felt okay investing all his feelings into. People his own age were complicated enough; adults were worse, his father was worse; the little he remembers anyway.
When he thinks about the way he met Gojo who too conveniently saved him from the Zen’in clan in exchange for becoming his student, it’s hard for him to let his trust flow purely even after all this time; even when Gojo took it upon himself to do Megumi favors like putting Itadori's room right next door (another thing Megumi didn't appreciate).
Megumi blames his long-seated resentment for the reason his heart starts to work overtime the day you present friendship bracelets to everyone. They’re fancy; many steps above the cheap kind that you’d find at some discount convenience store with plastic alphabets and random beads and symbols. He assumes a couple of the pieces might be real.
Kugisaki’s is green, shining on her wrist like emeralds. Megumi thinks it suits someone like Kugisaki, who would undoubtedly love to be covered in jewels. Itadori has a similar one, rotating with a pattern of red and opaque white pieces.
Standing in that hall, drowning out the conversation between Kugisaki and Itadori about who has the prettier bracelet, Megumi realizes he’s next.
It starts when you step in front of him; there’s a cautious tone to your voice when you say his name because you already know: attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.
It's with a roll of anxiousness, the one that always comes with the mystery of whether his exchange with someone will be positive or negative and the skeptic thought in his head that reminds him most people always want something in return, that makes him throw up a wall.
“These probably aren’t your thing but I made one for you too,” you preface. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t really sure what to put on it so I made some guesses.”
You’re right. Friendship bracelets aren’t his thing; needing a token like a bracelet to prove your relationship to someone is asinine. It’s against what is supposed to make a friendship special. Strong friendships should need no words, right?
Most importantly, he doesn’t need it, and there’s no reason for you to give him one.
“You keep it,” he starts. However, it’s already too late as you grab his arm and slide the trinket over his hand.
“I don’t—” he starts again; there’s a bit of surprise in the way you look at him, the way everyone stops and looks at him actually. This quickly becomes one of those times where it’d be easier to go with the flow than to fight the current. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Only because you already made it,” he explains more fully, stifling the embarrassment that wants to bubble from his chest with so much attention.
Like before, he finds himself too focused on watching you, the way your eyes soften from surprise and rejection to shining stars. He thinks this must be how the protagonists in those books feel when heat creeps up their neck. Those books also left him sorely unprepared that it would go past neck to his face and ears.
He breaks away from the situation, finding a way to retreat into the background to shield himself from the gooey feeling permeating the air. He drops his gaze to his arm, focusing on the bracelet with his name accompanied by a repetition of blue and silver, connecting the two—four—of you together.
Megumi fixes his sleeve over the bracelet, but he can’t hide how painfully aware he is of the charms rolling against his skin.
It was both a pleasant feeling and completely alien.
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It broke.
Megumi was a bit reckless against a low-level curse, and it broke. He didn’t even realize it until after the battle was over and one of the silver charms were rolling under his foot.
It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was bound to happen eventually considering this line of work. Yet, he still picked up the few pieces he could separate from the gravel, and the entire ride home his wrist feels unreasonably bare.
Thinking about how he messed up makes him annoyed at himself, especially when he wonders what you’d think if you noticed he wasn’t wearing it. You’d probably think he tossed it somewhere; that he didn’t like it. He liked it. The same way he likes to listen to you talk on car rides home after missions or when you ask him to hang out with you and the others or when you read all the books he recommends with the protagonists that are quickly becoming too relatable with every skipped heartbeat and tongue-tied word. He’s frustrated to acknowledge why that’s the case.
It’s only been three months since the start of the school year, he thinks. It took only three months for his thoughts to start drifting to his classmates, with you almost always center stage in them.
When he arrives back at the school, he finds your room and knocks on your door. He shows you what little remains of the gift you gave him, as if he needs to immediately absolve himself of any wrongdoing.
“Do you want me to make you another one?” you ask cautiously.
Megumi can guess why you’re hesitant considering he only accepted your gift because of peer pressure. He still believes gifts like this are silly and unnecessary.
But…
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
He wants it.
So, he goes into your room where he watches you begin the process of making him another bracelet. You ask him which accessories he would prefer, and like always he doesn’t have much preference other than what you think is best. As long as it isn’t too silly, of course.
He gives his undivided attention to how your fingertips pour over your work kit and the many square boxes filled with different miniature shapes before you carefully pick out one with a little dog face.
“I think this one is good,” you whisper to yourself before continuing your search for another complementing bead.
You smile as you work. It’s nice. Cute even as you bite down on your lip in concentration; and right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that information other than note the way it makes his palms feel clammy especially when he notices your eyes lift back up to his.
Megumi notices a lot about you actually. He notices how you always go out your way to get his, well, everyone’s opinion on everything. He notices that whenever you share your snacks with everyone that you always save ginger for him. He notices how your gaze lingers on him when you ask if everyone is in one piece after difficult missions. He also notices how your finger stops over a silver square, one with a little black heart carved in each side. He wonders, perhaps too hopefully, if the charm is just one you think he’d like or if it means more than that.
“Why do you always keep trying to talk to me?” he asks, fighting the urge to beg you to stop getting stuck in his mind so much.
Your head snaps up from what you’re doing.
“What do you mean? We’re teammates,” you answer simply.
“Aren’t missions enough? We don’t need to interact aside from that.”
You pinch your eyebrows at him, and there’s a frown on your face. “Sure we do.”
“There’s no reason.”
It’s not like he ever saved your life, not like Itadori. It’s not like he has a somewhat familial relationship with you, like Gojo. You’re not his sibling or his parent; he’s not the friendlist either so there’s no reason to try to get closer any more than necessary, and there’s no reason for him to be feeling so nervous right now.
“How about because I like talking to you? I think you’re pretty funny, and you’re a kind person.” You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t know. I just like being friends with you.”
Megumi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Some deep explanation why you keep trying to get close to him? Some selfish excuse from you that he could use to warrant pushing you away. A reason to justify why he likes you so much? A reason to hope you like him just as much?
Maybe.
There doesn’t need to be some special reason for you wanting to be his friend, which means he doesn’t really need a reason either.
“I see.”
“Finished,” you say, holding out his newly made bracelet to him. “I poured some of my cursed energy into it, so it won’t break so easily next time.”
Megumi feels calm once again when he feels the weight and roll of the beads on his skin again; the aura of your curse energy humming through it makes the connection back to you much more noticeable.
“What about me?” you ask, drawing his attention. “Do you like being friends with me?”
Megumi can’t answer that, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he feels like his tongue weighs more than lead as you lean closer into him.
His eyes find your lips, soft and parted. This is the first time he’s gotten the urge to kiss someone. It makes his stomach whirlwind, and he quickly finds a way to answer you without having to look at you as he picks at one of the charms.
“Can I make you one?”
The next morning, Megumi decides to go out with you and the others for breakfast, which in hindsight was a mistake as Itadori points out the new accesory you’re wearing on your wrist.
“Hey, you got one too now.”
You smile, holding it up proudly. “Megumi made it for me!”
“Megumi?!” Itadori blurts out.
“Made it for you?” Nobara asks with raised eyebrows and a hand on her hip.
“He did a really good job.”
It’s like the time before when you first gave them their gifts, and everyone is looking at him again. “I didn’t do anything special; a monkey could do it,” he mumbles out.
Itadori is the first to crack a laugh followed by Kugisaki. Then, the two of them start muttering and teasing him in unison.
“He’s so modest,” Itadori points out.
“Loverboy,” Kugisaki whispers.
“Can we call you Megumi too?” Itadori asks.
Megumi doesn’t have the patience to consider whether the other boy is being genuine or not as he grits his teeth and growls out a quick “shut up” before konking Itadori on the head to prove his point. It’s enough to make them leave him alone for now as Itadori accidentally trips into Kugisaki from the force.
“That was completely unnecessary, Fushiguro,” Kugisaki grumbles as she pushes Itadori off and stands back to her feet.
Megumi sighs.
This is why he doesn’t want friends.
“Did you just sigh at me!”
“If that’s what you heard,” he tells her.
“You better sleep with both eyes open!”
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
Yet if it’s those two then he guesses having friends isn’t completely unbareable.
Suddenly, Megumi loses focus at the timbre of your laugh.
“You guys are starting early today.”
You’re still laughing at them, harder now actually, and it’s precious. He throws his gaze to the wall as if he’s ignoring Kugisaki and not trying to hide the heat blooming on his cheeks when you glance at him, making him aware that he’s the reason for your laughter.
Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his thumb over the bracelet and the heart you left behind there.
Friendship is something he’s coming around to. Having a crush for the first time, well, he still needs work on figuring that out. 
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sometimesanalice · 7 hours
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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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Text
Kiss Me More
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Hi guys :)
I had a request for the last chapter for the serie "Kiss Me", so here it is :)
I hope it will suits you, dear anon.
Enjoy ♥
TW : Mention of cheating
PART 1 | PART 2
______________________________________________________________
Being Katie McCabe’s girlfriend is something you were hoping to be for several weeks before it happens. You both needed a little of adjustment at first, Katie was sometimes a little bit reluctant to pass to much time with you. You were hurt at first, thinking that she finally wasn’t interested to the idea of making things with you. When she realized that she hurt you, you had an explanation, where she basically told you that she didn’t want things to go to fast. Because a part of her was always scared of something going wrong or something.
You were great now, she isn’t the most demonstrative person in the world, at least when you are not alone. You can live with that actually, both of you decided to hide your relationship to the public for now. Not all of your teammates know about your relationship, but the ones who are your friends know.
Katie makes a point to let you understand that she is in charge in this relationship, but as bossy as she wants to be, you can only see how much she looks for you. When you are not coming to work together, she always waits for you in the locker room to have her kiss before going to training. When you are eating with other of your teammates at the training facilities, she always sneaks her chocolate to you. And you can say that she remembers everything you tell her.
Your favorite chocolate, your favorite flower, your favorite color, the name of the cat you had when you were a kid, where you like to go for a walk, your favorite TV show… She knows everything and she is always proud about it.
That’s the kind of things that makes you realize that she really cares about you.
********
“Do you really need to go?” you ask in a pouting tone, wrapped around your girlfriend.
Katie needs to go, you know that. She has to go to Ireland for the national break. You stay in London yourself, your ankle being a little sore and Australia only playing friendly, both of your teams decide to let you rest. You’re a little sad not to go have fun with Caitlin, Steph and Kyra, but you will next time.
“Yes, I have to. But I still could take you in my pocket” she smirks.
“I think I’d like that” you smile back.
Katie laughs and you cuddle even more against her, trying to get as much from your girlfriend as possible. It’s only two weeks, but you don’t like when she’s not around. She seems a little less needy than you are, but she never said anything about your behavior with her. Katie being very honest, you know that she would have said something if she didn’t like something you do.
You feel her shiver when you take a big breath in her neck and you smile, letting your finger run on the skin of her abs. But she knows what you’re doing, because several seconds after, she takes your hand in hers.
“We don’t have time for that, my pretty lady.”
“Can’t make it quick?” you tease.
“Not with you.”
She kisses you and you let her, distractedly asking yourself if it’s a compliment or not. But you soon come back to reality, Katie will leave in some minutes now. You’re at her house, you’ve got her cat’s supervision while she’s away. Ella, her sister, has too but she will rejoin her for the game in Ireland in some days.
You will not, because it would be too risky to do it. People would easily understand what’s happening if you go to the game. And with the social media, it would be impossible to hide. You know it. You’re still a little sad, but you don’t say anything to Katie about it.
She seems a little sad when she says goodbye to you at her door. The way she puts your hair behind your ear before kissing you softly say it all. You don’t need Katie to words what she’s feeling because you can feel it too.
“Write me?” you ask when she takes you against her one more time.
“Course. You too, ok?”
You nod, not trusting your voice at this moment. You hide your face on her neck one last time, breathing her sent. But you know you have to let her go; her Uber won’t wait for her forever.
After a last-minute recommendation about Coopurr, she kisses you a last time before running to the car with her suitcase. You can’t help but smile, waving back at her when she does from the back seat.
********
Katie lost her first game against France and in your opinion, it wasn’t really deserved. Maybe you are biased, but Katie would have deserved to score the goal at the 86th minute. She’s still fuming about her teammates fail and you try to distract her while showing her cat.
It’s seems to work, Coopurr’s purring making her smile. Ella left this morning, and you feel a little lonely here. Thanks god, Lia is in London too and you have someone you like to pass time with you. She is dog-sitting one of the dogs of your teammates and you wonder how it would look like when some of them would have children too.
You were actually walking Calvin with Lia, when you receive a message from one of your friends. You don’t really like when someone send you a “Have you seen that?!” with an article. You were not walking fast because of Lia’s leg, so you don’t have to slow to read it. Maybe sitting on a bench would have been a clever idea though.
You are currently reading an article of a girl, explaining how she slept with Katie McCabe. Your girlfriend. You know that Katie had some hookup before things are getting different between you, but the timing isn’t good. Katie and you are together for four months now. And this girl is literally talking about last week, exactly the day when Katie and her teammates went to a bar to decompress from the training. When you said to Katie that you find it strange, she laughs and answered “Meh we are Irish. Beer is in our DNA.” Which made you laugh at the time, but you are far from laughing right now.
“What’s going on?”
You realize that Lia called your name almost two times before you raise your face to look at her. Not being able to talk, you just give her your phone. You watch closely at her face when she reads it, and you see her passing from questioning to shock. She looks at you straight in the eyes when she gives you your phone back.
“Do you think that’s true?”
There is a lump in your throat that keeps you from talking right. You try to swallow it before talking.
“There are a lot of details.”
Lia nods. There are a lot of details. About Katie and her flat in Dublin, the same one where Ella was living before coming to London too.
“Come on, let’s go home. You need to call Katie.”
********
You did not call Katie, but you didn’t answer her messages or her call either. You know it’s stupid and maybe a little immature. But you cannot face it now. The betrayal is too hard to support, and you cried so much that you are not sure that your eyes will be white again one day.
You still take care of Coopurr though, the cat not leaving your side when you are at Katie’s house. You know she can see you coming if she wants, she installed security cameras outside and inside the house. Other than that, you just go to your flat to sleep the most that you can. You do not want to face this, maybe if you keep hiding the pain will fade away.
It doesn’t. You are startled awake two days after, with loud banging against your door. You hesitate to go answering, but you are clearly in fear that the person will break your door if you don’t get up.
So, you do, trying to arrange your hair in a messy bun. You are wearing Katie’s Irish away jumper and a pair of black Nike shorts. You’re pathetic. But Lia seems to be more relieved than judgy about your appearance when she sees you. She has her phone in her hand, but the relieved soon let place to a frown.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Sleeping?”
She grunts and close the door behind her when she comes in your flat. Thanks god you cleaned last night, tired to be in a messy place.
“Why aren’t you answering to Katie?”
“I can’t” you whisper, following her in the living room.
Lia turns around to look at you and her face softens when she sees you. She hesitates several seconds, before handing you her phone.
“Well, do it now.”
You look at the screen to realize that she was already calling someone for almost 45 minutes already. It’s Katie. Lia encourages you to take it with another nod of her head. You sigh and take it, letting yourself fall in the couch behind you.
“Hello?” you mumble.
“Bloody hell, where were you?!”
You wince at Katie’s tone, Lia taping your shoulder in an attempt of recomfort before leaving for the kitchen. You appreciate the intimacy she offers you, but you would have preferred to have her with you to be honest.
“Why aren’t you answering to any of my text or call? What happened?”
Katie seems on verge of breaking down and that’s maybe what made you snap. You don’t shout with Katie; you know that it doesn’t make any sense to do it with her. She’s loud, but you were always able to talk about things without shouting.
“I don’t know, you tell me?” you say icily.
“I don’t understand.”
You can easily imagine her with her eyebrows frown. You sigh before rolling your eyes. If she wants proof, you’re going to give some to her.
“I’ll send you something. After that, if you have something more to tell me, call me back.”
You don’t wait for her answer before hanging up. You take your phone, looking for the article your friend sent you. You didn’t answer to him, but right now, it doesn’t matter. You sent the link to Katie, before going to the kitchen to give Lia her phone back.
“Do you want me to stay, or can I leave?” the Swiss captain asks.
“You can go, Wally. Thanks for coming.”
“Anytime. Call me, ok?”
You smile slightly and nod, letting her kiss your cheek before she leaves. You just have closed the door behind her when your phone start ringing. It’s Katie, requiring a FaceTime. You answer and Katie’s face is almost white when you see her.
“This is bullshit. I never did that, I swear.”
You sigh, rubbing your forehead. You are honestly so tired, the amount of sleep you had those past hours are not very good. And sad, of course.
“I don’t know, Katie” you whisper.
“No, it’s the truth! You have to believe me, baby please.”
“How can she know all of these things, Kat?” you say wearily. “She even knows that you have a birthmark on your tummy, or how your kitchen is decorated.”
“Ella always made TikTok in that flat before she comes to London! And for my birthmark, it probably visible on some pictures. You know that I give my jersey to kids sometimes after the game. People take me on picture every time.”
You let several seconds passed, trying to listen to her. The last part is true, you saw thousand pictures of your girlfriend in sport bra on the football fields. For the second part you don’t see her making things like this, particularly with the fact that you just have to go on TikTok to see if it’s the truth or not.
“Come on Babe, why in the world would I ask you out if it’s just for sleeping around soon after?”
“I don’t know.”
You are desperate. You want to believe her, of course you do. You know she has sometimes trouble with talking about her feelings, but you never thought about her cheating on you. She’s one of the most loyal persons you know.
“You know what? I’m taking a plane right now.”
“What?”
Katie is suddenly moving, and the noise of a suitcase that is open is audible from the phone.
“No Katie, you can’t do that. You have training tomorrow and a game in two days against England.”
“I don’t give a damn fuck.”
You almost roll your eyes.
“Katie, stop.”
She listens and look at you, her face dark and her eyebrow frown. She looks determined but she still stopped when you asked her.
“You can’t do that” you repeat.
“Well come to Ireland. I’ll sent you the ticket for the plane.”
“Katie…”
“Stop calling me that!” she shouts.
“Calling you what?” you ask, frowning.
“Katie.”
She says it like it’s a bad world or something and this time you can’t help but roll your eyes at her.
“It’s your name?” you point.
“You stopped calling me that after we start dating. Stop calling me Katie and come to Dublin. Please.”
********
That’s how you find yourself in a plane for Dublin, reserved by Katie who put you in first class. You roll your eyes when you realize it and sent her a picture of you in your seat when you are in the plane. Since your call, Katie almost never stops calling or texting you. You don’t understand how she managed to get the time to go to training, but she does. And the pictures of her on Instagram can say you that it’s the truth.
She warned you that she won’t be able to come to pick you at the airport, but you are surprised to see a man with your name on a paper waiting for you. He smiles at you, informing you that Katie sent him to drive you to her hotel.
He talks to you about Dublin and some places during the journey to the hotel, while you are looking by the window. You never went to Ireland before, only for football. Maybe Katie will show you around if you manage to forget your fight. And you definitively need to change the idea you made in your head that Katie really cheated on you.
You know that some of your friends saw the article too, but no one talked about it to you. Maybe because you were ignoring everyone, true.
When you arrive, you hide behind your hood because you don’t want anyone to recognize you for now. You’re really fearing to find yourself facing Ruesha, for example. Katie told you her room number and your hands are shaking when you knock on the door of her hotel room.
It took her several seconds to respond, but she finally opens the door. She looks tired honestly, but she’s at camp so it’s maybe not surprising. She froze a little when she sees you, like if she doesn’t believe that you will actually come. You’re the one breaking the silence, rather awkwardly to be honest.
“Hi” you whisper, waving your hand.
Thanks god, Katie doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t laugh, taking you against her. Hard.
“You’re here” she whispers while holding you.
You nod, finding solace in her embrace. You missed her, obviously. It would have felt better to find her without all this drama though. She lets you go only several minutes after, not only releasing you totally. She looks at you and you look back, both of you not knowing where to start.
“I’m sorry for the article” Katie finally says after some time.
You shrug, not knowing what you could answer to that. She doesn’t ask for it, cheating or not cheating.
“Do you believe me now?”
You know that the answer to the question is important for her. Like you said, Katie’s loyal. And it’s one of the things who are the most important for her. You know it, you know Katie.
“I think I do” you finally say very slowly.
You see that Katie is looking at your face and your eyes with attention, maybe looking for any trace of doubt from your part. You believe her, that doesn’t mean that the article was forgotten. The way you felt when you first read it is still very perennial in you.
“Yeah?” she asks softly.
You nod, smiling very lightly when she strokes your cheek. She gives you the impression that you are made of glass, and you don’t know if she ever been so delicate with you.
“Come sit down.”
She takes you by the hand and you let her drag you in her bed. You sit here, next to her, with your back against the headboard. Katie sits in front of you, playing with her thumb and her nails.
“I’m going to talk, but if you have something to say please feel free to stop me, ok?” Katie asks.
You nod, looking at her. You are curious to know what she might want to tell you. Does she even know that girl? Or did that girl create all this story?
“I know that I’m maybe not the perfect girlfriend and I know that our relationship didn’t really start like it was supposed to. I’ll always had a thing for you, but I was scared, I was an asshole, and it was honestly easier for me to just sleep with you and try to pass to something else. That’s what I tried to do, but it didn’t work. I was still thinking about you, even more than before.”
Katie stops to take a breath and you are still looking at her, not saying a word for now. You don’t know if Katie thought about what to say to you, but for now you understand what she’s saying.
“I never slept with someone else since our first time, I couldn’t even if I tried and that scared the shit out of me. It was so hard to deal with the breakup with Ruesha, not because I was still in love with her, but because it was so shit, you know? I really don’t want to have to deal with that once again.”
You nod slowly, still not talking. This point makes you a little uneasy to be honest. You knew that Katie’s ex will be here to the camp. And you don’t know how the hell are all the people doing, because it was hard for you to be ok with the fact that Ruesha was seeing Katie every day and not you.
“But then there was this damn girl hitting on you right in front of me and I couldn’t support it. I was only thinking that you were mine, but you weren’t. And at that point I didn’t know if you wanted to be mine or if my behavior ruined everything we could have. But you give me a chance, and I’ll be forever grateful for it. That’s why I will never do anything and take the risk to lose you, Y/N. I really care for you and you mean more to me than you think.”
Katie never talked to you about her feelings the way she is doing now. You are touched, of course. You were in love with her before you slept together for the first time, not thinking a second that she might be interested in you too. She seems so vulnerable now, her voice shaking a little at the end. Maybe it’s the emotions, maybe it’s because how much she talked. Maybe both.
You softly take her hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together.
“I really care about you too. That’s why this… things was so hard to read. I don’t understand why someone would invented something like that.”
“I dunno. For celebrity maybe”
Katie shrugs, not really having interest in that for now. All that mattered to her right now is being sure that you trust her. That you believe her and she didn’t lose you.
“Are we good?” she asks, searching for your eyes.
“You promise that nothing happened?”
“I swear on Coopurr’s head, babygirl.”
“Ok” you laugh, rolling your eyes.
You can’t hide the fact that this is the first time that you laugh since you red this article on the park with Lia.
“Hug?”
Katie opens her arms with a slight smile and you don’t hesitate once second before going for her. Your movement make you both fall in the bed and you smile when you hear Katie’s laugh. You missed it. You missed her.
“God I missed you” Katie mumbles from under you, reading in your mind.
“I missed you too” you say honestly, letting your head rest against her shoulder.
She just hums, stroking your back softly while steering at the ceiling. You feel yourself dozen, you haven’t really had a good sleep those last days. But soon there is knock against Katie’s door and you jump.
“McCabe, diner!”
Katie sighs softly and release you to sit on the bed.
“Is it now that I leave?” you asks, not able to hide your disappointment.
“If you want to. Otherwise, you can wait for me here, I’ll sneak something for you to eat and we can sleep together. Tomorrow morning I’ll make my sister come to get you and you can come to the game?”
“Won’t people ask what the hell I am doing here?” you arch an eyebrow.
“That’s not their business. Unless it disturbs you.”
“It doesn’t”
“So it’s settled then” Katie shrugs, getting up from the bed.
She kisses you one more time before leaving and you decide to take the time to shower. You fall asleep while waiting for her, only taking the time to eat the sandwich and snacks she takes with her in the room before falling asleep again. You slept better in her arms than you did since like forever.
And the next day, when Ella came to take you to Katie’s flat at Dublin, you are feeling good again. Katie didn’t cheat on you.
Ireland didn’t win against England, but you are prouder than ever of your girlfriend. You decide to wear Katie’s jersey and to watch the game with her family in the stadium. Your presence didn’t went unnoticed, but like Katie said, you both didn’t care. To be honest, you even have fun to post what fans like to call soft launch.
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levi501ackerman · 2 days
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She Looks Just Like a Dream | Levi x Reader Fluff
Levi x Reader Fluff
Summary: One day the scouts find out Levi has a wife. Everyone wants to meet her.
Word Count: 1.7k
Author's Note: Hello! I just finished Attack on Titan for the first time last Thursday April 11th, 2024. I haven't been obsessed with something in a while. Obsessed in the way of reading fanfics and making another tumblr account. I wrote this for fun because AOT reignited the inner teenage fangirl I used to be for One Direction. I hope you enjoy my first AOT fanfic. posted: 4/16/24. Song correlated: "Something About You" by Eyedress & Dent May
Sasha walked past the section commanders and Erwin standing and talking amongst themselves. She could not help but stare as she walked by because you were conversing with Captain Levi. It looked like you were . . . enjoying the conversation. There was Erwin talking to some recognizable leaders then you two off to the side fully facing each other. Sasha has never seen you before. You would giggle and your smile lit up your face. Levi had his arms crossed and his face looked softer. He would nod and indistinctively say something back to you which would just cause you to laugh and smile bigger. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of you. What a new version of Levi. Sasha looked for her table of friends. They needed to see Captain Levi acting like this.
Jean, Connie, Eren, Armin, and Mikasa were looking at Sasha already as if they were waiting to see the expression on Sasha. As she approached the table. She lowered her voice and pointed with her thumb, “You guys seeing this?”
“It’s the Captain’s wife,” Eren said.
“He has a wife!?” Sasha exclaimed louder.
“We were surprised too, everyone’s been trying to eavesdrop on them,” Connie said.
Sasha looked over her shoulder and the rest of the table couldn’t help but glance because how the hell did Levi pull you? And not only that what could you two be talking about? Captain Levi never mentioned being married or even hinted that he had someone at all. Battle plans could not make the pretty girl so giggly so what the hell were they talking about?
“What’s her name?” Sasha asked.
“No one knows,” Mikasa said softly. “Eren thinks she could be a Jenny or a Catherine.”
“Who knew he was married.”
“Possibly to keep her a secret. He would not want the wrong people to know about her.” Armin said. 
“I want to meet her,” Eren stated and most of the table agreed. He blushed a little and hoped no one noticed. They all could not take their eyes off of you. “We’re the Levi Squad and we should know our Captain’s wife!”
“We could introduce ourselves as the Levi Squad too so it doesn’t come off as weird that we are all approaching her—them!” Connie added and he started standing up. The table still stayed in their seat. “Are we going?”
“I’m not,” Mikasa said.
“What if he makes us run laps?” Jean asked.
“Why would he make us run laps? Just don’t ask any weird questions and we’ll be fine.” Eren said standing up next.
“Let’s go,” Connie said and the table except for Mikasa stood up. They approached the section commanders who noticed the five of them going towards them. Levi gave them the side eye as they came closer. You turned from Levi, noticed the group, and offered them a smile. 
“Good morning, Captain Levi.” Eren started and everyone greeted him with their eyes and then turned to you. Your clothes were cute and styled nicely. Levi noticed every single one of them scanning you head to toe. It was the third? or fourth? group to approach him while talking to you. “Hi we are Levi’s squad, you’re his wife?” 
“Yes.” You said smiling at the staring eyes.
“Your shoes are really cute, miss!” Sasha added excitingly.
“This is my wife, Y/N,” Levi said in his low voice. “These scouts are some of the brats in my special operations squad.” You extended your hand to Connie first. He grasped your hand.
“Wow, you have the softest skin.” He said in awed and wide eyes. You furrowed your eyebrow and let out a soft giggle. Levi scolded him. 
“It’s very nice to meet you,” You said as you shook each of their hand looking at all of them in the eyes. 
“My name is Armin. You seem very nice as well.” Armin smiled.
“Thank you. Really though everyone is very polite here and is very kind.” You smiled and motioned with both hands to the room. Some soldiers Levi talked to maybe only once or twice would approach to talk to you. Some soldiers talked to you before ever even talking to the captain himself.
“We didn’t know Levi had a wife. How long have you two been together?” Sasha asked intensely. 
“About . . . “ You looked to Levi and back at the group, “ten years? Coming up on eleven.” You said with warmth on your cheeks. They thought you were not like Levi at all. They thought you were enthusiastic when speaking to others and were like the sun. It did not seem like you would be into Levi at all. Your eyes looked down at Jean and he started blushing because he thought you were glancing at his crotch. “Your pocket watch is so pretty!” You admired the watch nearly falling out of his pocket. Jean yanked it out and thrusted the watch towards you. 
“Y-You can have it.”
“Your grandmother gave that to you, Jean!” Connie said grabbing and pulling his wrist back. Eren laughed at Jeans’s blunt stupidity.
“I can get you a nice pocket watch next time I’m in the capital,” Levi said and you smiled. 
“You’re so funny. Keep that your grandmother wanted you to have it.” You assured and Jean silently nodded. His only thought currently was you called him funny. 
“We’d love to get to know you more Y/N! Are you in the military regiment at all?” Sasha asked, “Where do you live?”
“She’s not going to tell you where we live,” Levi furrowed his eyebrows and Eren burst out laughing. Sasha’s probably going to run laps. 
“I can’t be that interesting to you!” You lightly swatted your hand and though it wasn’t a joke, the group couldn’t help but slightly smile. You were interesting to them. Soldiers wanted to talk to you just because of your beauty. “We opened a tea shop years ago and I collect vintage tea sets to sell. I also write books.” You smiled back and their faces lit up.
“You written books?” Connie asked.
“Yes.”
“Anything we might have read?” Eren asked enthusiastically.
“Do any of you actually read?” Levi asked. Let the record be known that the 104th Cadet Corps averaged the lowest academic grade. Most didn’t want to read the textbooks or take notes like they would have to in school.
“Hey be nice, your squad seems smart.” You wrapped an arm around Levi and everyone could not help but stare at the physical touch. You touched him and they never seen another woman touch their captain. “A few short stories for children have been published and distributed to the schools so they would not be interesting for adults to read.” 
“You’ve done so much . . . how old are you?” Sasha asked and Armin’s eyes went big.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask that!” Levi cut in. She’s going to be running laps until sunset again. 
“Y/N! I’m sorry I just mean you’re so accomplished and you’re so beautiful! Your hair is amazing. Levi, I can’t believe you kept her from us.” Sasha said. He rolled his eyes with a slightly softer face. You blushed.
“Thank you, you’re gorgeous as well.” Sasha was elated when you complimented her.
“You’re so beautiful . . .” She unknowingly repeated herself, “What made you drawn to Levi?”
“Sasha!” Connie and Eren pulled her back. Laps until the next morning.
“What?!” You smiled and wrapped your arm around Levi again, giving him a light shake and a squeeze. It was an odd site for the group to see. “Who wouldn’t be into this hilarious and kind gentleman? I feel like I have to fight for his attention sometimes whenever people come talk to us.” Truthfully most people approached you and Levi because of you. Guys would make up a stupid excuse to talk to Captain Levi with the intention of talking to you. Levi knew it too, but he couldn’t help that your energy makes people flock to you. He admired that you made friends where ever you went. Hated when guys would speak to you as if Levi wasn’t there. You blushed while looking at him and when Levi met your eyes his face got softer and he uncrossed his arms and nudged you. Levi looked away to hide his blushed cheeks. Who the fuck is she describing? the group thought. The Captain has never made a joke to them and they wondered what he does for you to call him a gentleman. “Levi! Are you being too hard on them?” You asked playfully and the five of them wanted to shout yes. Suddenly, a woman screaming your name excitedly from across the room could only be from one person.
“Hange! I was wondering when I would see you today!” You turned your attention to Hange running to embrace you in a big hug. You hugged and greeted Moblit with a warm hug afterward.
“Okay okay, you met Y/N run along,” Levi said. You instantly whipped back your attention to the group.
“Excuse me, it was very nice to meet you! Come over for dinner sometime so I can get to know you more! I can make my special braised short-rib beef.” Sasha was ready to duel Levi for you. Your white teeth sparkled to them and your smile radiated through the room. Connie, Sasha, and Jean enthusiastically agreed to your offer.
“If you keep inviting everyone to dinner how are we going to fit people into our house?” Levi asked you. 
They walked away in awe of the captain’s wife. Something about you emits a glow in a dull room.
“She’s not like Levi at all . . .” Armin said and Mikasa turned her head to the group heading back to the table. She noticed all of them seemed to be in a good mood. 
“He’s probably going to make you run laps for being pushy.” Jean joked to Sasha. 
“What did you say, Sasha?” Mikasa asked
“She was just being stupid.” Jean intervened.
“Jean you offered her your grandmother’s pocket watch,” Connie said and Mikasa raised her eyebrows. 
“I’d do it again.”
“What was she like? I could see her smiling a lot,” Mikasa said.
“She was positive and really supportive of Levi,” Eren said while reflecting on you. Everything you said was replaying in his head.
“She wrote children's books that are now in the schools,” Armin added.
“Damn it, I wanted to know the names of the books,” Eren said.
“Y/N seemed like someone that Levi needed in his life. She said he was a gentleman which I wasn’t expecting—” Connie started. 
“Well, he would treat her the best rather than anyone else,” Jean said. They turned to get another look at you but a few soldiers were blocking their view. Another round of people who wanted to meet you.
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gojoidyll · 12 hours
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puzzle piece ch. 1
Tumblr media
yandere ! aventurine x female ! reader
summary | all it takes is putting all the pieces together in order to go back to how you once were. though, it won't do you any good if someone is deliberately destroying the pieces before you can find them.
warnings | memory loss, paranoia, grammatical errors, etc.
puzzle piece masterlist
"Lost?"
You looked over at the person who spoke, lips pursed together as you shook your head. "No, I'm not..." which was a lie. You were, in fact, lost. Though, being lost was an understatement. You couldn’t remember anything, if you were being honest. Your name, where you are, where you came from, if you were with someone... all of it was just a blur right now. And it wasn’t helping that your surroundings looked so off. Lamps, chairs, and other items floated freely in the air. Not to mention that you always felt like you were about to wake but couldn’t quite do so.
"You sure? Because where I’m standing, friend, you do."
'Friend?' You finally looked over at him, your eyes scanning him up and down. His blonde hair and multi-colored eyes were the first things of his appearance that stood out to you.
"I’m sorry, do we... know each other?"
"Forgetting me already? We met this morning when you and the rest of the Astral Express crew got to Penacony and ran into some trouble at the front desk."
“Astral Express? Penacony?” The more the man said, the more confused you got. Nothing was making sense and your memories were not coming back to you no matter how much you tried. You looked him in the eyes then, but despite your confusion and your silent cry for help in understanding anything he was saying, he merely smiled.
"Something wrong?"
You wanted to answer him truthfully. Tell him that you couldn’t remember, that this place was apparently called Penacony, that you don’t know what an Astral Express is, and that you have never seen him before. But... something deep inside of you was telling you not to tell him a single thing. A deep part of yourself was telling you to lie.
"I-" You didn’t know what to do. Briefly looking around, you saw that no one was coming to talk to you like this man did. Which probably meant that no one else here knew who you were either.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything that you just mentioned. I don’t know the Astral Express or Penacony... and I don’t remember you either.”
Ultimately, you decided to tell the truth despite the alarm bells going off in your head. You were lost, had no memory of where or who you were, and you may or may not have friends that are also in this place. So, you decided to take a chance even if that chance is with this guy with a smile that could cut through any lie. And, little did you know, when you finished telling your truthful answer, his smile grew wider if only by a slight margin.
“You don’t remember? Well, that’s a shame. Weird too. I never heard of anyone losing their memory in the dreamscape.”
“The what scape?” The man chuckled, “you don’t even know that you’re dreaming? How tragic.”
You frowned, “I’m dreaming? That doesn’t make any sense. If I’m dreaming, then how are you here? You seem too real to be someone that I dreamed up.”
The man merely shrugged, “it’ll take too long to explain. For now, just accept that Penacony is a land of dreams where people go to escape reality. And everyone here shares the same dream.”
“So, you are a real person,” you tried to affirm.
“As real as you, I can promise that.” You sighed, “fine so I lost my memory then? How is that possible?”
“That, I am not too sure of. A case like yours has never happened before, but... since people can apparently die here, well, maybe losing one’s memory isn’t so far-fetched either.”
“Wait, what was that about dying here?”
The man waved his hand in a dismissive manner, “nothing you should concern yourself with. Trust me, even if you ask around about what I just said. No one will know. The Family, of course, is just trying to cover it in order to not cause a riot.”
“The Family? My family or yours?”
He smiled that same calculating smile of his, “it’s not that type of family... just see them as... an organization.”
You nodded along. Truth be told, this was starting to be too much for you. Trying to process all the new information being lightly tossed to you was starting to make your head hurt. You slightly wondered if you would even be able to remember this new info then the memories you have previously lost.
The man, taking notice of your worried expression, decided to leave it at that, “for now, let’s get you out of this dream so you can properly rest, and then tomorrow we can start looking into this little problem of yours together.”
“Right, thanks…”
“I’m Aventurine, and you’re y/n, just in case you were wondering.”
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olderthannetfic · 22 hours
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I hate to revive DNI discourse when it just ended on this blog but I often don’t think it’s as deep as people make it out to be and there’s a lot of, for lack of a better word, ~valid~ reasons someone may have a DNI. Like there’s absolutely contexts of “Kink Blogs DNI” disclaimers having an anti, swerf, etc undertone but sometimes I get it — for example I follow a couple of disability activists who post A LOT about incontinence, needing a caregiver, ETC who have stuff like “ABDL/DDLG/Devotee Blogs DNI.” Oftentimes that is not an indicator on their moral stance of those kinks, but rather them just being like “hey this is an activism-based journal where I post about incredibly personal things in regards to my own life, and while anyone has the right to read or reblog from me, if you’re clearly getting off to my medical needs or even if I get the vague impression you are, you WILL be blocked.”
Obviously that is an incredibly extreme and personal example, but I don’t think having a DNI boundary in your bio is ALWAYS a morality/discourse stance. On a much lighter note, I’m pretty active on Kpop Twitter, and there’s a lot of “RPF DNI” accounts there, and I think that’s more of a “I just want to post about my favorite band without shippers quote retweeting/replying to make it about their ship, and if you do so, I’ll block you. They’ve made public statements against these ships or about their real relationships and I am uncomfortable with people trying to dispute that.”
Oh yes there’s absolutely antis who hate RPF communities and all they stand for. But there’s also people who just straight up don’t want that on their account.
And like. As someone casually involved with RPF (i gossip about potential relationships with close friends and will reblog joke posts about it and will read it, but I’m not a writer for it and I’m definitely not someone who actually tries to speculate just how heavy the “fiction” part of an RPF ship might be), whether or not I choose to follow a person with such DNI depends on context. I keep my RPF ships/opinions off my main account, and even if I DO see a post that I would otherwise interpret as possibly shippy, I just won’t bring it up on said person’s posts, you know?
Damn this made me remember I have a DNI myself on one my accounts, 🤣 I have a minors DNI on one of my sideblogs. But I know I can’t prevent minors from seeing my posts or lying about their age or reblogging to a private sideblog or doing anything else that would go unnoticed. But once I do notice you interacting, if you’re clearly underage I’ll block you, just cuz I don’t feel comfortable with minors following my smutty fanart account even if I know minors look at smutty fanart, as someone who did look at smutty fanart as a minor. . .🎶Maybe I’m the problem it’s me. 🎶
--
No.
It's a stupid phrasing and no amount of validity in the criteria will make it less stupid.
No one here thinks they're always deep and meaningful. What we all say every time this comes up is that it's bad to conflate "I will block you if..." and "It is your job to research my boundaries ahead of time".
I'm not interested in people crying about how they like using an inaccurate term and everyone is supposed to understand what they mean. In practice, many people do mean that it's other people's job to enforce their boundaries for them. Validating this garbage terminology just encourages them.
It's a stupid, shitty term and we should move away from it.
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luvyeni · 2 days
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SEX FASHION AND GUITARS — chapter 28. release party !
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𐙚 pairings. rockstar!jaemin x stylist!reader
synopsis. l/n y/n fashion major and photographer on the side who says what she wants, na jaemin music major and lead guitar player for underground band DREAM. After yn forgets her to change her account and says something that catches the eye of jaemin she tries to ignore him — expect thanks to chenle she now works for them.
word count. 1877
SMUT WARNING !!
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Jaemins social battery had officially burned out; he sat in the booth of the club, nursing his drink; his picture hung up all over the club, watching his friends bask in all the attention they were receiving— half these people they didn’t really know, but when you tell people there’s free alcohol then it’s bound to be crowed.
Jaemin didn’t want to get to know the girls that were coming up to him— a few months ago, their sultry voice’s and little clothing would’ve peaked his interest; however his eyes were glued to only one person, you; but you were too busy dancing with jeno to even notice.
“you look like a loser.” Chenle came over, sitting down. “how you figure?” he scoffed, taking a sip of your drink. “you’re also stupid.” He rolled his eyes. “did you come over to insult me?” chenle shook his head. “im just saying, you’re not even trying, she came here, she looks hot as fuck.” He glared at the boy. “oh calm down, she’s my best friend I can say what I want.”
“anyways she looks good, and you’re sitting here like a loser just watching.” chenle said. “if you don’t take her home tonight, I think you should just give up, let jeno do it.” Chenle smirked watching the boys nose flare up. “seems like he’s close to anyway look.” He could see jeno’s hands low on your hip. “you’re annoying.” He turned to the younger boy. “but im right.”
chenle was scooped up by jisung dragging him away, leaving the boy alone again, still watching you; the more he watched you dance with jeno, the more jealous he became— and the more that damned skirt became see through. “shit.” He grunted, sitting his drink down on the table, standing up; hoping his growing boner isn’t showing — making his way over to you.
“why are you trying to get me killed by jaemin?” jeno questioned. “what makes you say that.” He put his hand on your waist. “you’re looking this good, im not gonna lie— and I know you can feel him staring at you.” He saw right through you. “so why not just go up to him.” You smiled. “because why not?” he shook his head. “you know he really likes you, he just doesn’t know how to verbally tell you.”
“so he’s a coward?” you questioned, he laughed. “yes, but he means well.” jeno said. “besides we both know you’d rather be with him than me, because you keep looking past me and if you continue to do so im gonna kill myself.” He said stepping back, turning around. “just on time, he’s coming over here.” He went to walk away. “have fun.” He smirked walking away.
“you scared him away.” you tilted your head, he knew you were teasing him. “good.” Before you could say something, he grabbed your waist pulling you close to him. “cause I love the guy, but he was pissing me off.” he looked at your skirt. “your skirt is really sheer, anybody could see something if they looked hard enough.” He squeezed your waist, smirking when you bit your lip. “I don’t think anyone is paying attention to me like that.”
Your hands came up to the nape of his neck, he grunted upon feeling you tug at his roots. “please princess, I could see it the moment you walked in here, all the eyes on you.” He said, you chuckled. “you seem jealous.”
“why wouldn’t i?” you could hear his voice deepen. “they’re staring at what’s mine.” His nose was pressed against yours. “what’s yours?” you questioned teasingly. “don’t remember you asking.”
Having enough of this push and pull, he gripped your waist, a small whimper falling from waist, and that’s all he needed. “we’re getting out of here.” He said. “now?” you questioned. “im not fucking you the bathroom of a club.” You felt a tingle below. “we’re going back to mines.”
The damn taxi couldn’t get there faster; saying your goodbye— jaemin not really caring, he was ready to take you back to his apartment. “the taxi is here.” He grabbed your hand— dragging you outside the club, opening the door to the car, letting you get in first; secretly cause he wanted to get a peek at your ass. “fuck, your skirt really is see through.”
You smirked as he got into car after you. “you can’t wear this anymore.” You felt his hand in between your thighs. “ja-jaemin stop.” You whispered. “why, you getting turned on?” it was his turn to smirk, pressing his lips against your temple. “you know this reminds me of the first time we ever left together.” You clenched your thighs together. “dirty girl, thinking about me fucking you again.” You prayed the driver didn’t hear. “don’t worry princess, we’re almost to minds, I can tell you’re getting wet.”
A few minutes later your misery was over; you had pulled up in front of jaemins apartment complex; he paid the driver, helping you out of the car, he stayed close to you so no one was looking at your skirt; that he swore he was gonna burn after tonight— cause after tonight you’d be his.
He didn’t even wait for the elevator door to shut, before his lips was on yours, pushing you against the wall. “j-jaemin , just can’t wait.” He dry laughed. “you’re breathless and panting in my ear, and im the problem.” His hand crept up your top— but the door open. “lets go.”
He pulled you down the hall to his apartment, hurriedly unlocking his door; his cock desperate to be touched as he pushed the door open, pulling you in, pushing up against the door. “fuck I finally got you to myself.”
You both didn’t even bother taking your shoes off, going at it until you got to the room; you got control for a second, pushing him down on the bed, sinking to your knees. “sh-shit princess, you look fucking sexy down there.” He lifted his hips, letting you pull his pants down. “so eager to have my cock in your mouth.” He hissed as he felt the cold air on his length. “you missed it that much?” you kissed his cock, his precum coating your lips, he sighed.
You wrapped your lips around his red mushroom tip sucking. “oh fuck!” he gripped the sheets. “keep going baby, keep sucking my cock.” you slowly went down on him, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat. “fuck, I missed your mouth so much.” You felt his hand tangling up in your hair. “come on princess -fuck- I know you can take it all the way.”
He pushed your head all the way down, your nose pressed against his abdomen; your throat tightening a his cock. “oh shit , keep sucking me baby, im gonna cum.” He grunted. “fuck im gonna cum.” he gripped the shits. “shit im cumming!”
You hummed around his cock, feeling his cum coat the back of your throat with a whimper like moan— pulling off him. “there we go, be a good girl and swallow it.” His cock twitching as he watched you swallow, sticking your tongue out, letting him tap his cock on your tongue. “perfect.”
He pulled you up into a kiss, your poor cunt begging to be touched. “this fucking skirt.” He growled against your lips. “who told you to wear this out?” he pulled the skirt down. “w-wore it for you.” You pouted, he smiled. “yeah?” he threw the fabric across the room, leaving you in your black panties. “wanted to show that pretty ass off for me.” He pushed your legs open, your cunt on display. “look at you, making such a mess.” He pinched your ass. “jaemin, fuck.” You moaned.
He slid your panties to the side. “look at your poor cunt, so wet, begging to be touched.” you sighed feeling his fingers on your slit. “so sensitive, been a while since someone touched this pretty pussy hasn’t it?” you moaned, nodding— even with hanbin, you both hadn’t even had sex, wanting to wait. “good, it’s mine, no one else should be touching it.”
You moaned as he slid his fingers inside. “fuck you sound so pretty.” He huffed, moving his fingers. “gonna stretch you out before i fuck you.” He slowly adding another one, using his thumb to rub your clit. “cum for me princess, make a mess on my fingers.”
You called out his name, letting your orgasm wash over you, legs twitching as he came. “jaemin , shit!” you squeaked as he pulled his fingers out, putting them into mouth before wrapping them around his length, stroking it before slapping it on your clit, slipping inside your warm waiting cunt. “shit, you’re so fucking tight.”
You moaned as cock dragged along your wall; pulling out— a scream involuntarily leaving your lips as he slammed back into you, a curse leaving his mouth; rocking his hips. “shit, I fucking love your pussy.” His hips slapping against yours, the sounds of your dripping cunt and your moans bouncing off the walls as he slammed into your cunt. “fuck keep clenching around me.”
“oh my god.” You gasped as his cock hit a certain spot. “jaemin fuck!” he fucked into that spot over and over. “fuck jaemin im gonna cum soon, please keep going.” He sped up, his hands coming up to your shirt, squeezing your boobs, pushing your knee up, hitting a different spot that made you see stars. “fuck im cumming!” you screamed, legs twitching as you came. “oh fuck let up princess, you’re too tight — gonna cum again.”
He could feel his orgasm approaching, your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice. “sh-shit, shit im cumming.” You felt his cock twitch twice before feeling his cum coat your walls. “oh fuck.” He sighed, holding himself up, looking down at you as you breath. “fuck princess.” He huffed. “you tired me out.”
You rolled your eyes; not liking that he rolled his hip, you whined due to overstimulation. “st-stop it.” You moaned. “m'sorry.” He smirked. “I’ll leave you alone for now princess.” You hissed as he slowly pulled out, watching his cum leak out after him. “so fucking hot.”
After laying there for about 15 minutes in silence, he turned to you, kissing your temple. “mine.” He whispered. “all of you.” He pulled out close. “is mine.”
you flipped your body around, so that your chin was resting on his chest. “I really should make you work for it na jaemin.” You teased. “should make you get on your knees and gravel.” He smirked. “I’ll get on my knees alright, but I won’t be graveling while im down there.” You felt his hand, coming dangerously close to your heat. “no you aren’t touching me down there anymore tonight I am exhausted.”
He sat up. “fine , let’s get you in the shower first, and then get you something to eat because sex and alcohol is quite literally barbaric to go to sleep on.” He helped you up. “look at you being a gentleman for once” he shrugged, kissing your lips, pulling away with a cheeky smile.
“that’s because you changed me.”
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TAGLIST (CLOSED). @nominsgirl @haechansbbg @axo-l0tl @darlingz99 @hollxe1 @lostinneocity @lovebuglissas @stars4yulia @syzavxy @kgyam4 @trashx678 @jarrofkookie @fae-renjun @iheartjayke @foxy-kitsune @kriizztin @bugcattie @thisisnotjacinta
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©️LUVYENI
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beary-rambles · 9 hours
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Distractions
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Summary: Despite how close the two of you are you're sick of waiting around for Jace no matter how much you like him, so you decide you’re going out on a date! but he doesn't like that.
r.q: childhood friends to lovers with modern frat boy Jace and he's like rlly popular and known to go from girl to girl. reader is like really smart and different from Jace so people get surprised when they find out you two are really close. Jace is always dragging you to parties and you’re always at his football games and he gets really protective over you. idek where im going with this 😭 but w smut too, your fics are acc amazing ty for your work 🙏
w.c: 2.5k
c.w: reader has hair (unspecified type, could be a wig wtv), Jace's anger issues, idk what locker rooms look like, cregan <3, fingering (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), not proofread (as always)
a.n: I CANT STOP WRITING FOR JACE every request of him i get becomes my priority, literally when i woke up and saw this i had to get to writing it immediately like there’s smth wrong w me, anyways hope you all enjoy <3, this ones probably not my best T_T
requests are open - masterlist
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Knocking on the door cuts through the music playing out of your speaker while your getting ready. “Come in.” you already know who it is. Your longtime best friend and housemate Jace who comes in with a smile on his face before it turns to shock as he looks you up and down, “woah.”
You finish clamping your necklace around your neck and look at him, “what do you want?” He leans against the door with his arms crossed with an amused look. you ignore how your heart flutters at him and turn away to adjust the dress you currently had on. “i just wanted to tell you im about to head out for the game, its a little odd to get all dressed up for a football game no?” The looks falls from his face as you drop your gaze from his in the mirror and fiddle around with your hair. he says your name breathlessly as he pushes away from the frame and takes a step into the room. You finally lift your head and meet his gaze in the mirror. “I'm not going to the game tonight Jace.”
He flinches as if you had thrown something at him and stutters for a moment his face covered in pure confusion as he brings one of his hands to his neck. “what do you mean you're not coming? you always come! if this is about me eating your leftovers then im sorry i thought you left it for me-” “i have a date.”
There it is. You didn't want to tell him. Hes always been, well a little protective of you, but you mostly blame it on your introverted personality while he's more of a people person. Youve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember but he's never been interested in you not the way you wanted him to be anyways, barely staying single or without a girl on his arm for a second you don't even know the girls names or maybe that's the point. He doesn't bring them around you but you know he's with them when he returns home super late with his hair all messed up. You fear he does it on purpose, he must know you like him and he doesn't bring them around you to make you upset.
You really didn’t want to tell him. You had thought maybe he would have just left for the pregame and just shot you a text and you could have faked some sickness or have pretended to go to sleep early. You walk over to your bed sit down grabbing your shoes to put them on. His silence is off putting. and you don’t dare raise your head to look at him.
“with who?” “This guy from lab, mark.” you finish lacing your shoes and stand up, finally looking at him and noticing the blank look on his face. “Jace-” “I don’t like this. i mean i don’t even know the guy how do we know he’s not some serial killer or something? Mark? Why don’t you just push it off for a couple days, come to the game and ill find out if he’d a good guy-” “I'm going whether you like it or not.” you cut him off. You couldn’t let him stop you from forgetting about him even if it was just for a bit. You grab your purse moving to push past him only for him to grab your arm. “Jace-” “You look beautiful.” The skin where he was holding you burns. You don't say anything as he lets you go and keeps his back turned to you. “text me?”
You try to ignore the pit that forms in your stomach at his sudden change of tone. you want to say something to him, you’re not used to seeing him like this. he would usually be pestering you about how you he asked you out or did you really like him but he was quiet. The sound of a horn outside brings you back to reality and you nod at his back as if he could see you and walk out. Putting on a fake smile as your handed a nice bouquet of flowers from mark, gulping to try and swallow the pit in your stomach.
“who the hell does this guy think he is?” His fist slams into the wall of lockers he's pacing in front of. All his gear is put on, his helmet is laying on the bench next to cregan who can only watch his best friend act like an idiot with an annoyed face. “Who the hell are you to care? Her boyfriend? No. So you have no say in it.” Jace bites his nails as he ignores the urge to hit the wall once more. “she’s my best friend.” “and? shouldn’t you be happy she’s on a date with this guy. i like mark he’s nice. what you like her or something?”
Jace ignores how is blood boils at the idea of you now sitting in your pretty dress smiling and giggling at some other guy that's not him. that doesn’t mean he likes you…. Jace attempts to come up with an excuse in his head about why he's so upset and why he's always been so upset over you going out with other guys, he usually just tells himself he's all worried about you and then he finds some girl to take you off his mind for the night…. that doesn't mean he likes you.
Cregan watches with a raised brow as Jace has an internal conflict with himself. He expected Jace to turn to him and admit it but all he does is grumble to himself and grab his helmet walking away from him. “I don't like her.” Cregan just shakes his head and picks up his own helmet following after him, “that fucking idiot.”
Mark is nice. Hes cute. He told you you could order anything you wanted off the menu since he was paying. He pays attention to you when you talk. Hes not Jace. You try your best to not think about him but you can’t help it. You wonder how the game is going, you’ve never missed one of his games. Maybe you pushed it too far and should have scheduled this date for a different day, but you know if you did Jace would have managed to convince you not to go and you would have fallen into the same cycle you always do. You nod your head and hum as mark tells you some story as you phone begins to buzz. You ignore it but it just keeps on buzzing to the point even mark looks concerned. “You can check it i don’t mind, ill use the restroom.”
You let out a hushed thank you as you check you phone to see what looked like a million texts from cregan.
‘hey i know the two of you are like fighting or wtv but you gotta see him asap.’
‘never seen him lose his mind like that’
‘got himself hurt’
‘nothing too bad but he’s bleeding’
‘know he thinks it cost us the game’
‘now he wont talk to any of us not even me’
‘think his head wasn’t in it’
‘know it’s not my place but he likes you so much’
‘losing his fucking mind over you not being here and being on some date’
‘please, for his sake at least try to talk to him, know you’re busy sorry to bother but I'm worried for him’
You stand out of your seat in shock as your heart begins to race. He was hurt? He likes you? Mark hadn’t come back yet so you open your purse and throw down some bills before running out of the restaurant. You sprint your way back to campus where the field was, thankfully living in a college town meant everything being super close by, you cant hear anything other than your own racing heart and the sounds of your feet as they slam on the floor.
You slam the hallway door open and cregan and some other guys look at you in shock. You stand there and take some steps towards cregan barely being able to catch your breath. Cregan stands up and looks at you shocked, “You ran here?” You just nod as you look at him expectantly, “where is he?” He uses his thumb to point behind him to the locker room doors, “Completely alone, everyone's already left.” You nod as the guys wish you good luck and leave.
You just stare at the doors for a moment, clarity finally hitting you as you realize how ridiculous it was you just left your date and ran all the way here. You couldn't just ignore cregans message. Pushing open the door its dead quiet other than the sound of running water. You walk slowly into the room the door closing behind you louder than you expected causing you to wince before you call out his name. He doesn't answer so you walk around the wall to where the showers were and you can see him outlined in the curtain and almost gasp but you cover your mouth to prevent anything from coming out.
“Jace?” His head finally snaps up due to your voice being so close and he looks in your direction, calling out your name softly in question. “I’m here.” “What are you doing here?” He turns off the shower and you turn your back incase he stepped out of the shower. You attempt to suppress the heat and want that fills your body as you imagine him naked before shaking your head, “Cregan texted, i was worried about you.” He just hums. You wish you could see his face but you hear the curtain open and the sound of him stepping out. “What about your date?”
You freeze as you clutch your purse tighter in your hands as you let out a deep breath. “What about it?” Hes suddenly standing so close to you you can feel his breath tickling your back and you gulp. “You’re here and not there, why?” One of his hands slides down your arm to grab your clenched hand as his forehead hits your shoulder, he's takes a deep breath as he awaits your answer. “Does it matter?” You don't want him to ask because you don't want to have to answer him. you don't want to have to admit to yourself you just wanted to be with him and nobody else.
“You wanna know why it matters? Because i was so fucking mad that you weren’t here i threw the fucking game and hit my head. because nobody makes me lose my mind like you do. Needed you here and you weren’t. You were out with some stupid fucking guy and i was so pissed.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder and you try to suppress the whimper that climbs its way up to your throat. “What are you saying Jace?”
His hands move to wrap around your waist and his head moves to your neck, You can feel his wet naked chest soaking the back of your dress and the heat of his breath on your neck “You know what, That i would go find a new girl to fuck because i couldn’t have you, that i think about you all the time because i like you so much, that it makes me sick when i think about you with a guy that's not me.” He begins to suck at your neck and you now do nothing to hold back the moan you let out as his grip moves to your hips pulling you back against him closer. “You mean it?” His hands slide down to the hem of your dress and he slides his hands under it and upwards pulling your dress up to poll around your hips, “of course i do baby, can i touch you?”
You let out a strained please and he pushes your underwear aside to run a finger down your slit letting out a groan, “fuck..” He quickly sticks two fingers into you and you fall back against him, withering under his touch as he moves at a rough pace, clearly very eager to please you and his other hand comes down from your hips to play with your clit. Your knees almost buckle from the amount of pleasure but he keeps you pressed tightly against him curling his fingers.
You swear he has magic powers because as you were right about to cum he pulls out of you and you whimper. He chuckles at your reaction and twists you around to face him, “want you to come around me.” He pulls you into a heated kiss as you two frantically pull off your dress, kicking it to some random corner of the locker room along with your underwear. “I don't have a condom.” You hear him swear and mumble to himself but you cup his cheeks to stop him, “I'm on the pill.” “It’s not the same-” “what are you not clean?” “of course i am-” “Then fuck me Jace.” He looks in your eyes for any signs of hesitation and when he doesn't find any he quickly pushes himself into you.
You feel like you can’t breathe, he pushes you against a nearby wall and feverishly pounds into you as his hands move to play with your tits. Hes talking but you can’t decipher what he’s saying so lost in your own pleasure. “fuck you feel so good fuck.” You tug on his hair and pull him to kiss you, your on the brink of release as the feeling of his thumbs rubbing on your nipples and the combination of the millions of emotions racing around you. You grip on his hair tightly and he groans, “You close?” You nod you head, “Wait for me.” You open your mouth to complain but his hips begin to move faster and his hands move to your hips to slam you closer to match his thrusts. “Want to come together.” His words are slurred as he’s approaching his release. Your hands scratch down his back as he groans in your ear, taking your ear and sucking on it.
“Come.” He breaths in your ear and you do, he hisses as he feels you pulse against him, your fluid completely covering him and he cant help but follow suit. He kisses you running his hands down your arms. As the two of you settle down he makes no move to pull out of you, seeming content within you.
“I'm gonna get a fucking earful from cregan.”
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misskingshit · 2 days
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𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘵 summary: where he has an interest in a certain pop singer, and he doesn't try to hide it. note: believe me or not i’ve been listening hip hop since Im like 15 y/o, soooo why not do an M&M’s fic?? Let me know if u want part 2! xoxo
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The lyrics of Mr Eminem's new song being mostly about you? That was something you definitely didn't expect.
I get so weak on my knees
Lose all control
Damn, her silhouette
So hot
Fuck bein’ a gentleman
I'm going to fuck her instead
The red carpet at the Grammys has always been a dream for you, you had already won a couple of awards, today... you were excited to be the presenter of one of them.
Best Rap Album.
To say you were excited is an understatement.
You've loved this genre of music since you were a teenager, Tupac, Fifty, Snoop...to name the most classics.
The camera flashes were the only thing you saw, accompanied by many voices that stunned your ears just by hearing your name.
"Y/N! over here!" A reporter called you, without hesitation, you approached.
"Hey how are you?" you asked with a big smile.
"Incredible! How are you? I imagine you're very excited for tonight" he smiles.
"Don't even mention it! I can't wait to call the winner on stage!"
"Do you think Eminem is nominated? He's been on everyone's mouth lately with his latest song..."
Here we go.
"Yeah... well, I'm sure he'll be nominated, I mean, he's fucking Eminem, it would be like a sin if he wasn't, right?" You laughed a little awkwardly.
"What do you think about his last song, about his comments towards you? 50% of people are upset calling Eminem a degenerate..." you didn't let him finish speaking.
"Well...I really like him, I mean, I've always been his fan and it's an honor to be named in one of his songs. Plus I also think that...we all know how he's like, if you don't like his way to be, to think, to speak, the lyrics of his songs, just don't listen to it and that's it, problem solved, I don’t see the point in hating so much on something you can just...ignore" you laugh looking at the camera "Just take things more lightly, not everything is fighting and bad intentions."
You finished your conversation with said reporter and simply headed to your designated seat.
On the other hand, a certain blonde boy was also being attacked with questions regarding his controversial lyrics.
"She's here? Shit, I want to see her," the blonde rapper said, showing a small, very small, smile, turning his head around with the intention of catching some sign of the hot pop singer, you.
"Yes! In fact she will be the one to present the award for best rap album!"
"No shit! Damn man she's here" Em turned around and said to his best friend, Proof.
In a few minutes everyone finished settling into their seats and you both were surprised when you looked at each other, just a few seats away.
You were five seats to the right and three to the back, so you caught him every time he turned his head back a little to look and smile at you.
Until, soon...your moment had arrived, you got up from your seat to head backstage.
By the way, when you walked past the rapper, he didn't try to hide the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off you for even a second.
"And the Grammy goes to..." you created some tension "EMINEN!" You blurted out the name more excited than you should have.
The rapper's reaction might not have been very expressive normally, but he couldn't contain his smile when he knew who would be the one giving to him his award. The rapper and his friends got on stage and it was inevitable that you felt nervous as you watched him walk towards you, with a playful look, as if he knew what he generated in you.
"Congratulations," you whispered when he was close enough to you, taking the grammy as you felt the soft brush of his fingers against yours, he did it on purpose.
You didn't expect him to give you a hug.
"That's all I get?" He whispered back to you, keeping your faces close and your noses touching, his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him as if he didn't want to move away from you.
A great bustle from the public was heard, and it took them both out of the small cloud in which they were.
This was definitely going to stir the waters.
You both walked away, while you greeted and congratulated the rest of his friends (Proof winking at you in the process).
"Wow, shit, this is crazy, thank you so much to everyone who made the production of this album possible, Dr Dre, who always had my back, I will be forever grateful...and my god, damn, thanks to whoever the fuck is that put this beauty in that dress..." he turned to look at you and winked "Y/N Y/L/N ladies and gentlemen, the source of my inspiration for Heat Seeker"
Obviously, you blushed.
The entire audience was applauding, probably already starting to gossip among themselves about the little show between you and Eminem.
Like a gentleman he offered you his hand as he watched you walk down the steps of the stage with great caution. "Thank you," you whispered. “Any time” he smiles at you.
´Til the end of the awards you continued to connect glances from time to time, you also noticed how his friends bothered him every time he turned his head to look at you.
"Hey, Y/N! wait!" listen to yourself behind your back. "Hey," you looked at him softly, "whats up?" He shook his head quickly. "I just wanted to…I mean, normally I wouldn't give a shit, but, I wanted to make sure that the song didn't offend you, it wasn't to upset you…" You interrupted his attempt to apologies "Don't worry, I understand it was just the song, I didn't take it personally, actually, I loved it" you laughed. "You did? I'm glad you're not like the rest and laugh instead of being offended." His attempt to hide his smile failed completely.
It just slips away from him.
Just with you.
A few seconds of silence took over the situation, though it wasn't uncomfortable, your eyes connected and you didn't seem to realize that you had been staring at each other. "Uhm, I was about to go to my hotel," you pointed behind you, "I was gonna change for the afterparty."
"Can I go with you?" He asked you, but before you processed the fact that he wanted to go with you to your hotel, he interrupted your thoughts "I mean, just so then we can go to the party together, if you want" he scratched the back of his neck.
You didn't even need to think about it "Yeah, I would like that" you smiled.
The two of you walked together towards your limo, captured by several cameras, so neither of you doubted that tomorrow you would wake up to a bunch of articles about how Eminem and Y/N left the Grammy's together. But none of you care about it.
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chaifootsteps · 22 hours
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Chai do you think any of the spindlehorse employees find it weird that their boss doesn’t seem to comprehend what Quid Pro Quo even is? Maybe some have expressed it to you, who knows. And needs it explained to her that sexual misconduct in the workplace is bad, not funny, it’s not tragic just for the abuser cause he’s lonely, and isn’t a good basis for a “soulmates” relationship? Did anybody animating Look My Way not have a moment of clarity ‘hey this plot is a little disgusting actually’ ?
Also. Wow. Helluva boss’ “romance” story is actually so toxic that it’s the reason I learned the term for this type of sexual abuse and how to recognise it in the workplace. It’s (unintentionally) told with the type of subtlety Valentino and Angel Dusts story needed. Moments of kindness but also immediate backhanded remarks, power plays, grand romantic gestures mixed with scathing ones and physical boundaries pushed, and just overall confusing behaviour. Like the constant whiplash when stolas appeared in truth seekers. The victim doubting their own memory and his friends saying it’s all in his head.
For others though, younger audiences who love gay ships in any media just for the sake of it being gay, it’s just conditioning them to see it as quirky or the responsibility of the victim to “set the record straight” and negotiate out of sex.
People are actually using it as an example of what coercion is when asked what it is, and many people say it’s taught them how to recognise abuse in their relationship. This is what “stolitz” could have been. A cautionary tale. Stolas and Valentino guilt tripping their employees using various tactics is also educational. Funny enough, if this show gave a damn about its audience that would’ve been a scene in the show, Blitzø convinces himself he’s just in “love” and even with even Millie backing this up, naively finding it cute (being a meta stand in for shippers who don’t really pay attention) Moxxie in discomfort smiles a and says nothing out of fear, and then Loona shows him a info website that even has the term “quid pro quo” in writing for the audience to see and sits down to explain to him he is very much experiencing Stockholm syndrome and abuse. Hell, this crystal thing is just the ‘flowers and chocolates’ part of the abuse cycle.
And I don’t want to go there again but the fact Viv projects onto stolas and Brandon relates to Blitzø a lot when writing him, and the fact Viv shoe horned in that romance in a way he wasn’t in a position to object to since she’s the showrunner? Eerily similar to the characters in universe power dynamic? Yeah that’s a little nightmarish.
Oh lord, remember those days when we all thought that that's exactly where all of this was leading...Blitz being hit with the realization that he is to his employees what Stolas is to him?
Seems like a lifetime ago now.
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itsabouttimex2 · 15 hours
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Ok, ok, HEAR ME OUT-
How about lmk Monkeifam and Bullfam with a Y/N who isn't afraid to throw hands —
Like i mean in a response to trauma or manipulation, becouse i fell it isn't explore enough in this situation -
Sure, your loved that you belived was a friend trapped /kidnapped/gaslight you is heartbreaking and of course you are gonna be sad and more incline to behave butttt-
There is always the other way of absolute rage that comes in once you realized you have been trapped/kidnapped /gaslight ecc- like i don't care anymore, i wanna throw hands, those people are death to me.(even thought this isn't the smarter choice considering the strenght of some of the people here) like them breaking Y/N down so they can comfort them to manipulate them, but then unsurprisingly the get the biggest smack/punch of their life . Just- wow the audacity.
Throwing Hands
Bullfam & Monkiefam
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“…is this some sort of pathetic attempt at ‘rebellion’, Y/N? I am not impressed.”
Your hands straight bounce. Like punching a bag of wet cement, the Demon Bull King’s skin just shifts around under your fists, never breaking or bruising. You only shatter yourself against it, leaving you worn and looking foolish.
He might not even punish you, given that it’s likely that you break a wrist on impact.
“Now, look what you’ve done to yourself, foolish child. Did you truly think your mortal flesh could stand a demon king’s might? Well, now you know better.”
You lost your temper and struck him. Immediately, you learn better than to do that ever again, and he considers it lesson enough.
Surprisingly merciful, all things considered. (Partially because he finds it somewhat funny.)
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I once said in my yandere alphabet that: “Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning or whipping you”. And though I think that viewpoint is usually true…
This changes that. It’s maybe the only situation where he would actively engage in any form of normalized torture “corporal punishment”.
Being physically attacked switches Red from ‘mildly reasonable, if a bit hair-trigger’ to ‘vicious and cruel’. Through brute force alone does he wrestle you into submission, binding your arms behind your back with a pair of metal cuffs.
He tosses you onto the nearest bed and couch before burning the lower half of your clothing off. He then takes up a thin metal rod to utilize in “disciplining” you, sharply lashing it down against your now unprotected skin. He’ll leave puffy, bleeding welts from the top of your rear to the bottom of your thighs, ensuring that you won’t even be able to think about walking for at least a week.
Problem is that not only does it not solve the problem of you being scared and angry, it also just… makes him feel bad afterwards. It breaks him, seeing you weep brokenly over his bed. Blood sluggishly trickles from the skin he’s lashed open, and you scream your lungs out into the sheets as you try to adjust to the pain.
And then he “has to” (wants to, in truth) settle in for some awkward form of aftercare, offering lotion and bandages. When you don’t accept, he forces you to drink a cup of honeyed tea loaded with sedatives because you won’t stop shrieking.
Antiseptic while you’re asleep, a few stitches here and there, then the lotion and bandages he tried earlier. And then a few cautious back rubs, trying to calm your fitful slumber.
“Gods, Y/N… what have I done to you? I… I was just… I was… no, I… I’m sorry.”
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An outright dodge. Princess Iron Fan has no time for your nonsense. For trying, she’ll lock you into whatever room has been set aside for you, barring the door with powerful magic.
One shallowly-filled bowl of food every two days, adding just a little bit more to it each day. One ceramic cup of room temperature water every four hours. A change of clothes every three days. Instead of brute force, Iron Fan teaches you through deprivation.
After a month of this, she might see fit you allow you back out of your room, letting you mingle with the family you have been forced to adopt.
After writing her a letter of apology, of course. Two pages. Pray you have the mind to keep your pencil steady.
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So very many tears to deal with, probably on both ends. MK knows that he’s doing isn’t all that great, sure… but it’s because he loves you!
Can’t you love him back, please? Ok, he’s been manipulating you! Maybe he’s been driving some friends away! Maybe he’s sent a few clones to tail you around the city! But, please, please- you can’t stop loving him! He just can’t risk having you hurt!
“Please, Y/N! You don’t understand! I’m just trying to keep you safe! You can hit me again, hit me as many times as you want! Just- please, Y/N… I need you. Please…”
His last resort is stuffing you in Shuilian Cave, given that you can’t escape with his or Sun Wukong’s help. Maybe a few ropes to keep you in place. He’ll cry with each knot tied, begging you not to hate him.
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Sun Wukong tanks your punch and gives your head a little pat, frowning at the display. “Sorry, bud. Trust me, I know I’m not exactly the good guy here. Go ahead and let it out. I… kinda deserve it, huh?”
The Great Sage knows you have every reason to be upset. Really, you do. All there’s only so much waylaying of emotions to be done, unfortunately. You were going to crack eventually.
He stands firmly in place, one hand rubbing your back while you break your fists against his body, watching you scream and cry. The man is just… unsurprised? He’s starting to realize that he messes up a lot of things.. So just letting you whale on him seems fair, gently trying to shush your angry tears while your skin grinds to bloody pulp against his shredded abdomen.
“How about I make us some tea,” he offers afterwards, surveying your destroyed hands. “And I’ll patch you up. Then… I think you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime for the rest of the week, bud.”
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“Oh, kiddo. Do you know what “screwing up” is? After this, they’re gonna put your picture in the dictionary as an example.”
Macaque does not tolerate having hands laid on him. Not by friends, not by enemies. And certainly not by his little student, who is supposed to be wide-eyed and placid, in awe of his every move and strike.
You are supposed to be sweet and respectful. You are supposed to be kind and loving.
And he’s sure that with a little bit of “training”, he’ll get you back to that disposition.
He’ll snap his fingers with an angry snarl, shadows springing all around you like cold wires. You are gagged with a cold ebon muzzle, both your hands locked inside a cuff of swirling black and purple. You want to act like an animal? Macaque will chain you to the wall by your new muzzle and treat you like an animal.
Maybe a few days spent so on a chain so short you can’t lay down will teach you better than to raise a hand against “the only person who even loves you, Y/N!” ever again.
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loveyourownsmiilee · 2 days
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Hello :) I’m not used to asking questions on here but I’m just curious and I coupdn’t stop myself. How do you think they can turn this whole season the way so it has nothing to do with Buddie. Because since the first episode of season 7 they’ve been writing their lines with kind of a deeper meaning, in a way that can be understood like a foreshadowing in them going canon (like the whole jealousy plot where Buck is still so obviously confused to what/who he wanted, Tommy’s „MY attention?”, the coming out scene when Buck says he’s relieved and he looks anything but). I have my clown shoes on and I don’t see how they can end this season without giving us a hint at Buddie (my guess is Buck will have some kind of feelings realisation about Eddie) but knowing what they did to couch theory and other times where they crushed shippers hopes showing only their friendship and nothing more I’m trying to brace myself for another dissapointment. Like, we are all just so sure about Buddie, but what if the writers throw another curveball at us? And what could that curveball possibly be? Anyways, hope you have a nice day! 😊
Hello! Thank you for taking the time to send me a question! I’m always happy to answer 🥰
Here’s the thing, the last two seasons were all weird bc we had another show runner who point blank made it clear she wasn’t on board with Buddie being romantic in any way. She legit called that will reveal scene platonic and said it’s normal for best friends bc her mother and her female best friend did the same thing. She was allergic to queer people. We have the return of show runner who was the original show runner. He was always pro Buddie even if he never point blank said so. This man killed off Shannon bc he knew the fans were angry with her for leaving her child. He liked a tweet that said Shannon was Eddie’s beard. He’s been proactively and consistently sharing Buddie content before the season even started. Also talking about how much he enjoys Buck and Eddie’a dynamic and is going to try to hit that in every episode. The first episode was very much a reintroduction and what did they do? They showed Buck, Eddie, and Christopher as a whole ass family unit. They made it clear to everyone tuning in that those three are a family together.
Now I think the reason Eddie is soooo heavily intertwined with Buck’s scenes is bc it’s intentional. I also am under the impression, as I’ve said many times recently, that Tim not only spoke to Oliver earlier in the season about his plans, but also Ryan. There’s a deliberate reason as to why Oliver and Ryan are actively promoting this season together. I will die on this hill that Ryan is fully aware. And we had that confirmed when Lou pretty much said it was originally supposed to be Tommy and Eddie but things didn’t work out. So what that actually tells me is that Tim has plans to make BOTH Buck and Eddie queer. And he’s going with Buck first but will eventually get to Eddie. They already planted massive seeds in 7.05 by bringing up religious guilt and all that talk about Eddie’s Catholicism. It’s happening and that is a far better way to tell Eddie’s story than him being kissed by a man randomly. So I just, idk even with this new interest in Buck and Tommy, I truly don’t think it’s something that will divert the writers and show runner from their original plans, I should hope not. They can’t dismiss 6 years of development for a new love interest especially when said love interest is a literal copy of Eddie. So I don’t think they’ll switch gears and I think we’re on the same page as to what is coming up for them. Literally the fact that they made Buck bi confirms to me that Buddie is inevitable.
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