#I probably should do it though. no matter how much they meant to me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

karmaisntab · 2 days

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I got a silly prompt. Lucifier and Alastor are having their snarky banter that turns into a cook off

YES OMFG

That would be so silly I love it lol. I hope this suffices

Pls be aware that I don’t have a beta and I haven’t really looked over this for mistakes due to not really having the time to. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

This is part one at words. I honestly wasn’t expecting it to be this long, but hopefully part two will be shorter. (Fingers crossed, at least)

Here’s the fic:

Tw for intrusive thoughts (though that may be in part 2, I’m not sure if it’s in part 1) and swearing

It was one of the rare days in the Pride Ring where the weather had decided that snow was a thing. Obviously, due to it being Hell, it meant that the only time a demon could actually enjoy the snow was when it had mostly melted away and the weather was thirty plus degrees celsius the next day. This left only a few hours in the morning of snow before it would all be gone in the afternoon, and the residents of the Hazbin Hotel were taking full advantage of what time they had left.

It was early morning, and none of them had had breakfast yet, but they were all having fun, and that was what really mattered to Charlie, and therefore it also mattered to Lucifer.

Everyone was throwing snowballs at each other, apart from Alastor. He was just watching on the sidelines with his creepy smile, and not even joining in! What was the fun in just watching people pelt snowballs at one another? But he probably liked watching just for that reason, the sadistic fuck. He probably got off at watching people hurt each other, though this hardly counted as that. There was probably still a sadistic reason for him not joining in, though. The snow was fun! And so was playing with his daughter! The last time Lucifer had a snowball fight was when Charlie was really young and he and Lilith were still together and it was a day like this! She was so small then, he couldn’t believe how much she’d grown.

The last time he’d had a proper snowball fight like this was back in the garden of Eden, and it had been like it was now, with Lucifer panting and laughing and sneaking up behind people to then fly up and dump snow square on their heads before cackling and flying away, snowballs being thrown at him by others in retaliation. If anything, it was after the snow that sucked. Alastor was really missing out. Maybe Lucifer should make him join in on the fun.

Before he could follow through with that thought, a snowball landed square in the middle of his face. Once it had gone away, it revealed Angel Dust, one of his daughter’s friends.

He had an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry, your majesty, but the opportunity was right there.”

Lucifer smiled, and then laughed. “It’s fine! In fact…”

He then appeared directly behind and above Angel, and threw a snowball into the back of his neck.

“…I think karma was in order!” He laughed as Angel screamed, because he was also smiling, and when the spider demon jokingly glared at him, he stuck his tongue out.

“Damn, what wouldn’t I let that tongue do to me?”

Wait, what?!

Lucifer felt himself try to process what Angel had just said to him, when Charlie raised her arms and called out for everyone to head inside. Lucifer noticed snowflakes were beginning to fall, which meant that they had only a few minutes to get inside. It didn’t usually snow twice in a row in this area of Hell, but it wasn’t impossible, just extremely rare.

And so everyone went inside, and Lucifer made the water and residue snow disappear from his body. When he looked up, he realised everyone else was still wet and staring at him as Alastor handed everyone a fluffy towel. Lucifer awkwardly chucked. “Oops,” he said, and waved his hand. Everyone was dried within an instant.

Radio static noises made Alastor’s irritance known.

“Right, then!” Lucifer awkwardly tried to reduce the tension in the room. “I’ll go and make us all some breakfast! How does pizza sound?”

He was really craving pizza, and if anyone disagreed, he would have to go to his room and cry. Yeah, it was one of those days.

“I was thinking of some jambalaya,” said Alastor.

“Jambalaya for breakfast?” Lucifer felt his face contort to display his disgust.

“Well, it’s nearing lunch time! I was thinking of it being along the lines of brunch, rather than breakfast.”

It was almost ten in the morning! But then again, once everything was cooked, it would be closer to lunch time…

“…It’s still very weird to have jambalaya for lunch.”

“I would think that it would be weirder to have pizza for breakfast!” Lucifer then purposefully failed to mention the many mornings he’d eat leftover pizza from the night before as breakfast when he replied.

“Alright- you know what? I’m going to make my pizza, and you can make your jambalaya, and then everyone’s happy!”

He didn’t realise he had risen his voice until it was too late, and he ducked his head and felt his face begin to burn.

“Well, how about a cook off?” Lucifer glanced up to see it was Angel Dust who’d spoken.

“You know what? That’s a great idea!” He heard his daughter’s voice and couldn’t help but feel his heart become full with all the love and affection he had for her. “I don’t think I’ll participate, mostly because I still need to finalise some paperwork for the hotel, but if anyone else wants to join-”

“I was thinking it could just be between them two. It’ll make things more interesting. You get me?”

“I don’t think that’s really-” Vaggie was cut off.

“I’ll do it,” Alastor said, and Lucifer glared at him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Alastor,” Charlie sweetly said.

“No, no, it’s fine, Char-Char,” Lucifer said, “I’ll make pizza for you. Is anyone here lactose intolerant or anything?”

When no-one raised their hand, Lucifer looked at Alastor.

The motherfucker was slowly putting his hand up.

“What are you allergic to?” Lucifer asked, annoyed.

“Gluten,” said the evil version of the Cheshire cat.

“Okay! I’ll make a gluten-free one and a regular one! How does that sound?” Nobody disagreed, but nobody spoke up, either.

After a moment of the awkward silence had passed, Angel spoke up. “I’ll watch over them. Make sure they don’t get into trouble.”

“Absolutely not!” Lucifer’s eyebrows rose at Maggie’s tone. “I’m going to supervise them, and you can join me, but you better not be actively encouraging their actions.”

“You’re saying actions because you don’t want daddy Lucifer to be mad at the words you use.” Angel Dust once again made Lucifer contemplate his existence. “But I also wouldn’t actually want them to fight- I’m just craving pizza, but Alastor’s jambalaya is something to give up fucking for. Do you know how serious I am? I would give up fucking for Alastor’s jambalaya. It’s a win-win situation, sweetheart.”

Lucifer watched as Maggie’s face twisted. “Please don’t call me that.”

Angel Dust looked regretful. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t realise it made you feel so uncomfortable.”

Lucifer smiled at how Charlie was almost squealing with how happy she was that they remembered their lessons about boundaries.

Maggie was still clearly uncomfortable, but seemed less so. “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”

Angel Dust gave her a thumbs up with his two top hands.

“Right, then,” the radio prick intervened. Lucifer scowled. “I suppose we best get to it, your majesty! It would be terrible if we were to serve our lovely princess and the others later than what is strictly necessary!”

Anger and annoyance flooded their way through Lucifer, making his blood boil like the sulphuric lakes that he fell into when he was cast out of Heaven and the garden with his love ex-wife.

Now he was thinking about Lilith. Fucking great. Why was it that Alastor was making him think about her?

Bitch.

Lucifer gritted his teeth as Maggie agreed. He followed Alastor, Maggie and Angel as they went into the kitchen.

“So then, what will it be, your highness?” He made Lucifer want to kill himself. Or Alastor. He was honestly debating on killing them both, and he would have if it didn’t remind him of Romeo and Juliet as much as it fucking did, for some unknown reason, or make Charlie unhappy.

“I’ll get my ingredients myself, thank you,”

Alastor’s sharp grin was mocking him as he went around and gathered the ingredients.

Then he realised the flour he needed was on the top shelf.

Shit.

He looked towards Alastor, who was staring at him with a predatory grin. Lucifer glared at him and let all of his wings free, and flew up to the top shelf, smacking one of his wings into Alastor as he flew upwards. Grabbing the gluten-free flour, he grinned triumphantly, and flew back down. Alastor was out of reach, sadly.

He gathered all of the ingredients on the side counter and started working.

“Taking your time, your majesty?” Alastor’s grating voice forced Lucifer to take a quick deep breath.

He put on a fake, snarky smile as he turned to look up at the demon. “Unlike you, I like to make sure everything’s in-date and done thoroughly before putting everything together.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call that dough perfection, but if the shoe fits.” Lucifer didn’t look at the wet lump of dough as he added more flour and continued to glare at Alastor. “Oh my, you should certainly try smiling some time. That sour look on your face may affect the dough!”

Wait, fuck, was Alastor flirting with him in his own sick, twisted, cannibalistic-serial-killer way? Lucifer felt like he might puke if he was.

“I think you should try not smiling for the first time in your afterlife. I bet your face muscles must be in so much pain. Or maybe you should shut your pie hole instead. I bet everyone would be grateful.”

“But, your highness!” Alastor replied with that smug, bastard shit-eating grin never leaving his face. “Why must you be so cruel to a lowly citizen such as myself? I could be cursed, for all you know! It would be terribly uncivilised to mock someone who can’t help their certain attributes.”

Lucifer didn’t realise how hard he had been kneading the dough. He flipped it over, and continued to let out his barely-restrained anger.

“Although I do appreciate the concern, I have to say the manner that you’re going about expressing it is far from savoury!” Lucifer might punch him for all the food puns he was making.

“Will you just fucking-”

“Hey!” Maggie yelled over them both, and Lucifer looked at her like a deer in headlights. No, wait, that was Alastor. Lucifer was more like… well, he didn’t know what the snake equivalent of ‘deer in headlights’ was, actually. “Alastor, stop antagonising him.”

“Oh, don’t be such a spoil-sport,” Alastor rolled his eyes, and Lucifer frowned at the blatant disrespect to his daughter’s girlfriend. “We were just having a bit of fun, lighthearted banter!”

Scowling, Lucifer crossed his arms. He then realised what he had done, and uncrossed them before getting rid of any lingering dough and flour on his clothes. Glancing at Angel Dust, he realised the spider demon was eating popcorn, which- fair. Lucifer would have done the same.

“It doesn’t matter. Look, just stop it before I have to go and get Charlie.”

Sharp static noises were heard by Lucifer, coming from Alastor. “Fine,” the radio demon replied.

Lucifer turned away and stopped kneading the dough, lest he overdid it. He then rolled and adjusted it, before putting on the basic toppings of tomato sauce mixed with tomato paste, and then placed a decent amount of cheese on top of that.

He put it in the oven, and set the timer for fifteen minutes.

Then he got to work on the next pizza. He used regular flour, and once the first pizza was done, he brought it out and put the temperature in status so it would still be hot when served.

He felt Alastor’s eyes bore into him while he got on, but since the radio demon didn’t do much else, he couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t let him get on his nerves. For Charlie.

He hoped she still liked pizza. Oh god, what if she didn’t? What if she hates it and doesn’t want anything to do with him because of his terrible memory of what she liked and didn’t like?

Preparing the toppings and putting them in different plates and bowls, he didn’t notice Alastor behind him.

“Lost in thought, your majesty?” Alastor said right next to his ear. Lucifer turned around immediately, but before he could respond, Alastor had gone over to the oven and pulled out his jambalaya.

It smelled delicious.

Worry clawed its way inside of Lucifer. Alastor had apparently done two batches. He wondered what that was about.

Oh, wait, jambalaya was sometimes spicy, right? Maybe he did spicy and non-spicy versions. That would make a lot of sense.

The timer pinged just as Lucifer had finished with doing the olives.

He took out the second pizza, and placed it next to the gluten-free one. He then marked the one with gluten with a small notch on the side by using a knife.

“Are you ready, your highness?” Lucifer turned around to see Alastor holding two bowls full of jambalaya, and Nifty holding what looked like a bowl of salad.

“Yes, I am,” Lucifer replied. He picked up both of his pizzas.

The trio went to the table, which was already made, and set their respective dishes down.

Lucifer turned to get the toppings for his pizzas, only to see Angel Dust and Maggie walk through the kitchen door carrying them.

He gave them both a genuine smile. “Thank you!”

He laughed awkwardly as they smiled back.

Just as the pair set them down on the table, the rest of the residents came in and sat down.

“This looks so good!” Charlie exclaimed, and Lucifer beamed.

He only sat down once everyone else had, but then he realised that he’d forgotten to tell everyone which pizza was which.

“That one is gluten free, and that one is regular,” Lucifer said, pointing to the one without the notch and then the one with. “They should taste the same.”

“Thank you, dad! These look delicious!” Charlie exclaimed. Lucifer blushed a bit as everyone around him told both him and Alastor how delicious it all looked.

“And I should warn you all that the bowl near Charlie is not spicy, whereas the one in front of Husker is full of it!” A twinge of annoyance made Lucifer grit his teeth together slightly as the radio-fucker spoke.

He glared at Alastor, who was on the opposite end of the table from him.

Bon appetit, Lucifer thought, glaring daggers into Alastor.

He took a bite of his pizza as everyone around him dissolved into chatter. He never let his eyes linger away from the radio demon for too long. He didn’t trust him. He most likely never would.

But Charlie did. He didn’t know why, but that was all that mattered to him.

Part two isn’t out yet, but I’ll update when it is!

#Lucifer does not know that Alastor is aroace #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #aroace alastor #Alastor is not flirting I don’t think he even knows the meaning of the word #but I think he’d let Lucifer interpret it as that as long as it angers him lmao #food puns #if you couldn’t tell #I don’t really cook #much less pizza from scratch or jambalaya #but I have done pizza before at least once #so that’s why it’s in Lucifer’s pov #tw intrusive thoughts #I mean he has depression so #tw swearing

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sovamurka · 1 year

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Currently listening to a song that was in my shuffle. It reminds me of my friends. I remember that it was one of the songs that we sang on my friend’s kitchen floor after our graduation. We were exhausted but quite happy that we made it. Too bad that now this song brings me only sadness. No, it isn’t about my friends, we never had a fallout, no, it’s just the realization that you can’t go back to the times when everything was a little bit softer and brighter.

#and you also can't go back to the times when the singer didn't hate you for being from a certain country 💀#I kid you not I listen to his songs and there are two wolves in me #the first one remembers all the sappy moments you had about it. your nights out. your first kiss with your best friend. your laughter.#the second one remembers that the one who sings this song told you to kill yourself #quite literally. I still remember him screaming those exact words. his cause came from a right place but the way he dealt with it... oof #and in this case you're probably supposed to delete all their songs etc. but I just can't bring myself to do it and I hate myself for it #I probably should do it though. no matter how much they meant to me.#I won't tell you who it is just... I don't want anything to do with him anymore.

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unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months

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that moment when: everyone's lives are restricted and constricted and these imposed consequences are attributed to anyone's continual individual failures to seek, find, and follow the Correct Path through Life, and so everyone is left on their own to only be seeking & finding these failures as well as the only answer to how their lives can be better....versus Not seeing the world as the free marketplace meritocracy of everyone's personal failures/successes, nor everything in your own life, and thus not forever having to scrutinize Where You Must Be Bringing It Upon Yourself by fucking up or at least failing to do the correct thing, and exist only in perpetual punishment for your ongoing failure and occasional temporary reprieves from it. recognizing everything that wasn't & isn't & wouldn't be [this is because you're bringing it upon yourself] and thus having more capacity & capability to look at the realm of your personal individual self, reality, experiences, life through the perpetual instances of seeking, finding, and following your own needs/wants through one's inherent personhood and exercises of autonomy and recognition of where & when & how one recognizes moments of their existing freely & in more resonant genuine alignment with themself, you know? endless examples to be found in endless fractals of [where & how are people's lives made smaller]. and that of course this doesn't preclude the ability/option at any time to question one's choices, since you'll be able to find more Actual choices available to you (and, also crucially, find more actual choices made by others that are in the pursuit of limiting Yours) to look at, and people getting to exercise their autonomy isn't the same as "everyone doing anything they want regardless of how it affects others" since that [how does it affect others?] element instead being Regarded would be able to lead to recognizing that, in fact, an effect might be the infringement on others' autonomy, hence: There's A Problem....like the ability to just go ham with [questioning???] anything in existence, certainly including oneself, b/c the "norm" is such that rather you're only supposed to be able to question yourself for your failings (or those positioned as less than, thus, beneath you) and not even have the language to express a questioning of aspects of life beyond that b/c stop calling anyone "cis" they're just Normal, Just Be Normal and it would all be fine

#brought to you by: i think one of my feelings lately of A Shift is in my less than ever running this like continuous background function of #looking for Thee Answer (just like the black suits) in any & everything that could serve as the Key to like. whatever could fit into place #to like set things on a [hell yeah. life? better] path. juxtaposing this recent sense of things with the [lol. in retrospect i Do see a new #context wherein i can Recognize smthing abt myself] past going on of like. granpa greentext story be me be fifteen i'm in college b/c i hat #school i also mostly assumed i'd probably fail out freshman yr but didn't. i've never known what i'd wanna major in & as a sophomore i'm de #supposed to figure it out in time for scheduling my jr yr classes (though Ideally have known from the start / been scheduling thusly) & so #many evenings during dinner i'm furiously perusing the daily print news as i've been doing for some yrs to Keep Up W/Current Events but now #also consciously like ''boy i hope in the course of doing this i stumble across some info that sparks some eureka moment of Getting what my #major should Obviously be so i can understand the rest of my life around [do job] b/c i sure as hell don't understand it around [be married #much less [be parent] so one option remains obvi'' whereas now i realize like lol you Were figuring out a guiding light in doing so & that #perspective being honed was one of Having A Political Analysis times....which also provides another Example of [only being able to interpre #what makes your life & your world the way it is: via Your Personal Failures to have already Had Better] in that just like i often forget i #misguidedly (but also reasonably; clearly also using & seeking that autonomy & freedom) tried to have a better existence within the #situation i was in by Coming Out As Trans to parents via an email that was then not directly discussed ever; b/c any legitimate discussion #was not permissible like how so many matters of [supposed correct existence] are Unspeakable so as to be Unquestionable #languaging that succeeds & sustains itself having to be expansive / flexible / creative / evolving too. Making Up Words hell yes #anyways so i also forget i Did try to propose majoring in things that Did more approach what i was suspecting were things i'd wanna do #but even the first like expression of anything on the periphery of that was met with ''no you'd hate it b/c you'd have to deal w/Stupid Ppl #every day'' (by which was meant; with believed inherent synonymity: poor people) & then i also will oft forget i pushed for it any further #which i Know i did b/c of it next being met with angry & aggressive ''i've never heard you talk abt that interest before So''#(wonder why? withholding info to protect yourself=finding room in one's life for existing more freely; exercising the autonomy to Do That)#but it's easy to forget b/c The All Encompassing Perspective was rather [i'm sure Failing to just Know my major for the sole possibility fo #defining one's entire life: The Correct Dream Job] & then Failing to push it or just express it & be understood ''correctly'' even if i Did #have any ideas in that realm. vs seeing how i Was succeeding & was recognizing shit & pursuing it & looking out for myself & etccc #it's undeniable lol like the framing even that Blaming Oneself is an autonomy seeking response. b/c your autonomous power in your own life #sure Would be more immediate if Everything Really Was Your Fault (when ofc really this is abt obscuring & denying the responsibility of ppl #who have the power over others' lives & then have to act like this is all the fault of the Others; they themselves have never Truly Chosen)#no victim blaming no condemnation of anyone's ''passivity'' here babey #re: the undeniability it's how like. maybe you've only Just realized you're not cis but in doing so it's like ''oh That's what i already #recognizing in various ways throughout my whole life'' it's all always Been there/going on & perspex shifts + new lenses can reveal them

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penny00dreadful · 1 year

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So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️

We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!

AO3 link for those asking! 🖤

Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.

That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.

The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.

And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.

If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.

But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.

Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.

The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.

A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.

Her people.

Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.

The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.

“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.

The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.

“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”

The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”

“Eddie, what-”

Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”

Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.

Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.

“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”

“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.

“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”

“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”

“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”

“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”

“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.”

“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.

Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.

“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.

“Oh shit. This is your friend?”

Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“He’s… he’s really pretty.”

That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”

“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”

Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”

Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”

“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”

“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.

“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”

“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”

“Inklings? Is that the place?”

Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.

“Is it far?”

“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”

“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?

“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.

“Would that be okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered.

“I think… I think I just want to get home.”

“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.”

He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it.

This fucking guy.

He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.

“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”

“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.

“Likewise.”

“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.

“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”

“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.

She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.

“Shall we?”

Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.

"So."

"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"

“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”

“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”

“Agreed.”

“Is it because of a bad ex?”

Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.

Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.

“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”

Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.

Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.

He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.

“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.

“Yeah, sure.”

They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.

She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”

Robin, where are you?

Are you okay?

I’m on the way.

Please be okay.

Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.

“Robbie.”

Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”

“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”

“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”

“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.

“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.

Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’

Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’

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chilumi-shipper · 30 days

Text

Not Meant for the World

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Servant!Reader

Summary: You fell for him, he fell for you, it was the typical start of a relationship, only problem is… well, he's him and you're you. A Commissioner who holds power over the nation, and a servant that basically amounts to nothing in the whole scheme of things. It was a mutual decision to keep your relationship a secret, only to be kept within the dead of night in his bedroom, evaporating before the sun could even rise for another day. But then… Ayato seems so keen keeping it a secret forever, letting the stream of wedding proposals and love letters flood in, going through great lengths to make sure the information doesn't leak out, almost like he's ashamed of being with someone like you. You could only take so much of that.

Tags: Angst no Comfort, Hidden Relationship

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"You should probably go back to your quarters." As you were snuggled up to your lover's chest, enjoying his warmth under the covers of his bed, he spoke.

"But it's barely time." You whined, pressing your body closer to his and rubbing your face on his chest.

Back then, he would cave, he would chuckle and wrap his arms tighter around you, saying that you could stay for a little bit more and that he didn't really want you to leave anyway.

Now… he pulls away from your embrace, sighing as he looks you in the eye.

"It would be best to elliminate all the chances of us being caught, and I believe that some of the servants have been getting up early to start their shifts." He reasoned, his hold faltering as you feel his arms slip off you.

You felt a clenching pain in your chest as you slowly get up, looking around his room, you didn't want to leave, and yet when you looked at him, you felt like you were being pushed away.

"Okay… I guess I'll get going now…"

This is the part where he would usually kiss you and remind you that he loves you…

It never came…

You left his room without another word.

…

"Is it perhaps too much to visit a festival together?" You asked, not expecting a pleasurable answer from the Yashiro Commissioner sat on his office chair and drinking a cup of tea you prepared for him.

"I believe it is, being seen in public in a non-professional setting would be rather suspicious if it's just the two of us." Ayato responds firmly, oblivious to (or perhaps just ignoring) the frown that formed on your face.

"We've been out together multiple times…" You reasoned, though you sounded unsure, not wanting to sour his mood and lessen your chances of getting him to agree to your proposal. "We haven't been on a date in a while."

"The families offering up their daughters to me are very vigilant of my public movements, suspicions will arise if they were to see me with any lady for no particular reason." He did not even spare you a glance, answering swiftly as he always does.

Yet again, you fail to persuade him to be with you. You prepared to say more, but a knock came before your words.

A guest came to the estate, a father of one of the many noble ladies offering their hand in marriage.

Long story short, he's here to talk marriage business, as these fathers always do.

When the guest left for a moment, "My lord, I just need a few more minutes to talk to you." Many times, you have tried to intervene, not satisfied with how your conversation earlier abruptly ended.

"Y/N, there are matters more important than this. Wait a moment." He pays you no mind, but you have had enough. "You are being too obv-"

"Ayato, stop." You spoke firmly, freezing him in his place. "I'm still talking to you." You approached him, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, he turned around to face you, his eyes held an unfit expression for him, almost like nervousness. "Y/N, let's not do this now…"

"Do you still want to be with me?" You asked impulsively, stripping the formalities and simply talking to the man you knew as your lover. Your eyes fill with tears, looking at him being lost for words. You hoped his answer would be immediate, that he would exclaim that why would you even ask such a question.

As you stood there, "Lord Kamisato, come along, don't let the servant keep all of our time." The guest came back, standing beside Ayato, who had yet to say anything.

No words were spoken, but the Commissioner knew that right there, right in front of the unknowing guest, in your watery gaze, he had a choice to make.

"Why don't you get us some tea in the meantime?" The guest spoke up again referring to you, but you have no intention of moving until your lover finally speaks up.

With a gulp, Ayato stood his ground. "Yes, please prepare us some tea, Y/N. No more of your nonsense."

A single tear, that's what you allowed for him to see as you nodded silently. But as you prepared the tea, your vision was blurry from the neverending tears, your sobs couldn't be controlled as you struggle to catch your breath.

But you needed that, you needed that to remind yourself that you are merely a servant.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The Yashiro Commissioner sat on his bed that night, looking at the door to his room. His heart was beating fast, hoping for it to open and show the figure of his lover, though the odds are against his desires.

He hoped that maybe you'd spare him a chance, that you'd walk into the room and tell him that you'll allow him to show you how you much he truly loves you.

The door remains close. And so does his heart begin to ache. Ayato didn't sleep that night, he merely lied down and looked up at the ceiling, trying to imagine your warmth embracing him, trying to make it seem like your side of the bed wasn't left cold.

…

"My Lord…" His eyes looked up from the document he's been staring it for the past hour when he heard your voice… calling him in such a cold manner. You said nothing more, placing a tray of tea and pastries on an empty spot on his desk.

"Ahh, thank you…" Ayato looked at your face, hoping to see your usual smile whenever you served him his afternoon tea, yet your face held nothing but a blank expression. You merely bowed at him, before leaving without another word.

Your name was at the tip of his tongue, and his entire being screamed at him to just say it. He wanted desperately to call for your attention, but, though he did not want to admit it… he was scared…

You stopped in your tracks, remembering something that you had to discuss with him. Ayato, ever so perceptive of your actions, perked up.

"You have a meeting with the head of the Tenryou Commission later at noon, something about an agreement with regards to your relation with his daughter." You did not bother to face him to give him the reminder, opting to walk away once you finished your sentence.

The Yashiro Commissioner's face fell as he watched you leave the room, his heart still heavy, and his mind cursing at him for not having the guts to talk to you properly.

…

The pain felt more real once he entered his room for the night.

The place has been wiped clean of your existence, the covers have been changed so not even your scent lingered, some of the clothes you kept in his closet are gone, the vase of flowers you like to decorate his nightstand with is gone…

The framed picture of the two of you that sat on his nightstand is gone…

It felt suffocating…

With a sigh, Ayato closed the door, not wanting to see such a sad space, he instead went back to his office.

As he sat on his chair, he opened one of the drawers of his desk…

A smiled couldn't help but form on his face, a bittersweet one, when he saw the picture of you that he kept there a long time ago.

He laid his head on his arms on the desk, your picture next to his face. He figures that it was the only way he can sleep without feeling the suffocating emptiness of his room weighing upon him.

…

Today is the day the festival you were so excited about starts, and it's already been arranged for quite a while that today is your day-off. "…Y/N was really hoping that I'd join her at the festival." Half of

Thoma's words were muffled, but he could make out your name and the festival.

The blond retainer was asking for a day-off as well, to go with you.

Something uncomfortable boiled in Ayato's core, you asked him to join you back then, and he said that he couldn't. Yet, all he wishes now was to accompany you, to be by your side and not have to think about keeping your relationship a secret.

"With Y/N…?" Ayato asked, his voice laced with disappointment that did not escape his retainer's ears.

"Is something the matter, my Lord?"

Truly did his entire being want to disapprove of Thoma's request, he wants to go to you and offer to go with you himself.

"No, I'm quite alright, Thoma…" The Yashiro Commissioner heaved a sigh. "I'll allow your request."

You spent your day at the festival with Thoma, and it was obvious that you enjoyed it given the large smile that was plastered when you got back to the estate.

Meanwhile, Ayato spent his day at his desk, looking at meaningless paperwork while dreaming of being hand-in-hand with you at the festival, imagining that you would eat your heart out with all the streetfood available, watch the firework show when nighttime falls, and dance slowly at the festival music at midnight when everyone else already left.

That night though, he approaches you, his heart pounding when he caught your attention. "May I… ask you to sleep next to me again?"

He was tired, he could only take a week of sleeping in his office because his room haunted him too much. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know how to even start explaining himself, doesn't know how to win you back, to say that he does choose you over any form of nobility that he has.

You smiled at him… emptily.

"I'm your servant, my lord. If you wish for me to, I will."

So you did, you slept next to him, he hugged you tightly, snuggling you up to his chest, yet you refused to hug back, to nuzzle in his embrace like you used to. You merely did as you were requested.

Ayato tried to ignore the tightening of his heart just before sleep and exhausted took over him.

But he couldn't ignore the chill he felt when he woke up hugging nothing. It's just as it should be, the servant listened to her lord, and now she left to do her other tasks.

It was crazy to hope a relationship like yours could work out. Kamisato Ayato felt a few tears fall from his eyes, now, he wished for you to stay.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Yo, it's 3am and I'm gonna sleep now.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin imagines #genshin impact ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato angst #genshin ayato

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sometimesanalice · 1 month

Text

Sun Stroke

Summary: It’s been a few months since you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and moved to San Diego. And when Rooster and his teammates introduce you to Dogfight football, you know you’ll never be the same again. Hard pressed and out of sorts, you take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw/Female Reader

Length: 8k

Warnings: smut, mentions of masturbation, an ode to the jorts.

(author's note: this is a prequel to the 'Like I Can' series, however it can be read on it's own!)

Bradley Bradshaw was a dead man.

The hangover you’d woken up with was 100% his fault for pressing that final Blue Moon into your hand last night at the Hard Deck.

It had been a couple years since the last time the two of you had seen each other in person and even longer since you’d both lived in the same city, but he knew you. And he without a doubt knew better than to order you another drink when you were already fighting back the giggles.

But what were you going to do, not drink a free beer paid for by your longtime best friend? Not to mention the way he’d teasingly called you a lightweight in a way that sounded a little too much like a dare.

You’d only moved to San Diego a little over a month and a half ago, and maybe if you were going to own up to the role you played in earning this headache, you probably should have known better than to try and keep up with the group of aviators. But since he’d been the one to drive and you were having a good time, you’d thrown caution into the wind and cheers-ed his glass with your own with a grin.

Bad choices shouldn’t taste so good.

It was a citrus-kissed mistake you were paying for now with your head pounding as you rushed around your apartment in a frenzy trying to throw your things together to get out the door to meet everyone at the beach. It’s a feat that would have been so much more manageable if you hadn’t been surrounded by a sea of cardboard boxes, all in various stages of unpacked disarray. It’s an inconvenient maze made by your own procrastination.

Those pain relievers you’d popped not too long ago couldn’t kick in quick enough.

You were running late. You hate being late.

And the way your phone keeps pinging is stressing you out even further. You know it’s Bradley and you’ve been ignoring it in favor of trying to get your act together. It goes off again, barely a minute since the last text had come through, but this time you pause your rummaging to check it.

🔴 Rooster, 11:10 AM: where are you??

🔴 Rooster, 11:17 AM: on a scale from 1-10 how bad is your hangover?

🔴 Rooster, 11:22 AM: tick tock, kid.

🔴 Rooster, 11:23 AM: bring me a coffee?

You roll your eyes at the nerve of that last one. He was going to have to beg Jimmy to make him a tar-like pot from the Hard Deck’s ancient coffee maker if he wanted any. If you were suffering through a hangover, he could suffer through being undercaffeinated.

It didn’t help that you were feeling more high strung than usual. Your vibrator had died before you could finish last night and you’d meant to buffer in time for a quick orgasm this morning, but then you’d slept through your alarm.

You hadn’t had sex since you’d broken up with your ex almost three months ago. While you were doing just fine on your own, you were getting tired of the feel of your own hands and fingers.

When your boss had mentioned the promotion that he wanted to put you forward for, you were elated until he mentioned it would involve relocating to the West Coast office. You’d been on the fence, it was the next step towards your dream job, but you were content with your life in Boston. That night when you had casually mentioned the possibility of it to your boyfriend at the time, it seemed clear to you that it would be an either-or situation.

Either you’d stay in Boston with him or you’d move to San Diego on your own.

Not wanting to rock the boat, you didn’t mention it again. Even though you were still weighing the choice in your mind. It wasn’t until a phone call with Bradley, that you’d finally settled on the right choice for you. After breaking it off with your ex, the two of you had essentially lived like roommates until you’d left without a look back.

At the time, you thought it had been a brilliant idea to use some of your less worn clothes as packing protection for your things. But now as you desperately dig through your third box labeled Bedroom looking for the sporty black and white one piece with the zipper that you know you have but can’t seem to find, you’re starting to think you might be the biggest idiot on the West Coast.

The only beach appropriate thing you’d been able to find in your frantic searching was the bright red scalloped bikini you’d bought a few years ago for a bachelorette party in Tulum wrapped around a set of pretty glass candle holders. And while it made your boobs look great, it was much sexier and revealing than what you were going for to meet up with the Daggers on their home turf.

When your phone dings yet again, you finally admit defeat and give up on your search. In a huff, you put on the bikini, giving the bow behind your neck a good tug before pulling up your denim shorts with a couple jumps, trying to speed things along.

Earlier, you’d found the sticky note that said “FRIDGE!!!” underlined a few times by a heavy hand on top of the beach bag you vaguely remember packing for yourself the night before. The soft cooler bag covered with cheerful palm leaves had been haphazardly shoved onto the top shelf and was now sitting by the front door with the rest of your things, including the low sitting pink and white striped beach chair that Bradley had given to you as a ‘Welcome to San Diego’ gift.

You take one more passing glance around your apartment you look for any stray item that might have been missed- not that you’d be able to spot anything anyways through the cardboard battleground that is your apartment- and then you’re shoving your feet into your sandals and flying out the door in a flurry.

Pulling into the private lot of the Hard Deck, you park in the open spot next to your best friend’s blue Bronco. The bar wouldn’t be open until later, but Penny had given the group of aviators’ carte blanche parking perks. It was something you were especially thankful for as you slung the heavy bags over your shoulder.

The warm coastal breeze and briny salt air were clearing the cobwebs from your head.

Even though the feel of it drifting over your bare skin reminded you of just how exposed you were in just your skimpy bikini top and frayed denim shorts, you’d only realized when you were halfway to the beach that you’d forgotten to put a shirt on in your haste to get out the door. But you were sure you’d packed an oversized linen shirt to cover up with if the sun got to be too hot.

As you pass by the well maintained, but sun-bleached patio, you see Penny sitting at one of the picnic tables with her laptop. She waves when she sees you and you raise the iced latte you’d stopped for up to her in greeting, as much as you can without having the beach chair slip off your shoulder.

Further down the beach, you see the group of energetic aviators. Nat looked a bit like an orchestral conductor the way she is directing the finishing touches on the set up. You weren’t too late, just fashionably so, but you were already planning to buy them all a round of drinks later anyways. Even though it’s just a casual hang out, you still want to make a good impression with Bradley’s friends.

It was been one of the things you’d been most worried about moving here. Rooster had opened the door for you to get to know his friends, but you didn’t want to be just an extension of your best friend in the way it felt like you had been in high school. You really liked these people and wanted to make your own friendships with them too.

You’re more than regretting the choice to try and bring everything in one go, with the way the sand is shifting under your feet and how your beach bag and chair keep bumping against each other with every step you take. And just as you’re contemplating ditching them for the moment to circle back for after you get rid of the cooler bag that’s weighing you down, you see Fritz nudge Bradley, pulling his attention away from his phone and pointing in your direction.

The wide grin that appears on his face is immediate and you feel the corners of your own mouth pulling up. California looked good on him. He seemed happier and lighter here, more like the boy you knew from back home. The one he’d been before he lost his mom and the man who’d helped raise him. You hope that one day it’ll look just as good on you. He gives the other man a quick pat on the back before he’s setting off towards you in an easy jog.

“Hey, where’s mine, kid?” Bradley asks, nodding to your drink with its ice cubes now more than half melted before effortlessly taking the heavy bag from you.

You’re so grateful for his help- now that you can feel your arm again- that you almost forget that you’re supposed to be annoyed at him.

“You know what you did, Br-adshaw,” you retort, catching on his name and hoping he could feel your attempt at a glare from behind your dark sunglasses.

It was a change you were still getting used to. You’ve known him since you were eight, he’s always been Bradley to you. But you’d caught on very quickly that everyone else here only ever seemed to call him ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’. And he’d grinned so widely the first time you’d called him by his callsign that it seemed like a confirmation to the question you’d been too apprehensive to ask.

The man didn’t even have the courtesy to look guilty, the all too knowing smirk on his face confirmed everything you already knew, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm, sure,” you say, flatly pressing your lips together in an unamused line. You’re tempted to flip him off now that you have a free hand, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He tugs his sunglasses down his nose with a finger to look at you from over the top of them, more serious now, “But you had fun, right?”

And it’s too hard to keep up with the façade of being mad at him when he is looking at you so earnestly. When you were younger you had a higher tolerance against those big brown eyes, his ‘cow eyes’ as Carole had called them. Now that you lived here maybe you’d have a fighting chance against them again, but you felt yourself giving into them.

You were still getting use to the fact that you got to be around him all the time again, and sometimes it felt like you were relearning him as an adult. Your friendship with him felt just as familiar as it always had, but you could admit it was also different now.

“A little too much,” you say with a light laugh at your own expense, “But yes, I had fun, Rooster. I really like your friends.”

He smiles, pleased. “Ok, good.”

Bradley slings an arm over your shoulder and the two of you start walking towards the rest of the group. You hold your drink up for him to take a sip as a sign of truce.

He grimaces at the taste, “Why does it taste like I just licked some of that potpourri shit my Grandma Rose used to keep in her house?”

“Maybe because it’s a lavender latte,” you say, taking a smug sip of your own now that the two of you were even. The coffee shop you’d stopped at has become your favorite in the area. It was a little thing, but you liked having a go-to spot when so much still felt so new to you.

“You’ve only been here a few weeks and they’ve already got you drinking the California Kool-Aid? Coffee should taste like coffee, not a damn flower,” he gripes.

“You sound like you’re seventy. Next, you’ll be yelling at kids to get off your grass,” you tease, nudging his ribs with your elbow. “And I’ll have you know I liked these before I moved here. It was just an extra selling point getting one this morning because I know you aren’t going to drink it all when my back is turned.”

He barks a laugh, “Now that I know there were ulterior motives involved, I might just have to help you finish it.”

You stop and push your sunglasses onto the top of your head, giving him a firm look, “You’re still on friendship probation, tread carefully where my coffee is involved.”

Bradley playfully reaches out for your coffee, “You don’t scare me, kid.” You attempt to push him away, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

The two of you had basically reached the rest of the group. The gentle crash of the waves was mingling with the sounds of Fleetwood Mac playing from a speaker and the bursts of easy laughter of his friends. Jake is a few feet from the two of you at the edge of the set up as he works to cover himself with sunscreen, the mist sparkling on the fine hairs on his forearms before he rubs it in.

“You might have those curls figured out now, but I bet my mom still has photos of you with that terrible middle part from when you were thirteen. Don’t mess with me, Bradshaw.”

His head snaps towards you, “Your potpourri coffee is safe, I promise.” You can’t help but laugh at the panic in his voice and the way he warily eyes Jake, clearly not wanting the other man to get his hands on any potential blackmail material.

The sound of a low, exaggerated whistle pulls your attention over to Hangman. “Lookin’ good, kid,” Jake drawls, a pair of dimples punctuating his lazy grin on either cheek, “Red is definitely your color.” His pecs and abs are gleaming in the sun. He’s not your usual type, but it’s working for you more than it should.

God, you really needed to get laid. Or at least get a more reliable vibrator.

“Nah, I’m not having any of that,” Bradley warns, pointing a finger at him, “You cut that shit out right now, Seresin.”

Jake puts his hands up in surrender, but that sharp smile gets even wider, “Just givin’ the lady a compliment, Rooster, don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.” He sends you a wink and you think you hear Bradley grumble something under his breath.

The blonde with all his pretty boy looks was absolutely a shark when it came to finding ways to get under Rooster’s skin. You’d heard your best friend complain about him for years. And even after learning about their truce, you hadn’t been too sure about meeting him in person. But ultimately his easy charm had won you over pretty quickly. You could admit that now you had a lot of fun teaming up with Jake and riling Bradley up.

“Thank you, Jacob,” you sing, tugging on Rooster’s arm towards the spot that had been left open for you in between his things and what you recognized as Natasha’s oversized beach towel.

You gingerly balance your coffee on the arm of his deep green beach chair before dropping the rest of your things into the sand and take in the carefully curated beach arrangement.

Fritz and Harvard are off to the side casually tossing a frisbee back and forth between them. Callie and Nat were facing off against Coyote and Payback in a game of cornhole laughing as they shit talk. Yale looks like he is napping, but you spot the AirPods in his ears, probably trying to listen to the audiobook he’d recommend to you last night in peace. Next to him is Fanboy, who looks pretty engrossed in the comic book he’s reading. And Bob was making his way back up the beach towards the group from where he’d been down by the water.

“I’m going to go offload that and say ‘hi’ to people,” you tell Rooster. Taking the heavy cooler bag back from him, you set off towards the designated grazing area in the middle of the ocean-facing semicircle Nat had corralled people into, greeting his friends as you pass by.

You were more than a little curious about tipsy you had packed for the day. Unzipping the bag, the first thing you spot is the last thing you ever would have expected to find for a day at the beach.

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, hesitating for a moment, unsure whether or not to add it to the rest of the things in the cooler.

“Are those pickles?” You turn to see Mickey standing behind you.

You hold the jar up for his inspection, “I can’t tell you what I was thinking by bringing them. Do you think I should put them in?”

He surprises you when he whoops and takes the jar from you, holding it above his head like a championship belt, “Yo, Payback! Look! The kid brought pickles!”

“Which kind?” Reuben calls back, taking a pause from the game with a beanbag still clutched in his hand.

“Claussen! The whole kind!”

“Oh, hell yeah!” he hoots, sending you a thumbs up. “Grab me one too, Fanboy.”

Mickey twists open the lid with a satisfying pop and fishes one out. “These are the best, thanks!” he says before excitedly hustling off towards Reuben to share, the cornhole game now on an indefinite pause.

You hadn’t been too sure what tipsy you had been thinking, but apparently the beach pickles were destined to be a hit. Either that or you weren’t the only one trying to shake off the tail end of a hangover this morning.

Bob swings by to grab a soda, but stops to help you unload the rest of the things from your bag. As the two of you work together, he tells you about the crab he’d found near the patio of the Hard Deck that he’d just released back into the ocean.

Both of the large coolers were pretty packed, so no one would be going hungry or thirsty today. You make a note to shop around for one of your own and maybe a beach umbrella since no one else seems to have one. You were more of a sand, sea, shade type of girl.

Once everything is all put away, you grab a couple bottles of water and make your way back to your friend. You catch him taking another curious sip of your coffee, this time he nods like the taste might be growing on him. You let it slide because you see that while you’ve been away he’s set up your chair for you.

“Are you feeling peckish, Rooster?” you ask, plopping the water in his cup holder, eyeing the pilfered bag of trail mix he must have pulled out of your tote bag in his hands.

“What?” Bradley shrugs, unapologetically. You roll your eyes at him affectionately as he helps himself to another handful. “God, I’ve missed this. Japan has so much good food, but one of the perks of being back stateside after a year and a half is all the snacks. I’ve been going to Trader Joe’s like twice a week since I’ve been back.”

You still didn’t know anything about the mission that had brought him back to Top Gun. That phone call you’d had with him the night before he’d shipped off had played in your mind on repeat until he’d texted you that he was back safely in San Diego. The only thing you had been able to glean is that not everything went according to plan, based on his newest additions to his collection of scars. They were the first thing you’d noticed when he’d picked you up at the airport. Still shiny, pink, and fresh.

“Well, with that Hawaiian shirt collection of yours, you’d certainly fit in.”

He chuckles at that as he takes a moment to sort through the collection of various nuts and fruit and chocolate bits, he plucks out the raisins and drops them back in the bag. You bite back a smile because some things never change. He’s always pulled out the raisins, usually to replace them with more chocolate chips. Back when you were teens, his infamous ‘Bradshaw Mix’ was basically a 3-1 ratio of chocolate chips to anything else.

“Wait a second. Hold up, ‘peckish’?” His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, “Was that a joke at the expense of my callsign, kid?”

You point at yourself like who me? blinking innocently at him, “I would never.” Then grabbing a few of the nuts from his open hand you pop them into your mouth, shooting him a sunny grin.

Now that everything was all situated you felt like you could finally relax. You were like this when you traveled too, never at ease until you were through security with your bag stowed above your head. That tightness in your chest only releases after you’re buckled into your seat with all your in-flight necessities tucked away in the seat pocket in front of you.

Maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice the shirt that he was wearing. Well, mostly wearing. The sleeves had been cut off with an overenthusiastic hand and neared nip slip territory with the amount of Rooster’s golden skin that was on display.

“The Hooters shirt, really? Of all the things you could have held onto from your glory days, you chose that? How gauche.” You slide your sunglasses back on your face with your pinky exaggeratedly pointed up to the sky for dramatic flair.

He clutches his chest, “She’s got that fancy degree and been living in a big city and now she thinks she’s too good for Hooters? My, my how times have changed.” Bradley whips his tank off and tosses at you the same way he had done hundreds of times when the two of you were growing up. Except the overpowering smell of teen spirit and axe body spray was replaced with a subtle, rich woodsy smell.

Rooster laughs when you succumb to the urge and throw him your middle finger.

“Your motley crew of teenaged horndogs only went there because you all had a crush on Danielle Batula’s older sister,” you shoot back, folding up his shirt and putting it on top of your things.

“Hey now, we also went for the Lots-a-Tots. I’ve always been a feminist, kid, if a woman feels empowered wearing those spandex shorts then I’m going to support her,” he says with a wink, “Far be it from me to tell a woman what to wear.” You reach up to flick his nose and he bats at your hand, grinning even wider.

“And what’s the excuse for the reason you’re wearing jorts at the beach?”

Not that any man should be able to pull them off, but he wore them well. You were pretty sure he could pull off most anything with the body he’d worked for over the years, but the fact of the matter was that denim had no place mixing with sand.

“These are my beach jeans,” he says like it’s the most logical thing in the world, as he strikes a pose with his hip cocked out.

“I can see that, Rooster. But why?”

“It’s because they get him laid,” Javy cuts in with a booming laugh, slapping Bradley on the back as he passes by on his way towards the coolers, “Isn’t that right, Bradshaw? How many numbers did you score the last time we all did this? Like five?”

He runs his against the back of his neck, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever known him to be, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. She doesn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Oh.” It sounds just as stupid coming out of your mouth as you feel, not entirely sure how to respond or what to do with yourself.

Objectively speaking, you know your best friend is attractive. Tall, broad, and tan. You’d seen him get hit on more than a few times at the Hard Deck in the short time you’ve been here. But Rooster’s sex life wasn’t something you really wanted to hear about- or think about- especially when yours is nonexistent at the moment.

However, it was one thing to generally know Bradley had no problem finding someone to take home and a different thing to hear just how easy it was for him.

But you couldn’t say it surprised you though. During your first night out with everyone, you’d overheard a girl in the bathroom talking to her friend about him in more detail than you ever wanted to know, right down to confirming there had been more to the story he’d told you about how he’d earned his callsign.

You pointedly ignore the turn in conversation in favor of digging through your woven beach bag. You hadn’t had the time to apply sunscreen with all your rushing around to get here, and knowing Rooster he most likely hadn’t put any on either. His shoulders aren’t pink yet, but they undoubtedly will be by the end of the day. Even with the SPF 65 you’d purchased with him in mind.

Grabbing the bottle, you smoothly lob it to him, “Here, put that on. ‘Lobster’ isn’t nearly as cool of a callsign, Rooster.” You have to turn away from the chaotically haphazard way he rubs it all over his face.

Leaving him to his own devices, you pull out a battered paperback book and toss it into your chair, only slightly mortified to see that tipsy you had been in a grocery store bodice ripper mood. If only you had noticed it earlier, you would have swapped it out for something less incriminating.

How you’d taken the time to unpack your books, and not all your clothes was beyond you.

You’re about to step around to the front of your pink and white striped chair when you feel a firm tug on the belt loop of your shorts, making you stop to turn back towards your best friend.

“Woah, get back here. We can’t have you frying, kid.” He squeezes some sunscreen into his hand, “Turn around and I’ll get your back for you.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you say, adamantly shaking your head, “I trust you with a lot of things, but I am not trusting you to put the SPF on me. You haven’t even rubbed it all the way in on your face yet.” You thumb at the smear of white on his cheek to further emphasize the point.

“Hey, these hands handle a multimillion-dollar fighter jet, I’m more than capable of covering your back with sunscreen,” Rooster huffs, “Now, c’mere.”

Natasha laughs beside you as you dart out of his reach and around your chair to stand by her instead. She must have just walked up, because the last time you’d seen her she had been over on the other side of the group talking to Callie. But you had every confidence she would back you up with this since her friendship with Bradley was one that spanned years, and she’s undoubtedly seen him fried to a crisp before too.

“She makes a good point,” she says with a smirk, pinning him with a sharp raise of her eyebrow, “The last time I asked one of you guys, I ended up with the worst tan lines.”

The look of betrayal on his face is comical, “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I’ve decided to upgrade,” she says pointing to you. You beam in victory towards him and he just shakes his head at you before looking down at the large blob so sunscreen in the center of his large palm like he doesn’t know what to do with it.

You take Natasha up on her offer to help you cover the spots you can’t reach. All the while, you can hear him grumbling to himself as he works on rubbing in the dollop that had been meant for you over his shoulders and chest. After she’s done with your back, you shimmy out of your shorts and work on getting your arms and legs covered.

As Nat pulls up her thick, shiny hair onto the top of her head- the reason she must have come over here in the first place- and reminds Rooster about the plan to play ‘Dogfight’ football a little later before setting off again. You’d heard of flag football, but that name was new for you. You’d seen enough football with your ex and you were suddenly very grateful you’d brought a book to keep yourself occupied, even if it was a bodice ripper.

You double check your set up, ready to hunker down, when you feel Rooster’s eyes trained on you, “What?”

“Just looking for evidence of this tattoo you allegedly have,” he says, doubtfully, “Considering that I only found out about last night. Since when do we keep secrets?”

“I told you it’s not for the viewing public, so it’s none of your business. Now, stop hovering and go play with your friends. You’re annoying me,” you say without heat, shooing him away.

“Are you bossing me around, kid?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yep,” you say breezily, getting comfortable in your chair and opening your book, “You’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

“You’d think,” Rooster agrees with a laugh. He squeezes your shoulder before strutting off to go join where Coyote, Harvard, and Fanboy are already tossing a football back and forth not too far away.

Now that you’re on your own, you lose yourself in the words printed on the cheap paper of your smutty bargain book. You’re too engrossed in the tension and build-up of the story you’re reading to pay attention to anything else. And you’re reminded why this particular book has never made it into a donation box when you do your spring cleaning, it’s got the best combination of all your favorite tropes. By the fourth chapter you’re completely immersed in the story, and all the chatter happening around you becomes white noise.

The only signal of time passing is marked by the melted ice in your empty coffee cup, by the crinkle of swiftly turning of pages, and by the sun as it rises higher and higher in the sky.

What minimal marine layer there had been when you’d first arrived is long gone. You’re probably due for another layer of sunscreen by now, but you can’t be bothered when you’re in the middle of possibly one of the hottest sex scenes you’ve ever read.

It’s so well written, so incredibly vivid that you can almost feel greedy hands and wandering mouths along every inch of you. The blood thrumming in your ears has drowned out the sound of crashing waves. You’re so hyperaware of your body. It’s as if you can feel every individual grain of sand on your skin. Tucked between your fingers, on your shin, in the nook of your ankle bone. The high heat of the day has your hair sticking to the back of your neck and sweat collecting in the hollow of your collarbone. You’re too keenly aware of the prickling sensation on your shoulders and the tops of your thighs.

You thought living vicariously through the main character might help take the edge off. Instead, all it’s done is given fresh life to the ruined orgasm from the night before, like an echo of need reverberating throughout your whole body. A reminder of how untouched you’ve been over the last few months. You can’t help the way you’re shifting in your chair, trying to relieve the way your clit is throbbing in time with your heartbeat. The moment your cunt clenches around nothing, you close your book with a sharp snap. Not even bothering to mark the page you left off at.

You feel fidgety and keyed up.

Needing something to do, you grab your tote looking for the lightweight linen coverup you assumed was packed. But digging around all you can find is Rooster’s Hooters shirt from earlier.

You’re more than a little irritated at yourself for not double-checking you had everything before you left for the day, and because your tipsy self had clearly fucked you over. You don’t know anyone else as well as you know Bradley to rummage through their things to look for some other form of sun protection, so with a huff you pull it on over your head. The cotton is soft and warm to the touch. You’re grateful for the way it covers your shoulders, but you’re already mentally preparing yourself for how smug he’ll be when he sees you in it, especially after all the shit you gave him earlier.

Still needing to keep yourself occupied from wanting to crawl out of your skin, you crack open the water bottle you’d grabbed earlier and swallow down a few large gulps. You’d heard when Natasha had rallied the group for their game, but you hadn’t taken a moment to find out what ‘Dogfight’ Football actually was.

You’re not even the slightest bit prepared for what you see playing out in front of you down by the water. You’d figured watching some of their football game would help your act together, but now you feel even more spun out of control than before at the sight of so much skin.

Fuck.

The sun is bouncing off of their hard, athletic bodies. Under the shiny sheen of sunscreen and sweat, their muscles look bigger and the divots and ridges more pronounced. You knew these were some of the best and brightest the Navy had to offer, but seeing them in action was something else entirely. The power of their legs was impressive as they ran and spun around their opponents. The precision of their aim as they threw the football to a teammate. Every single one of them was in peak shape. Those weren’t vanity muscles, those were earned and honed by hard work.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from any of it.

The lithe line of Natasha’s toned thighs. The full, defined pecs on Jake’s massive chest. The way Bob’s large hands easily wrapped around most of the curved football he’d just caught. The skin over the wide expanse of Javy’s back was pulled taut, his muscles flexing as he twists and bends. The way Mickey was breathing hard made his chiseled abs stand out even more than they already did.

It was a lot. Especially for someone who couldn’t remember the last time they’d been good and truly fucked.

And then there was Rooster.

There had been a few moments since moving here where you’d been struck by this version of him. It was almost like your brain couldn’t connect the tall, broad man in front of you racing across the beach with the long-limbed, gangly boy you’d known with the red and black braces. Or the one in the teal shirt who’d scooped ice cream for his first job. Or the one who’d helped you pass Algebra 2 when the math teacher cared more about coaching the basketball team than he did trying to make sure his students understood the material.

Seeing him now, like this? This version of him was new to you.

Rooster’s chest and face were flushed pink, those curls of his are an absolute riot. The sweat he’d worked up made it look like his golden skin was gleaming in the bright afternoon sun, even with the patches of gritty sand that were sticking to him. Power and control radiated off every inch of him, the embodiment of physical strength and agility. Every movement he made was purposeful and precise, like he knew exactly what he was capable of.

You knew he was built, but the casual perfection of his body still takes you by surprise.

The broadness of his shoulders, the definition of his biceps and arms, the jutting v-shaped muscle that ran diagonally from his hipbones towards the trail of fine hair below his belly button. The long tendon that ran along the side of his neck was on full display as he throws his head back to laugh at something one of his teammates says. It was impossible to miss the unapologetic confidence in his swagger or the way those ridiculous jorts were clinging to his thick thighs. They were absolutely soaked through, the light wash darkened by the Pacific, and the denim was molded to him in a way that left nothing to the imagination.

When did Bradley get an ass like that?

The startling intrusive thought about your best friend has you shooting up from your chair in a flash, your book tumbling off your lap and into the warm sand.

Jesus Christ, you needed to get a grip.

Shade. You needed shade and to get out of the heat. And you definitely needed to get away from the overwhelming display of sunkissed sweaty skin and peak physical prowess playing out before you.

And then you’re off like a shot towards the Hard Deck.

The burst of cool air you’re hit with as soon as you’re pushing through the patio door that Penny left unlocked for the group is more than welcomed against your overheated skin, even as it makes goosebumps erupt along your body.

You sigh in relief once you flip the lock to the worn wooden door of the bathroom closed. Leaning against the cool surface that’s littered with faded stickers from all around the world, you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your racing heartbeat to slow down. You’re breathing hard like you’ve run a marathon, your lungs uncooperative to the point where you don’t feel like you can take a full breath. You’ve never felt this antsy before, it’s like there’s a live wire under your skin.

In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself. You’re more than a little windblown, but it’s the wild gleam in your eyes that surprises you the most, it’s a look on yourself that you’ve never seen before. Your thighs rub together as you shift your weight on your feet and it makes the pulsing of your clit impossible to ignore.

You weren’t. You shouldn’t.

But you have no idea how you’re going to make it through the rest of the afternoon and evening if you didn’t with how on edge you are.

Bringing your hand up to your chest, you press it there and let your thumb soothingly skim the side of your neck, trying to use whatever techniques you’d learned in those overpriced yoga classes you’d started taking before you’d left Boston to calm yourself down. But your fluttery pulse won’t be pacified.

Every part of you feels hypersensitive, you can feel every thread of Rooster’s shirt against your too tight skin. The desire to be touched is overwhelming. Your breasts feel heavy and you’re all too aware of your peaked nipples against the cups of your swimsuit. You’re craving hands other than your own.

It’s been so long since someone else has made you come. Even longer since you’ve had a back-arching, toe-curling, steal-your-breath kind of orgasm. You want to be pressed into the door, you want a firm, solid body fitted against yours. You want to be kissed and touched and fucked.

You keep telling yourself that you aren’t going to, even as your hand trails down the soft cotton between the valley of your breasts and over your stomach down even further. Your fingers sneak easily beneath the top of your bikini bottoms since you’d left without pulling your denim shorts back on. There are no thoughts left in your head, only the ringing in your ears. You need, you need.

There’s a small whimper that escapes you at the first touch of your fingertips against your slippery clit. The sensation has your hips jerking forward on their own, seeing out more. You’re so wet already.

There’s no finesse or slow build up. No gentle teasing or trying to draw this out. Your fingers are making quick, tight circles on that pulsing part of you. In the quiet of the bathroom, the rhythmic slick sounds you’re creating feel almost too loud.

You already know it’s not going to take you long to get there, but you still can’t help but let your mind wander. You think of big hands with thick fingers, ones that are calloused and rougher than your own touching you in just the way you like. The thought of a thick thigh pressed in between your own, on you could rock and grind against, has you rolling your hips harder against your fingertips. You can almost feel the ghosting of hot lips, a wet mouth, and a teasing tongue along your neck. All you want is a raspy voice in your ear whispering filthy words and murmuring pretty praise.

Couldn’t even wait until you got home. C’mon then, dirty girl, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone and no one’s watching.

Go on, give that needy clit the attention it deserves. Spread your thighs open further- yes, just like that- I want to see how wet you are for me.

Jesus, look how hard you’re working for it. You’re going to make yourself come, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard that everyone will know what we did in here. They’ll all know how desperate you were for this cock.

A soft whine makes its way out of you, and with your free hand you pull up the collar of the shirt you’re wearing over your mouth to try and muffle your sounds as you tremble all over.

You’re hit with the scent of clean laundry and the warm, woodsy scent of expensive cologne. It’s rich and cozy, it reminds you of the trees that grow everywhere in your hometown. And underneath that, there’s a smell that you’d know anywhere, one you’ve always been familiar with. It smells like Br--

You come open-mouthed with stars blooming behind your eyelids, the force of it hitting you so hard that your knees nearly give out beneath you. The hand that had been covering your mouth slaps against the door for support. Your hips writhe against your fingertips as you chase those last shimmery moments of your release.

In your post-orgasm satisfaction, you feel like you can finally breathe again, now that all your antsy, unsettled energy has been freed from your body.

When you can feel your legs again, you go wash your hands once and then again for good measure. Like somehow it’ll erase the last few minutes from the Hard Deck’s history books, even though you’re sure it’s seen much worse. You chance a peek at yourself in the mirror, you look more relaxed than you did when you’d arrived.

Unlocking the door, you leave the sanctuary of the quiet bathroom. The only thing on your mind is the glass of ice water that’s calling your name. You’re about to round the corner out of the hallway when you collide into someone’s chest. A firm, sweaty, shirtless chest.

“Oh hey, there you are,” Rooster says, his big hand steadying you at the waist. “You ok? You look overheated, kid.”

Your face heats up immediately. You’re too flustered by what just occurred barely five minutes ago to look him in the eye. You feel embarrassment trying to bubble its way to the surface, but you push it back down in the name of self-care. Plus, you could always blame it on sunstroke if you had to, not that you were ever planning on telling anyone about it.

“Probably just dehydrated,” you ramble, trying to sound unaffected. Your eyes are trained on a spot just under his ear. “But you’re one to talk. You’re fried, Rooster.” With a finger you press lightly on his bright pink shoulder. His hisses and knocks your hand away.

“Nah, I’m just working on my base tan.” You don’t see as much as you feel the moment he notices what you’re wearing. Smugness rolling off of him in waves, “Not too good for Hooters now, are you?”

“Shut up,” you mumble.

“C’mon, let’s get you some water.” Tucking you under his arm as he steers you back towards the bar. “So what did you think of Dogfight football? Did you catch any of it or did your highbrow literary choice have your full, undivided attention?”

Your mind starts to whirl, unable to think of a reply. Thankfully you’re spared giving him an answer as the rest of the clamorous team spills in through the open patio door. The commotion is a godsend, because it’s almost like he forgot he even asked the question in the first place in the all the activity. The real answer will forever be a secret between you and the Hard Deck.

The late afternoon melts into evening like hand-churned ice cream, smooth and silky.

Eventually, the beach set up is packed away into trunks of cars as the party moves inside the bar. You end up back in your denim shorts, the Hooters shirt is the crowning glory to your ensemble for the rest of the night. You don’t even feel guilty getting people to call Rooster ‘Flamingo’ after the third time someone asks you about being out of uniform regulation. But he isn’t faring much better in the too-tight shirt he was borrowing, since it turns out that out of everyone in the group only Bob had been the one with enough common sense to pack a spare one.

As predicted, the pink hue of Rooster’s skin deepens with every passing hour until he’s bribing you into leaving early with the promise of burgers and milkshakes in exchange for putting on aloe for him back at his place.

He’s sprawled face down on his couch in a pair of loose sweatpants with his eyes closed, contentedly humming as you work on applying a second coat of the cool, soothing gel to his hot-to-the-touch skin. One of the movies the two of you use to watch all the time plays on in the background, the crumpled wrappers and empty cups of your dinner sitting out still on his coffee table. Every time you come here you can’t help but seek out any little touches that look like him, but much like yours, his condo seems to be a work in progress.

“It’s nice having you around, kid,” Rooster says with a sigh. “I’ve missed you.”

“You don’t have to butter me up, Bradshaw, I’ll put one more layer on for you before I leave,” you tease, as your hand follows the freckles along his back.

He squeezes your knee, “No, seriously. I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’m really happy you’re here.” And you know that if you were to look in his brown eyes, you’d see nothing but fondness reflected in them.

You give him a soft smile, “I’m happy I’m here too.”

It’s late by the time you get back to your place.

It seems pointless with the cardboard boxes still scattered around your apartment, but you still go through the motion of putting all your things away. Like wiping out your cooler bag and throwing your clothes in the washing machine, including the well-worn Hooters shirt. You’ve already decided to spend the rest of your weekend trying to unpack your things, you’re ready to make your space feel more like your home.

It’s a slow sinking feeling that settles over you as you wash the sand and sea salt from your skin in the shower. Your day has been so filled with chatter and laughter, that it feels uncomfortably quiet. It was different from the peaceful quiet you’d had at Rooster’s place, this was the empty kind of quiet.

You turn the tv on in your room and crawl into bed, savoring the way the cool cotton of your sheets feels against your legs. Checking your phone, you see that Nat has sent you some pictures that she must have taken during the day. Scrolling through them you like the windblown, carefree girl you see in them.

For as good as the day you’ve had, you can’t quite shake off how lonely you’re feeling now. You can’t help but think about how nice it would be to come home and have someone here to laugh and relax with. Someone just to be with.

You pull your lower lip in between your teeth as you click into the app store feature on your phone. Taking a few moments to skim the options, you download the dating app with the highest rating and best reviews, deciding that it can’t hurt to try.

Not everyone got to have a fresh start in a new city, and you wanted to make the most of it. A new city with new places to go and new people to meet.

And you are ready to embrace every bit of it with open arms and a hopeful heart.

California was going to look good on you.

Bradley Bradshaw, you liked that lavender latte and you're not fooling any of us!

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @callsignspark for being the best babes to swoon over pretty pilots with!

If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!

You can read more of my stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @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

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine

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catmiemy · 1 month

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Things Will Never Be the Same (Lia Wälti x Reader)

Summary: You figure out that your girlfriend hasn’t been paranoid and your best friend is actually in love with you.

A/N: Finally managed to finish something! I have so many ideas, but I'm constantly too busy to actually write them. But I'm hopeful to have more time the next few weeks.

Also I'm definitely going to write a part two for this because I need a happy ending. So if there's anything you want to see, please tell me. :)

“Where the hell is my coffee?”

Your girlfriend’s voice reached you through the bathroom door. Both the actual words and her tone made you frown at yourself in the mirror. Apparently someone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed again. Like most mornings these days.

With a sigh you went back to applying your make up. There was no point in arguing with Jessica when she was like this. Furthermore you had a long day ahead of you and didn’t feel like wasting your energy unnecessarily. It probably, no definitely, wasn’t a good sign that you reached a point where you thought of most interactions with your girlfriend as draining, but you weren’t ready to face that fact.

Unfortunately Jessica was determined to bring the argument to you. Only a few moments after her initial shout, the door crashed open and your girlfriend marched into the room. “Where the hell is my coffee?”

Annoyance flared up inside of you. You did your best to keep a grip on your anger though, this would turn ugly if you also lost your temper, well uglier than it was going to be anyway. You hated what had become of your relationship, but no matter how hard you tried, you continuously failed at turning things around. You used to be so happy, so in love.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were awake, otherwise I would have brought you your cup.” You tried your hardest to keep a neutral tone and an impartial expression, all the anger and pain you felt hidden behind this façade.

Bringing Jessica a cup of coffee in bed had been one of your favorite things early on in your relationship. Her eyes always lit up with sheer joy and an endless amount of love for you at this small gesture. Back then she never got tired of telling you how much it meant to her, how much she enjoyed these few minutes in bed with her favorite beverage and cuddles with you, because of course in the early days of your relationship you would always snuggle back into bed with her. Now it had become chore, which apparently you got yelled at for if you missed it once.

“I sent you a text to let you know!” Jessica pointed out sharply.

You grabbed your phone and sure enough, there was a message from her. You also noticed that you had forgotten to turn off the “Do not disturb”, but you doubted that Jessica would be receptive to this explanation. Another thing that you noticed was a message from your best friend, your teammate at both Arsenal and the national team, Lia.

I’m grabbing us some coffee.

See you at the airport!

These few words were enough to bring a smile to your face, another thing that didn’t sit right with Jessica. She snagged the phone out of your hand.

“Hey!” You protested, grabbing the phone back from her. It wasn’t hard, Jessica relented it easily once she had seen what had made you smile.

“When will you finally realize that she has a crush on you?” She basically spat at you.

This was an old argument and one that always made your blood boil. Lia was off limits! However you didn’t have the time, or energy, for a full blown fight right now. So you restricted yourself to hissing at your girlfriend that she should really leave Lia out of this and that you would talk later. Then you pushed past her, grabbed your luggage that you had put next to the door, and left the apartment.

Unsurprisingly your uber wasn’t here yet. A quick glance at your watch revealed to you that you were a good ten minutes early. The thought of going back into your apartment and facing your girlfriend again was entirely unappealing, so you decided to stay out here. At least the weather was pleasant enough.

To avoid being seen by Jessica, which might have prompted her to come out and continue your argument, you moved a little further down the street until you were hidden behind some bushes. Standing there you were hit by the realization that this might be a new all time low for your relationship. And if you were being honest the idea that this was what the rest of your life was going to look like made you sick to your stomach. Better not to dwell on it.

The instance you entered the airport and spotted your best friend, you rushed over to her and flung your arms around her. Lia matched your motion, although a little awkwardly since she was holding two coffees.

“Hey Schätzi, is everything okay?” She asked you, worry dripping from her voice.

You nodded your head and allowed yourself to enjoy the closeness a little while longer, before extracting yourself.

“Fight with Jessica,” you mumbled.

Anger set Lia’s eyes ablaze. She bit her lips to avoid saying anything too harsh. It was no secret that the dislike between your best friend and your girlfriend was mutual. However Lia was much better at keeping civil than Jessica.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

This time you shook your head, “Nah, I don’t want to think about it right now.”

As was normally the case it didn’t take long before you told Lia everything nonetheless. When it came to her you never could keep silent, no matter how closed off you were with everyone else. Lia’s soothing and caring personality made you feel like it was okay to get it all out. And even if you would never admit it, you usually felt better afterwards.

Lia was a very attentive listener. Her gaze rested on you the entire time and she nodded along, keeping a mostly neutral complexion. If you would have focused on it, you could have easily picked up on the disdain for your girlfriend in your friend’s eyes, but you didn’t want to see it.

And anyway, the more you talked about it, the more explanations you found for Jessica’s behavior. She wasn’t a morning person, she always felt a bit lonely when you had to travel because of work, anger was her go to emotion when she was overwhelmed.

“You know I think I’m going to text her that I’m sorry and that we should talk in the evening,” you announced.

Lia looked at you skeptically, asking carefully, “Why are you apologizing?”

You shrugged your shoulders, finding it more difficult than expected to answer her question. Somehow you always felt like you had to apologize around Jessica. Again, this was something you didn’t want to dwell on.

“For yelling,” you said finally, before quickly changing the subject.

The arrival at camp and especially the reunion with all your teammates that you hadn’t seen in a long time was chaotic and easy to get lost in. Still you noticed that Lia was quieter and more reserve than usual and you promised yourself to question her about it before bed. With a pang of guilt you realized that you hadn’t even asked her how she was this morning at the airport, just instantly unloading all of your stuff onto her.

Dinner dredged on for quite some time and when it was finally finished you realized that both Lia and Ana were nowhere to be seen. First you checked the room Lia and you shared, when they weren’t there you headed to Ana’s room.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard sobbing coming from the room. It didn’t sound like someone having a little cry either, no this was desperate wailing and even before you knew who was in so much turmoil, your heart broke for the unknown person. That being said, the moment you realized who was sobbing their eyes out your heart shattered into a million pieces.

“I can’t do it anymore,” a voice that you recognized instantly as the one of your best friend in the whole world, managed to get out between sobs.

As if these words were pulling you into the room, your body began moving on its own accord. You burst into the room, frantically looking around for Lia, rushing to her side the moment you spotted her on the bed. She was wrapped in Ana’s arms, but this didn’t deter you. You simply threw your arms around both of them.

“What’s happening, Schätzi? Please tell me, what’s going on. If someone hurt you, I swear to god I will kill them!” You would! No one was allowed to hurt your best friend, not when she was the sweetest person on the planet.

To your immense surprise Lia went rigid the moment she heard your voice and felt your arms around her. This didn’t make any sense; you had always been each other’s place of comfort. You looked up at Ana questioningly, startling once again when you saw the anguish in her eyes. What had you missed? Had someone died? One of Lia’s parents?

While you were still trying to make sense of this all, Lia freed herself from both yours and Ana’s arms and with a mumbled apology ran out of the room. You jumped up as well, ready to go after her and get to the bottom of this, but Ana held you back.

“Don’t,” she told you earnestly.

“I…Ana, what the hell was that? Please, you need to tell me, so I can be there for Lia. I’m her best friend, I need…” You didn’t know exactly what you needed; just whatever would help you take away Lia’s pain. You had never seen her like this, not even after any of her breakups.

Ana chewed on her lip, the internal struggle happening in her mind clear as day. In the end she sighed and said, “I can’t, Y/N. I want to because I think it’s important that you know, but it’s not my story to tell. Give Lia a little time to calm down and then try talking with her again, yeah?”

You nodded, even if in reality you had already decided not to heed Ana’s advice. How could you not try finding Lia right this second when she was this devastated? More than anything you wanted to make it better for her and you had a lot of faith that you could. You had always been there for Lia, through everything, just like she had been for you.

Therefore you began searching for Lia everywhere. First you checked your hotel room, but unsurprisingly she wasn’t there. Then you went outside because Lia loved being outdoors when she felt emotional. Again, no luck. The next hour you spent looking through every nook, but Lia was nowhere to be found.

Defeated you went back to your hotel room, hoping she had returned there by now. You held your breath when you entered, disappointment hitting you when you were greeted by a dark and empty room.

You plopped down onto the bed, not even bothering to turn on the light despite it slowly getting dark. Where was Lia? And more importantly what had happened to her? You picked up your phone, debating if you should call someone from Lia’s family. Maybe they had some information.

That’s when your phone lit up with a call from Jessica, an unwelcome remainder that you were supposed to talk everything out with her tonight. However, you didn’t have the energy for that right now; especially not when it would mean you would have to grovel until Jessica finally deemed it enough to forgive you. Lia’s words popped up in your mind, why were you even apologizing?

So you ended up ignoring the call, and you also ignored that this would inevitably lead to an even more difficult conversation with even more groveling on your part. Right now you couldn’t worry about that, all of your concerns were taken up by the whole situation with Lia.

You had lost all sense of time, so you couldn’t say how much later it was when the door was finally opened and Lia tiptoed into the room. Instantly you sat up, startling your friend who had expected, hoped really, that you were already asleep.

By now it had become pitch black in the room, and you reached towards the light switch to turn on the lights. When Lia saw your movement, she asked you not to, her voice sounding horribly hoarse. You respected her wishes, instead getting up and walking over to her in an attempt to give her a hug.

“Don’t,” Lia pleaded, cracking your heart in the process

What was going on? What had you done to make her push you away? It physically pained you not to offer Lia any comfort when she was clearly struggling, but again you listened to her boundaries.

“Lia, please talk to me,” you begged, “Ana told me…”

Later you would try to rationalize what you did next, or didn’t do to be more precise, to yourself by saying you were too stunned to stop Lia once it became apparent that she thought you were going to say that Ana had told you what was bothering her, when really you wanted to say, ‘Ana told me to leave you alone for a while, but I can’t do that.’

However a small voice would always point out that you could have stopped her at any time if you had really wanted to. The thing was though, you wanted to know what was going on with Lia, so you didn’t stop her.

“I…look…I’m so sorry! And I promise I can keep my feelings in check. I’ve been doing it for the longest time, so please…I can’t lose you! I know you’ll never love me like I love you, but I still need you in my life. Please….I’m…”

Lia’s voice broke, sobs bubbling up instead. She suppressed them successfully, but there was nothing the midfielder could do against the quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.

By now you really were shocked into silence, your mind reeling. Was it possible that Jessica had been right all this time and Lia did in fact have a crush on you? No, that was crazy! Your best friend had never given any indication that she liked you like this. Or had she?

You looked up at Lia whose whole posture screamed defeat. Her head was bent, her gaze firmly trained on the floor. The brunette had crossed her arms in front of her as if to protect herself from whatever you were going to say.

“Wait what? You have a crush on me?” This was the rather dumb response you came up with.

Lia shrugged her shoulders helplessly, her voice tear-stricken when she spoke again, “I’m not sure if that word is strong enough for what I feel, but like I said, it doesn’t matter. I can deal with it.”

She looked up at you for a moment, but was unable to even meet your eyes. Panic hit you, no matter how much Lia stressed that this wouldn’t change anything, you weren’t too sure if this was true now that it was all out in the open. You couldn’t lose her!

“But wait? Didn’t Ana already tell you this?”

Lia’s question ripped you from your downward spiral and at least for a moment the fear was drowned out by intense shame.

“No, she didn’t. I was going to say she told me to leave you alone, but then you began explaining and I just didn’t stop you because I wanted to know what’s going on so I could help,” you admitted.

Now it all made sense why Lia hadn’t wanted to talk to you about what was bothering her. You wished that you could turn back time and make different choices, so you never found out about this. But you didn’t deserve that, not after basically tricking Lia into disclosing her secret.

“What?” Lia asked in anguish, “So I could’ve...You never had to…I’m so stupid!”

And with that your best friend turned around and fled from the room. The sobs she could no longer hold back shaking her shoulders, and breaking your heart. You deserved all the fear and shame and other complicated feelings that came with this being laid open, but Lia didn’t.

You sank back down onto your bed, staring numbly at the wall, while your mind was beating yourself up mercilessly. If only you hadn’t been so selfish! How did you never notice that the most important person in your entire life was in love with you? What did that say about you?!

There were no tears, just silence and an ever growing pit in your stomach.

When the room to the hotel room was opened again sometime later, a tiny flutter of hope went through you. Maybe you could find the right words and things could go back to how they had been straight away?

This small and probably completely unrealistic hope was crushed instantly when you saw that it wasn’t Lia but Ana entering the room. She rushed over to you, engulfing you in a hug.

“Hey, how are you?”

You didn’t answer Ana’s question, but allowed yourself a moment of burying yourself in your friend’s arms. And anyway it was impossible to reply when you didn’t even know how you were, if you were really still in that hotel room, if this was in fact your life.

After a short while you pulled back, sitting up straight and focusing on the truly important topic.

“How’s Lia?” You asked, fear tinting your words.

Ana took a few seconds to answer, pondering her words. The truth wasn’t pretty, so she wanted to do her best to soften the blow.

“Not too good,” she admitted finally. “There’s just too many emotions hitting her at once. I think up until now she still had some hope that you’d return her feelings. But now that it’s all out in the open these hopes have been crushed and she just needs some time.”

While talking Ana studied you carefully. She had always wondered if maybe you returned Lia’s feelings. Not that she had ever told her friend that, the poor girl didn’t need any more confusing thoughts and emotions to deal with. Part of her wanted to ask you straightforward, but in the end Ana decided against it. Now was not the time for it, not when it was clear that you too were completely overwhelmed with everything that had happened.

For you the thought of Lia needing time, time apart from you, made you nauseous. There was barely a day where you didn’t see or at least talk to your best friend. A reality where that wasn’t true, even if it was only for a little while, felt unbearable. However you were well aware that you weren’t in a position to make any demands. If Lia needed time, you had to accept that.

“Nadine has agreed to switch rooms with Lia so that she can stay with me. Are you okay with that?”

Ana’s soft words pulled you from your thoughts. The idea of Lia not sleeping in the bed next to you felt like another punch to the stomach. Still you pushed down your emotions and the tears burning in your eyes, and nodded.

“Okay then,” Ana said, a little unsure on how to proceed. If only she could cut herself in half and offer both Lia and you some comfort!

You decided to make it easier for her by standing up and heading to the bathroom. There you gathered Lia’s vanity bag, handing it to Ana when you returned. After that you quickly assembled all the things your best friend would need for the night. Pain shooting through you with every familiar item you picked up.

“Goodnight, Ana,” you said once you had given her everything, before disappearing into the bathroom once again to get ready for bed yourself.

You did so in record time, wanting to be in bed and be able to pretend you were already sleeping when Nadine came to the room.

At least this worked out in your favor and when you heard the door being opened again, you pressed your eyes shut and didn’t react to your teammate’s soft calls. You probably weren’t very convincing, but thankfully Nadine decided to leave you alone.

Sleep evaded you for a long time. You lay there with closed eyes, silent tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried and failed to keep your mind occupied. But no matter what you did, it kept circling back to the horrible image of Lia’s devastation once she understood that she had just revealed her biggest secret to you, the gut-wrenching realization that everything would be different now, and the fear of losing Lia once and for all.

What if she would never be able to move past this? She had so many great friends in her life, Ana, Leah, Viv and so many more, what if she realized that they were much better than you anyway? You couldn’t imagine a life without Lia. The prospect of a few weeks without her was already enough to make you want to curl up in bed and never get up again. But if you never got her back? You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t.

#lia wälti x reader #lia wälti imagine #lia walti imagine #lia walti x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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bunnycobie · 1 year

Text

best friend's brother - choi san

pairing: choi san x f!reader summary: when your night with your crush doesn't go to plan, you find comfort in the person you'd least expect genre: smut, some fluff, some angst word count: 3k content/tw: nonidol characters, college au, san has a sister named mina (not meant to be mina from twice), other random idol names are used, fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex (don’t do this in real life) a/n: this may be a cringefest bc it was my first fic

18+ minors dni (masterlist)

you tap on jimin’s instagram story for an update on where he might be. he’s in a car with his friends, most likely on his way here. replaying the post over and over, you don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at his smile until you’re hit on the leg with a pillow, snapping you back into reality.

“are you even listening to me?” mina snaps. you grin and sit up against the pillows on her bed.

today is mina’s birthday, and she decided to throw a party at her house tonight. but even though she invited tons of people, she only cares about one guest. so much so, that she’s cycled through five different outfits just to look as good as possible.

“you look hot.” you say jokingly, grabbing and hugging the pillow she just threw at you. “jin is going to notice you, quit overthinking it.”

mina groans. “why aren’t they here yet?”

“they’re on their way right now, they’ll probably be here soon. can we please go now?” you whine. the party started almost an hour ago, but you’ve been waiting for your friend to finish getting ready.

“i just need a few more minutes. go ahead, i’ll find you later.” she says, looking in the mirror as she puts on a pair of earrings.

as you leave the room, your ears are instantly flooded with music despite the party only being downstairs. you head towards the bathroom and step inside to check your hair and makeup in the mirror.

you and mina invited jimin and jin to the party, and it’s the only thing you two have thought about all week. mina and jin are practically a thing at this point, but you can’t say the same for you and jimin. you’re always too nervous to hold a conversation with him. it’s nothing a little liquid courage can’t fix, though. you hope.

there’s a knock on the bathroom door. you open it expecting it to be mina. instead, you’re greeted by a large frame with silky black hair.

of course, it’s mina’s brother san.

despite being a player on campus, he’s really sweet and protective over you. presumably because you’re his sister’s friend. still, he’s always been respectful and never tried to make a move on you.

but you’ve definitely caught him staring once or twice, and youd be lying if you said you didn’t do the same.

“oh, hi y/n.” he examines your outfit, making you feel self-conscious. “i started to think i’d never see you guys come out of that room.”

“sorry,” you smile awkwardly, walking around him into the hallway. “she’s nervous about jin.”

“jin’s coming?”

“yeah, and jimin”. you reply.

san’s posture straightens. “so you actually like him?”

“i never said that.” you protest.

“i hear you guys all the time. you aren’t really discreet about it.” he smiles.

you can’t help but notice his dimples every time he does that. your relationship with him has only ever been platonic, but you’re almost always dumbfounded by his appearance.

“i mean, maybe. i can’t really tell if he feels the same way though.” you say, fidgeting with your hands.

san leans against the wall. “i wouldn’t waste my time on him,”.

“what? what do you mean?”

“i don’t like him. it doesn’t matter though; you can do better than him.”

who the hell does he think he is?

“you don’t even know him. why should i care what you think?” you say, furrowing your brows.

in reality, san knows jimin more than you’d thin. they’ve never been friends, but he’s spent enough time around him to know that he’s not worth dating.

san is well aware of his position in your life, but he still cares and doesn’t want to see you hurt. your words stung a little, but he wouldn’t let you know that.

san grins and lets out a soft chuckle that pisses you off a little.

mina’s bedroom door opens and she steps out in yet another outfit choice.

“it took you an hour to come up with that?” san says teasingly, gesturing to mina’s outfit.

mina’s eyes widen. “is it actually that bad?” she gaps.

“he’s joking.” you smile, despite the anger you felt a few seconds ago. “you look cute, can we go now?” you asked, grabbing mina’s hand and pulling her towards the stairs.

not only would she have actually changed her outfit again, but you would’ve done anything to get out of that situation. you’re an adult and can date whoever you want. why is san treating you like you’re his sister... or his girlfriend?

as you walk away with mina, you glance over your shoulder to see san still looking at you, except this time he’s more serious.

the party was open invitation, but you’re still surprised by the number of people that actually showed. you and mina grab two beers from the kitchen.

you feel a tug on your arm. “they’re over there!”. she points to jin and jimin sitting on a sofa with drinks and talking.

your stomach knots at the sight of jimin and you start to feel flustered. he looks so good you start to second guess your outfit just as much as mina did hers. you chug your drink, hoping the alcohol will set in soon.

mina laughs at your nervousness. “are you ready?”

“i think so –”

“hey guys!” mina yells over the music, interrupting you.

your heart drops even further than it already did.

jmin and jin look over as you and mina make your way to them. mina sits next to Jin, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to jimin on the opposite end. you were hoping Mina would be with you to ease the awkwardness, but that plan is instantly thrown out the window.

jimin turns his body towards you, and you start to wish you’d planned things to talk about.

“hey, you look nice.” he smiles.

“thank you.” you respond shyly. somehow you feel even more self-conscious despite the compliment.

“i haven’t seen you in class lately.” you mention, hoping your awkwardness doesn’t show.

“oh. i’ve been kind of focused on my music lately. i’m actually considering switching majors.” he says.

he continues speaking but as you glance around your attention is caught by san across the room.

he’s looking directly at you, while a girl is holding his arm and laughing. he’s pretending to listen, but he’s watching you and jimin. you can’t seem to break the eye contact, as if your eyes are glued to him.

you realize you’re mid conversation and shift your focus back on jimin, who’s still talking about himself.

“i think that’s great.” you smile at him, unknowing of what he spent the last 30 seconds talking about.

“y/n, can I borrow you for a sec?” mina leans forward into your gaze.

you nod. “sorry, one second.” you excuse yourself from the conversation and follow mina as she pulls you aside.

“jin and i are going to my room; are you gonna be fine on your own?” she asks lowly.

“what? you’re sleeping with jin already?” you exclaim.

mina shushes you and looks around the room as if anyone could’ve heard you over the music.

“i don’t know, probably.” she says, grinning like an idiot.

“i’ll be fine. be safe.” you smile.

she nods and waves over jin, and he follows her upstairs

you make your way over to where you previously were but realize jimin is gone. you scan the room for him but can’t find him. you start to regret letting mina go and feel awkward all over again. you look around for a familiar face and see san, still talking to the same girl and clearly uninterested. you find chaewon and yunjin and join them for a while.

almost two hours pass while you’re busy getting drunk and dancing.

mina comes back with jin, but you’ve been so caught up that you forgot about them and jimin.

“hey.” you almost cringe realizing what they might have just finished doing.

mina grins and rolls her eyes. “where’s jimin?”

you shrug. “he left after you guys did”

“that’s weird,” jin says.

“i’ll go look for him.”

you scan downstairs one more time, but he’s still nowhere to be seen. you realize the party extended to the patio and open the door to check outside.

you find him, but you’re practically frozen in place when you do. he’s sitting next to a pretty blonde girl, kissing and feeling her up. you start to feel sick. you know that the two of you weren’t exclusive, but you still had hope there would be something between you. you’ve been obsessed with him for months and the one night you decided to make a move, the universe betrays you. the embarrassment starts to set in when you realize practically everyone knew about your crush as well.

you can’t watch any longer, and head back inside. you don’t feel like looking for mina. you don’t want to ruin her birthday by forcing her to comfort you. you’re too ashamed to admit what happened, anyways. you’re too drunk to walk or drive home, so you go to mina’s bedroom to wait for the rest of the night.

you open the door to her bedroom but the unmade bed reminds you of what just happened in it. and as disgusting as you feel, you’d rather not fall asleep on a bed full of sweat and god knows what else.

standing in the hallway, you start to feel the frustration set in and tears begin to well in your eyes.

you hear heavy footsteps on the stairs and immediately wipe your tears.

you don’t know whether to be grateful or upset over the fact that it’s san. as soon as you see his face, you’re reminded of the situation from earlier. and the last thing you want is to hear an “i-told-you-so”.

“what’s wrong?” he says, noticing your expression.

“nothing.” you reply, trying to contain yourself.

“why were you crying then?” he approaches you, practically trapping you in between him and the wall.

“i’m just tired.” you lie, looking down hoping to avoid eye contact.

“don’t lie to me,” san says, lifting your chin.

“did he do something to you?” he’s more intimate this time, and you realize you won’t get anywhere by hiding the truth.

“you were right.” you admit, removing his hand from your face. you start to feel the shame overwhelm you again

san sighs and looks around the hallway to make sure you were alone.

“are you happy?” you continued.

“of course i’m not happy,” san says, offended by the accusation. “you’ve had too much to drink. let’s just get you to bed, okay?”

you know he didn’t do anything wrong. none of this was his fault. to be fair, he did warn you. you weren’t mad at san, but you were overwhelmed and didn’t know what else to do. so, you took it out on him.

“you’ve been watching me like a creep all night waiting for something to go wrong. now you want to pretend you feel bad and take care of me?” you snap.

san sucks his teeth and grabs your wrist. pulling you to his bedroom, he shuts the door behind him and leans against it.

“can you calm down?” he asks in annoyance, folding his arms.

you start pacing out of frustration, trying to keep yourself from breaking down.

“he’s not worth crying over, y/n. I told you that you could do better than him.” he says, pulling you back to him. he snakes one hand around your waist and starts wiping your tears with the other.

something about his presence makes you feel safe. he makes you feel like you could cry if you needed to, but how could you when you’re around him? the realization that your body is pressed against his starts to set in.

you always knew san was good-looking, but something about the way he’s letting you be vulnerable with him makes him so much more attractive. he looked unreal, yet somehow, he was standing right in front of you.

you must have been staring for a while because his expression darkens. his thumb that was just wiping your tears starts to brush softly over your lips. you feel like you’re going to pass out from the way he’s staring at your face, studying you.

san’s lips press against yours and his arms wrap around your waist. you reach over his wide shoulders and around his neck as he pulls your body closer to his. each kiss begins deepen, with small moans escaping your throat. and as passionate as they are, his lips are still so soft and careful with yours.

san’s lips move from yours to your neck, and he’s holding you as if you’d slip away once he lets go.

you can feel warmth pooling in between your legs, making your legs go numb. he sweeps you up and moves his focus back to your lips as he carries you to his bed. laying you on your back, he hovers over you between your legs, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

you let out a moan as reassurance for him to continue, so he slides his hand under your top. he squeezes and massages your breast, causing you to let out whines involuntarily.

“does that feel good?” he groans against your neck. you can feel him smiling against you, giving you chills in the best way possible.

you manage to let out a soft whiny “yes.”.

“i’m gonna make you feel so much better.” he promises. he plants a soft kiss against your collarbone before shifting his hand between your legs.

he circles his thumb against the outside of your panties, feeling the damp spots he caused. each feeling of him hitting your clit makes your breath hitch.

“fuck.” he groans. “my baby is so good and wet for me.” he moans, teasing you with his fingers.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, your forehead against his.

“could you please?” you plead softly.

“could I what? use your words, baby.” he teases, pushing more pressure onto your clit.

“fingers, please.” you babble, your head falling back from the sensitivity.

“you want me to fuck you with my fingers?” san smirks.

“mm-hmm.” you whine.

san pulls your panties to the side and pushes his thick finger in slowly, earning a whimper from you.

he can feel his cock growing feeling the warmth of you, wishing it was inside of you instead. the sound of his fingers slipping inside of you are audible from the wetness.

san can feel himself swelling up and leaking from the anticipation, but he wants to take his time with you. he loves the sight of you moaning and whining under his control with your head held back.

he pulls your head in by the back of your neck and snakes his tongue in your mouth while curling his fingers to reach your gspot. his tongue is warm and wet, and you feel yourself getting dizzy and falling apart.

“i’m gonna cum.” you manage to breathe out.

“wait a little longer for me,” san says, pulling his fingers out of your heat and kissing you before standing up.

he pulls his shirt off revealing his bare chest and smooth, toned skin. he’s practically sweating from the anticipation, making his abs and biceps look even more glossy. he looks like a greek god.

unzipping his pants and removing the rest of his clothes, his swollen cock reveals itself, already wet and leaking from the tip.

he pushes you back down and lets you wrap your legs around his waist.

rubbing his tip against your sensitive clit, he inserts himself, making you gasp. the feeling you felt from his finger was almost nothing compared to the size of him inside of you.

he groans at the feeling of you wrapped around and squeezing him and wastes no time before speeding up his pace. your moans can’t help but get louder, and he has to cover your mouth with his just in case someone may hear you whine.

he moves fast yet softly as if he doesn’t want to hurt you. still, the feeling of him inside of you is enough to make your eyes water. you feel your sensitivity from being edged earlier come back, and you’re close to your high all over again.

“i wish i could do this with you forever” he moans.

his pace starts to get sloppy, letting you know he’s close to finishing. you feel a wave of ecstasy take over your body as san releases inside of you, leaving you dripping. the two of you moan over the feeling of finishing on each other.

san collapses next to you as you both catch your breath. he gets up and slips on clothes to leave the room. you lay in confusion for a minute until he comes back with a warm towel.

he cleans you up and gives you one of his clean t-shirts to wear to sleep. you try to hide your smile from the thought of him being so sweet to you. when you put the shirt on, he falls in love at the sight of it being so big on you. he’s not super tall, but his muscles are enough to warrant his shirts being huge. san wraps his arms around you and gives you another kiss, but this time it feels more loving than the rest.

“do you feel better now?” he asks, embracing you.

you’d forgotten about what led to this in the first place. but you didn’t care enough to remember because you were in love with someone else now.

#choi san #choi san x reader #san ateez #ateez smut #jimin angst #bts jimin #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mingi smut #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #yunho smut #jongho smut #yeosang smut #wooyoung smut #ateez fanfic #choi san fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

Note

Heyyy

So I really liked the Damian Wayne x reader platonic friend thingy your wrote. I really feel like there should be more of those.

Anyways, k cam where to respect something similar. Can u maybe write hc on what it'd be like to be friends w him? Like bantering n stuff and maybe u can focus a bit on how Bruce feels abt it? Oh and bonus points if the reader is awkward.

Toodles!

Being friends with Damian isn’t easy in the slightest, mainly because he doesn’t make it easy for anyone to befriend him in the first place. So the fact that you managed to accomplish that was a major achievement already.

However that didn’t mean anything afterwards was made any easier for you just because you managed to make the impossible become possible. No. Why? Damian is one hell of a dry conversationalist if Titus or animals in general weren’t involved.

He’s basically an extroverts worst nightmare given a human form. For no matter how hard you tried to bait him into giving more then a one word answer out of him, it always ends with Damian not taking the bait and allowing a air of awkward silence to befall you both while everyone else was having a better time then you.

You: hey Damian.

Him: hello l/n.

You: how have you been?

Him: in peak condition, why?

You: it’s because I don’t see you that much outside of school, it’s almost as if your allergic to social interaction.

Him: Tt. why should I go out of my way to do such a thing? I have you as an acquaintance don’t I?

You: I mean yeah I guess-

Him: then I have no need to expand my friend group, for they’ll only disappoint me. Now is that all?

You: I mean there’s not much else to talk about at this point.

Him: good.

*cue to the pair of you sitting in utter, awkward silence*

When Damian says one friend is all he needs, he genuinely means it. One is enough for him. He doesn’t need anymore because he knows that he doesn’t have the time for them. Plus he might not say it out loud but he does appreciate your friendship, even if your both awkward individuals within most social situations, but he is happy that someone finally gave him a chance to be a friend.

So even if you were to ever ask why you were friends it’ll probably go something a bit like this;

You: why are you friends with me?

Him: you aren’t an idiot, plus you’re the only one who isn’t insufferable.

You: is that meant to be taken as a compliment or…

Him: take it as you see fit.

You: okay…

Damian as a friend would be protective i’d like to think? I mean you are literally the first friend he’s made so naturally he’s going to feel something when he sees you being friends with anyone else that wasn’t him.

Was it insecurity that you not day might not want to be his friend anymore? Possibly.

Will he ever admit to it though? No. This is Damian we’re talking about, of course he won’t.

Also being friends with Damian would best summed up as being two people who shouldn’t work but ultimately do either way, kind of like an ‘against all their differences they’re the best of friends’ type of duo because nobody and I mean nobody saw a friendship between you two ever happening. Ever.

Not even the great Bruce Wayne.

Speaking about him. If you ever got to visit the Wayne Manor and meet his father aka THE Bruce Wayne. Take it as a sign as you’ve made it as Damian’s best friend.

Would you shit yourself upon meeting quite possibly the most powerful man in Gotham? Yes and your sweating buckets on top of that, all the while Damian would be stood next to you completely unfazed as he introduced you to his father as his best mate.

Damian: father.

Bruce: Damian.

Damian: *points to you* this is my best friend and I expect that they get treated with respect during their visit here.

You: hi- hello it’s an honour to meet you M-Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: tell me how you’ve come to befriend my son?

You: we were in the same art class and I noticed that he had no one to sit next to, and so I offered for him to sit with me, keep in mind I’m not that well liked and practically had a whole table to myself, and I’d like to think our friendship started with that small act of kindness Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: and had Damian been kind to you?

You: in his own unique way sir but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Bruce: *smiled* you’re a good kid l/n and you can go ahead and drop the formalities and call me Bruce instead. I shall go and tell Alfred to add another plate at the dinner table tonight.

Bruce, upon hearing that Damian had made a friend, wanted to meet you within immediate effect and see whether or not his son made for a good judge of character and he wasn’t disappointed.

Given the fact that you were awkward aside, you were defiantly what Damian needed for a friend, and Bruce was happy to see his son finally get to be normal for once as he watched from the window as Damian practically dragged you out to the spacious backyard with an excitable Titus on your heels as the Great Dane tried to get up and personal with you.

Alfred: they are certainly a pair, aren’t they master Bruce.

Bruce: an odd pair they may seem but they even out the other perfectly. Besides when was the last time Damian looked genuinely happy?

Alfred; can’t say that I recall sir.

Bruce: neither can I. At first I was sceptical but I’m glad being wrong. I can only hope that a friendship like theirs will stand the test of time because there will be times that will test their limits with one another. But if they’re as good a pair as I think they are then they’ll be perfectly fine.

Alfred: couldn’t have put it better myself sir *smiles alongside Bruce as they watched you and Damian act on your own within the others presence while in comfortable silence as Titus fell asleep at both of your feet.*

Yeah you’ll both be alright. You’ve got each other after all and that’s what matters at the end of the day.

#damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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dark-fics-4-you · 4 months

Note

possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut

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too-much-tma-stuff · 21 days

Text

Finally Getting Help (pt 13)

Masterpost

Danny was holding Jason’s hand so tight he felt like his fingers were creaking but Jason wasn’t about to say anything. They were waiting in the doctor's office for Danny’s first ultrasound and Jason was accompanying him as promised, if Danny needed to squeeze his hand that was what Danny needed to do then so be it, it was better the bolting, which it looked like he was considering. Leslie didn’t usually make people wait long but when she had an emergency she had an emergency, it didn’t matter that Bruce funded her clinic, and was sitting awkwardly in one corner, they could wait.

It had been decided that as Danny’s guardian and maybe boyfriend? Bruce and Jason would be the ones to go in with him, with Danny’s agreement of course. Jazz and Dick had both wanted to come too but they didn’t want to crowd the room or overwhelm Danny so it was decided they would stay close by but not come In. Just then they were waiting together at a cafe across the road in case they were needed.

“Alright, I’m sorry to keep you both waiting but you know how Gotham is,” Leslie said a little grim-faced and still stripping off bloody gloves as she walked into their room and tossed them into the trash can. “So, Danny right,” Danny nodded. “Will you come with me into a private room for your examination?” She asked, because of course she did, the phrasing too was carefully worded to not put him on the spot so if Danny was feeling at all threatened or uncomfortable about Jason and Bruce being there he wouldn’t be blamed for following her.

“You don’t have to,” She added quickly when Danny looked panicked and clung to Jason so tight Jason couldn’t help wincing. “We can move forward with the appointment if them being here makes you more comfortable?”

Danny nodded quickly so she nodded as well and sat down at her desk, opening a file on her computer. “So, you’re here for an ultrasound right?” She glanced over and Danny nodded again, he seemed to be feeling really shy, Jason had never seen him so nervous, Bruce looked worried. “But it says here you haven’t had a check up in years so would you mind if we do a general exam first? I would like to make sure that You are healthy before we move on to the babies.”

“Yes that’s fine, but you know I’m not fully human right?” Danny asked, she paused for barely a moment.

“I was told you had some differences,” she confirmed gingerly. “What should I expect?”

“Well, my heart rate is naturally slower than it used to be, and my body temperature is lower. Like I get to ‘healthy human’ temperatures when I have a bad fever. I don’t know what else has changed, honestly. I’ve been avoiding the doctor ever since my accident because I knew how my parents would react,” he said sounding tired and resigned.

“Well then we’ll take today as a paceline and monitor changes. If you’re feeling well today?” She suggested, she probably would have liked to get a baseline before Danny was pregnant but obviously that was impossible.

“Ya that’s fine, my heartrate is probably a bit fast because I’m nervous but I’m probably healthier then I’ve been in a while. I haven’t been getting into fights and I’ve been eating regularly after all!”

“Alright. I understand but there’s no need to be nervous. This is a safe environment, I won’t do anything that’s not medically necessary.”

“I know, if Bruce and Jason didn’t speak so highly of you I wouldn’t be here. They don’t seem to see eye to eye on much so if they both trust and like you you must be good,” Danny said with a little smile though he was still tense and pale. That anxiety wasn’t going anywhere fast. In the corner Brace gave a sort of strangled cough that had Jason glaring at him even though he didn’t really know what it meant.

“Alright, then let’s get started,” She said before she started Danny’s check-up, all of the normal things a doctor would do if a bit more thorough. Checking eyes, mouth, ears, heart and lungs, and reflexes, circulation and blood pressure. His heartbeat was slow and his blood pressure was low but Danny thought that was probably normal for him? She gave an unconvinced hum. “We’ll have weekly check ups and check it again then. If it’s sustained and doesn’t affect you then we can say it’s normal for you.” She agreed.

“Alright, well based on the information you’ve told me I think we’ve established a baseline and you’re healthy. Are you ready for your ultrasound?” She asked and Danny took a deep breath, Jason, still standing next to Danny, squeezed his hand gently.

“Ya, as ready as I’ll ever be,” Danny agreed.

“Thank you, just lay back and pull up your shirt please,” Dr. Leslie requested and Danny did as she’d asked as she pulled up the little monitor and set things up. In the background Bruce shifted so he could see the screen better. “There won’t be much to see,” Leslie warned, shooting Bruce a look as she applied the ultrasound gel. “It’s still too early.”

She put on a fresh pair of gloves and grabbed the wand, “Alright, let's have a look.” She said, pressing it carefully against Danny’s stomach.

Danny had let go of Jason’s hand while he lay down but now he grabbed around for Jason again, without looking away from the screen now showing inside his abdomen. Jason stepped closer and grabbed Danny’s hand, looking at his face rather than anything else, monitoring for signs the trepidation there might be getting to be too much. He knew Danny was nervous, but they didn’t want this to progress into a panic attack.

“There they are. Oh! Two, twins. You’re further along than I expected, 10 weeks by the looks of it?” She asked glancing at Danny who nodded.

“Ya, I’ve only been carrying them for 6 but they’re test tube babies,” he confirmed, his eyes fixed on the screen.

“Ah,” She sounded, nodding her understanding. “The little round things below their hearts are odd. Do they have two hearts? No, those ones aren’t beating…”

“Those are their cores,” Danny murmured before it seemed to hit him and he looked at Jason, his eyes wide with panic. “Oh my god I AM actually pregnant, it’s not just the cores, I’m pregnant, oh my god I’m pregnant,” he was starting to hyperventilate.

Dr. Leslie pulled back and Danny practically threw himself into Jason’s arm who held him tight as Danny hid against his chest and trembled. “Do you want us to call Jazz?” Jason offered softly as he held Danny and let him cry.

“No don’t go,” Danny hiccuped against Jason’s chest.

“I’ll call Jazz,” Bruce added, of course. He would want to help, he did care, but he never had any actual idea how to help. The emotionally unavailable bastard.

“Do you want me to leave?” Dr. Leslie asked gently. “I would like to have a better look at the twins to check on their development but if you need time I can come back later, or even another day.”

“Just-just give me a minute, please,” Danny sniffled as Jason rubbed his back.

“Of course. I know this is overwhelming,” Leslie said gently.

Jazz barged into the room and immediately hugged Danny a well, sandwiched safely between her and Jason. “Scruff him, it’ll help,” she told Jason, who nodded and squeezed the back of Danny’s neck.

He shuddered and then started to relax between the two of them, basically letting the two taller, and trusted, people hold him up. His sobs turned into sniffles and then a few deep breaths. “Okay, okay I think I’m ready. I want to know that they’re okay too. I know their cores are developing well but if they have human bodies, we need to make sure those are healthy too right?”

“Right. Do you want me to stay, or do you want Bruce to come back in?” Jazz asked gently.

“No, you and Jason stay please,” Danny said softly. He had thought it was right for Bruce to come in as his guardian, but it was Jazz who had really been looking after him for years. “There’s not much to see right now, just little blobs. We’ll tell him how it goes.”

Danny took another breath and then squirmed out of both of their arms and went to lay back on the table, pulling up his shirt again. Jason stood next to the examination table, taking Danny’s hand again, Jazz went and sat on the table by Danny’s head and stroked his hair while Dr. Leslie applied fresh jelly to his stomach since it had been worn off during his panic attack. Jason might have to change his shirt after this.

“Alright, let’s have another look shall we?” She said with a warm smile as she pressed the wand against his stomach again. She found the babies again fairly easily. “They seem to be sticking pretty close together,” She said with a little smile. “They’re active little things! It’s far too early to tell anything else about them but from what you’ve told me they seem to be on track and developing properly,” She said, pulling back and offering Danny a cloth to clean the gel off his stomach.

“Do you mind if we call Bruce back in? As your guardian I’d like him to be here for you treatment plan?” She asked.

“Sure, makes sense,” Danny agreed with a nod.

She nodded back and looked at Jazz, who nodded as well and ducked out to get Bruce. “While we’re mostly alone I want to know, do you know all your options Danny? You know you don’t have to carry them. They’re just embryos right now, not even conscious. Your health and safety comes first,” Dr. Leslie told him gently. She knew Jason was firmly pro-choice.

“No, I know,” Danny said with a little smile and a nod, looking down at his stomach and gently caressing it. “I know I don’t Have to do this. But I do want them. I’m already attached to them, you know?” He said looking up at her, worried that she would judge him. He hoped he was making the right choice, that he wasn’t ruining his life at 16 or something. Fuck he could be on that trashy tv show!

“I understand,” She assured, no hint of judgment on her face. Of course not, if she could treat rogues without judgment she sure as hell wasn’t going to judge a teen parent. She glanced up as the door opened again and Bruce and Jazz entered. “Right,” Leslie said, sitting down at her computer and starting to type. “You’re still a little malnourished so I’d like to get you taking prenatal vitamins immediately,” she said, glancing up to see Danny nod. “With your unique condition I’d like to see you more often than usual, weekly visits would be best for now. Once we’re sure you and the babies are okay we can go down to every other week.”

“I don’t think we need to do that,” Danny said, shifting nervously. “I mean you say the human side is looking good, and my ghost doctor says they’re developing well on that side, if slower than usual. I don’t need to come in every week,” He said looking hopeful.

She hesitated for a moment, organizing her thoughts and considering his words. “Even so, there’s clearly some bleed over that makes it hard to tell how healthy you are. I would feel better if you came weekly, at least for the first month so we can establish a true baseline.”

“Alright,” Danny said, drooping again, looking back at Bruce. “Can you make the appointment? I want to go home.”

“Sure Danny,” Bruce agreed, pulling out his planner to check their schedule.

“I’ll take you back to the manor,” Jason assured, using his grip on Danny’s hand to help him up.

“I’ll go back to the cafe with Dick, we were having a good conversation, I wouldn’t mind continuing it,” She said, giving Danny a smile. “Unless you want me to come?”

“No, that’s alright. Have fun Jazz,” Danny said, leaning against Jason and letting him usher Danny out of the clinic. Jazz waved as she crossed to the cafe where Dick was waiting, looking worried till he noticed them, then he smiled and waved. Jazz waved back and jogged across, about to tell Dick all about the twins no doubt.

Jason led Danny to his bike, and got on first, pulling Danny onto the seat behind him. Danny wrapped his arms around Jason and pressed against his back, half hiding from the world. Jason didn’t try to talk to him, he needed time to process. He would talk when he was ready to.

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #fanfiction #trans!danny #trans pregnancy #teen pregnancy #dead on main #bruce wayne #jazz fenton #dick grayson #eldest daughter syndrome #that's what Dick and Jazz are called as a ship right?#finally getting help AU #Danny is pregnant #tw dysphoria

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vaguely-concerned · 2 months

Text

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.) This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that.

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them.

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly.

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much.

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.)

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

#garashir #elim garak #julian bashir #star trek ds9 #ds9 #star trek #ds9 meta #S2EP22 The Wire #alternate title: baby's first brush with unconditional love through unreliable narration lol #I'm not sure I got to say everything I want to in this/found the exact right words in places or hit all the nuances #but god help me I so desperately need this out of my brain to free up some disc space so go forth little meta haha be free #I'm sure I'll come back to you in time #meta #enabran tain #(derogatory)

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delirious-donna · 1 month

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The Oral Lesson

an: the amount of time I spend thinking about these two men and how badly they might share a lover would probably see me on some kind of watch list… it’s more than time I put pen to paper, so to speak. This could be a series, maybe? Perhaps..? Depends on engagement (and I don’t mean likes alone!)

premise: It was meant to be a forbidden fantasy, one that would never become reality, but when you open your eyes to find the Hokage’s loyal guard dog on his knees before you, you know things have changed. However, it would be some time before you realise the enormity of this moment…

pairing: Hokage Kakashi x female reader x ANBU Obito

warnings: canon divergent (Obito always lives in my fics), NSFW throughout, without spoiling everything - its reader receiving oral, power play between the men, reader is married to Kakashi, reader is assumed curvy, touch starved is not the potential name of the series for no reason

There were no two ways about it, this had to be a dream.

The pinnacle of wet dreams that you would reminisce about for months, perhaps years, to come. Except the hand curled lightly around the column of your throat was all too realistic to be fantasy. Too familiar with roughened callouses covering the fingertips and edging the broad palm.

Kakashi Hatake—your husband.

His unique scent of oak-smoked wood chips, and that subtly sweet hint that you had never been able to give a name, filled your nose. At times, you would swear his scent reminded you of the scorched earth after a lightning strike, and it was true right now.

Your eyes flickered open, audibly gasping to see an ANBU shinobi sitting on his haunches before you. The mask was one you were all too familiar with, the painted whorls of the Hokage’s personal guard and you were privileged to know his true name… Obito Uchiha.

This couldn’t be happening. The teasing from moments ago felt like a lifetime passed and you squirmed atop Kakashi’s lap but were unable to escape. Do you really wish to? A small voice in your head said that you should, that what was being suggested was wrong but how badly you had desired this very outcome blew away those prim and proper reservations.

“Her pulse shot through the roof when you looked at her, Obito. I told you that she wanted this…”

You gasped to hear your husband speak about you like this, though the words were not untrue. The hollows of the eye holes shifted from deep midnight pits to blazing crimson orbs that seared your skin with tantalising warm fire without so much as touching you. His breathing was becoming laboured as he sat there, hands laying flat on his thighs in a position of submission.

Obito was only this composed and subservient for one man—your man—and it aroused you to see that there was a strain in his posture to maintain his stance. The threads of his compliance frayed beneath the weight of his desire.

“Kashi,” you breathed, voice barely more than a whisper though your gaze never left Obito’s. Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth, the thin cotton of your dress smothering despite being lightweight and flimsy on your body. The heat of Kakashi’s body beneath you certainly didn’t help matters, nor did the intense fiery blaze you were captivated by.

He hummed in response. “Hm? Something to say, sweetheart? Weren’t you just finishing telling me that you’d let him put his hands and mouth on you if I agreed?”

With an embarrassed moan, you tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. Mortified beyond belief that Kakashi would so openly admit the hushed words of your most forbidden fantasies, ones you never thought would come to fruition.

“Don’t be shy, my love. Obito feels the same way, although I guess you didn’t know that,” Kakashi drawled with such measured control that you were reminded exactly how he reached this position of power. Not many could act so calmly in high-pressure situations, but Kakashi excelled where others failed. Simply another reason to love him as much as you did.

Obito hadn’t said a word up to this point, not even the smallest sound escaped his mouth and you marvelled at his self-control. The metal arm guards that normally covered his forearms were nowhere to be seen, the same for the grey flak jacket you were accustomed to.

Now, he knelt on the floor in only the standard ANBU dark pants, a black sleeveless compression shirt that covered up to his throat and equally black gloves that ended halfway up his biceps.

You were endlessly fascinated by those biceps.

The way they bulged when his hands curled into fists only to flatten back into some semblance of submission seconds later. Your breathing became harsh watching the action be repeated in an endless loop. Without realising, you pushed yourself upright on Kakashi’s lap, your fingers curling into his forearm each time Obito made his own fists until you made indents with the edges of his nails.

Behind you, Kakashi smiled. “You’ve been rather quiet, Obito… don’t you have anything to say to my wife?”

“I… don’t know if that would be wise, Lord Sixth,” Obito muttered after a long drawn-out moment of silence. His voice was deeper than Kakashi, rougher around the edges and you could hear the forced formality enough to know it grated down his spine to speak this way.

The three of you had shared many casual moments, it was a given since the two men were friends and rivals from years gone past. Heavens, you had cooked for this man. Shared stories of their youth over bottles of wine. Patched rips in his uniform.

Kakashi clicked his tongue. “Lose the airs and graces, you’re not here as my guard. Speak freely and tell my wife how much you covet her.”

You gasped, turning your head to meet charcoal eyes filled with humour, but while you stared, you could make out a darkness that spoke of something else. A power play? It should make you feel vulnerable… used, yet it was quite the opposite.

To be desired by two powerful men, one the Hokage and the other the current highest-ranking ANBU captain in Konoha. Your beloved husband and his best friend, though both would try to deny such a claim. You were damp between your thighs, arousal pooling into the seat of your underwear and it warmed your cheeks until you were certain it was obvious.

“It’s true. I’ve wanted a taste of what you have for some time now. Not that I would have ever done anything about it!” He asserted, eyes never leaving your face whilst he spoke to the man at your back. “But if she is willing and you… are willing to share—”

“Under my supervision and guidance only. Take off the mask, let our pretty girl see you without the guise of an animal,” Kakashi interjected whilst pressing a kiss to your neck.

The animal mask fell to the side, skittering across the floor and out of sight. It left only the man. The scars on his face from years gone by did nothing to detract from how handsome he was. His lips were pleasingly plump, nose nice and straight and those eyes—those beautiful expressive eyes—were easy to fall into and lose yourself entirely. Even without the Sharingan activated, you were drawn to those dark, all-seeing eyes.

“May he touch you, sweetheart? Shall I teach him how to please you? Let us see if he can make you mewl as I can,” he hummed, nipping at your ear and drawing his hands higher to paw lightly at your breasts.

A nod was all you could manage, followed by yet another gasp of alarm when Obito leaned close and kissed the outside of your knee. He’d moved so swiftly that following the movement was impossible.

His touch was delicate, careful as if he worried you’d break if he were to show his true colours. With his assistance, you spread your legs until they bracketed the outside of Kakashi’s beneath you. The man in question gripped at your dress and bunched it higher until your underwear came into view.

Obito appeared transfixed and a vein popped in his temple from tightly he held his jaw. The muscles of his biceps bulged against the snug hold of his long gloves and when he raised a hand to touch your pubic mound through the cotton fabric, you sighed breathily and shifted your hips.

“Is she wet?”

His crimson eyes shot up to yours, searching for permission to reply, and you smiled kindly, a wave of affection forming in your chest. “Y-yes. Right here…” Obito stroked his gloved fingertip over the small damp patch.

“I’m not surprised, she’s been squirming ever since you came in. Perhaps, I should have arranged this sooner,” Kakashi mused quietly whilst leaning back in his chair so your butt was in the air. “Take them off her, please.”

“Kashi, I can…” You tried to free your arms to help shimmy out of the troublesome underwear but a bite to your collarbone silenced you. The sting of sharp canines elicited a slow pant from your throat, your sight growing hazy and before you knew it, a cool breeze played across your bare pussy.

The chill wind didn’t last, it was replaced by warm lips on the inside of your thigh, thick black hair obscuring your view and you clung to Kakashi at the shiver that rippled down your spine. His breathing was steady in your ear, the feel of a smile on your skin whilst Obito pressed kisses, which started gentle, to your plush flesh until they were messy and open-mouthed.

“You can be a little rough with her, she likes it… don’t you, my precious girl?”

Despite his continued presence and hold on your throat and breasts, you jerked in alarm when Kakashi spoke. The implication of the statement had you clenching around air and you heard Obito’s muffled groan when he too noticed.

“Mhm. Please. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something,” you managed after licking your parched lips.

Obito wasted no time in nudging his nose along your labia, smelling you until he couldn’t stand it any longer, and parted your folds with two thick fingers. You could feel all the blood in your body zero in on your core, skin becoming puffy in anticipation. Scintillating wet warmth sent a hiss through your clenched teeth, the path of his tongue along the full length of your slit arching your spine and forcing your heaving breasts further into your husband’s grasp.

The man on his knees glanced up at you through his eyelashes, careful to judge your every movement and noise for possible signs of distress but he found none. The strong muscle created wave-like patterns over your achingly empty hole and passed it to just below your pert clit. It was a sensation you were unaccustomed to, but it scratched an itch you didn’t even know you had.

Your eyes flickered shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth. You were ready to absorb every stroke and touch, every wet-sounding kiss and the melody of three people breathing in tandem, but Kakashi had other ideas. How he even knew your eyes had fallen closed, you weren’t sure, but he withdrew his hand from your chest to click his fingers. It was a soft click, enough to cause your eyes to spring wide and you tilted your head back to meet his hooded gaze.

“You really should watch whilst our guest eats you out, dear, it’s only polite. How is he doing? Make sure he knows what you want.”

His voice was a whole octave lower and you could feel the rigid length of his erection pressed firmly into your lower back. He was turned on by the act he was witnessing and that only served to stoke your fires higher.

As if to prove a point before you could speak, Obito licked across the surface of your clit for the first time. It was barely a kitten lick but it was more than ample to short-circuit your brain. Your brows knitted together, mouth falling into a deep oval of enthralment at being teased like this. In response, your hips undulated only to be trapped in two gloved palms.

“So good… I-I want more,” you admitted with your shuttered stare being met with a blazing inferno that looked more than ready to blow.

Kakashi licked over a fresh mark he’d not long finished sucking into your neck, the act of possession was not lost on anyone in the room and he chuckled softly. “Mhm, give the lady what she wants, Obito. I want to hear how she sounds coming apart by your hand and mouth.”

Obito sat back for a moment, his lips swelling steadily from his actions and skin coated in a thin sheen of your slick. Strands of his black hair stuck to his forehead and you reached forward to brush them back, warmed when he nuzzled into the heart of your palm. You missed the heat of his mouth on you, squirming around to find a position that would alleviate the ache growing rapidly in the pit of your belly.

“Lo—Kakashi, I want to fuck her with my fingers. Is that… uh, is that okay?”

The furious flush that washed over his cheeks was downright adorable, as was how he refused to meet your eye while your husband pretended to ponder. You knew he’d allow it, it was something you had discussed before this even beginning, back when you were certain it would remain a fantasy.

“Who do you wish to fuck with your fingers?” Kakashi prompted, the smile evident in his words and you whined in protest. It earned you a pinch to your nipple, enough to silence you.

Obito cleared his throat, swallowing down his pride in search of what he wanted above all else. “Your wife. I want to fuck your wife with my fingers. Please.” The nicety was forced, his nostrils flaring as if ready for a verbal argument but none came.

“My wife, that’s right. Do as you please, just make her cum nice and loud.”

This side of Kakashi rarely came out—the cool demeanour which spoke of calculating control. It made you weak at the knees, heart in your throat whenever he set those predatory eyes on you and you could well understand Obito’s reaction to the pulse of dominant power. He too was used to being an alpha presence given his line of work, and especially since he chose to become the Hokage’s personal guard. A decision he would never have made for anyone other than Kakashi.

The power play ignited the room with dense tension that felt like swimming through honey, and to realise that you were the object of affection, the reason this was even happening in the first place… you didn’t feel worthy.

However, you had no time to process these thoughts as the man on the floor took his permission with a sharp nod of his head and lunged for you. The poor little mouse was trapped by the jaws of a lion, but this feline was far from going to harm you. Instead, he was gentle despite how eagerly he moved.

His tongue bathed your tender pearl in his spit, lapping it incessantly until he changed directions and suckled you between his lips. You cried out, only to be blindsided by the intrusion of two thick fingers. Whilst you had focused on the mouth set to wring you dry of your bliss, you hadn’t noticed the dance of his fingers which collected your nectar to coat his gloves.

The warm leather rubbed soft friction into your velvet walls, stretching you just right. It felt wonderful, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it would feel more so without the gloves in the way. A small voice in the back of your head boldly decided that you would request his bare hands the next time.

Next time… Would there even be a next time to speak of? You didn’t know, but you could hope.

Kakashi’s breath fanned your wildly beating pulse, smearing open-mouthed kisses in between words of encouragement. His voice was your guide when you couldn’t keep your eyes open. When you did finally find the resolve to pry them apart, you found your hand tangled at the roots of Obito’s midnight black hair.

He was working you closer and closer to the point of no return, wet slurps mingled with your moans of more and the steady rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His wrist rotated suddenly, fingertips brushing that deep area of sensitive tissue that your own fingers could never reach.

“Oh. Fuck… right there. Obito, don’t stop.”

Both men jolted at your keening declarations; Obito glanced up with his chin shiny with the gloss of your making, cheeks flushed from where your thighs had crushed around his head, and Kakashi groaned deep in his throat.

His slender fingers lowered the neck of your dress and repeated the action with the cups of your bra. He licked his thumb and finger and rolled your nipple between, drawing it out taut until you whimpered and struggled. “Ah ah, don’t thrash. Look down and see how well my guard dog is eating you out, beloved.”

You tightened instinctively, squeezing around Obito’s fingers, who doubled down on the pace he stroked you to. His nose ground at the hood of your clit, tongue swiping left and right then up and down. He was losing his restraint, pushing into you only to be met by the force of you rutting your cunt into him. A growl rumbled in his chest at being called a guard dog, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Gods, you wanted to be full. To cum around more than just fingers and feel how they would react to you orgasming on their cock. Did you want your husband or Obito or… both? The thought alone tripped your orgasm into effect. You were barely aware of Obito pulling his wet fingers from your cunt to press his tongue into your fluttering hole instead, intent on catching every drop of your nectar and swallowing it greedily.

Kakashi cooed soft words in your ear, coaxing you through your high and stroking over your hair whilst you sobbed from the overwhelming and continued stimulation from the plush muscle digging into you in search of your slick. Those wet gloved hands gripped into the meat of your thighs, keeping you open and forcing you to endure what he wanted to give.

“Obito, enough. Let our little flower catch her breath.” You heard the command distantly, twitching and still seeking out grounding from your high.

Dazedly, you blinked and moaned anew at the expression written across Obito’s face. His cheeks were ruddy, lips swollen with blood and the lower half of his face streaked with a mixture of your arousal and his spit. His chest heaved with the struggle of retreating, every muscle in his body tense and straining and how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him.

“Kashi, sweetheart, let me go to him?” You asked softly, turning so your words were in his ear, your lips on his neck. He regarded you with a look of unconditional love, eyes softened with affection and a smile decorating his lips which was a far cry from the cool power play of earlier.

He kissed you on the forehead, fixing your dress to cover your exposed breasts and lowering the hem. A lone finger traced the curve of your jaw, moving to brush over your lips and you caught him by surprise by pressing them to his and savouring the warmth of his mouth.

Kakashi was familiar with being touch-starved, as were you. It was something that helped to bind you together in those early days and you both recognised that Obito was also touch-starved and in need of a demonstration of how welcoming love and affection could be. He nodded, his nose nudging along yours and embracing you with delicate care.

“Show him how amazing it can feel. I trust you, both of you.” Kakashi added those final words loud enough for Obito to hear. His eyebrows pinched in confusion, but he had no time to assess the meaning when you slid from your husband’s lap only to be caught by Obito.

You wound your arms around his neck and settled your head right there in the crook. Twisting your fingers into the hairs at his nape, you pressed kisses to his shoulder until he finally placed his hands on your waist. His touch was unsure, body rigid with nerves and you could understand.

“Thank you, Obito… you made me feel more alive than I thought possible. Let me hold you, it’s okay.”

His chin dipped until his cheek rested on your shoulder and some of the tension drained from his body. It had meant to be a fantasy scenario of being shared but it would be so much more than that in time and you would discover this in the months to come.

For now, you calmed your racing heart and gave the man held in your arms a piece of you that was worth more than any orgasm. All under the watchful and loving eye of your husband, the master strategist…

Taglist: @angelic-muse @actuallysaiyan @angel-teeth @adharadotcom @whatshernameis @rookie98writes @basementqueercock @valleyxdoodles @snapemalfoy @fiestynatureweeb @mel-star636 @karleequinn @he-art-pulp @half-baked-biscuit

#delirious writes #kakashi x reader #obito x reader #kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #kakashi smut #obito smut #kakashi hatake smut #obito uchiha smut #kakashi x reader x obito

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tkaulitzlvr · 7 months

Note

i’ll be needing a part 2 of persistent pls🤭

PERSISTENT (2) - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you realise that you have pushed your limits after your antics at the club earlier, tom not holding back on showing you this once you both arrive home.

content: smut

a/n: i have no idea why so many people wanted a part two to persistent, but its been asked for in both my inbox and comments so i decided to do it so u guys can leave me alone🙄🙄, but yea hope this lives up to ur expectations (they better be low bc this is terrible💯)

the house is silent, my heavy feet trudging up the stairs, a small smile on my face as i anticipate what tom has on his mind - though i know deep down that i shouldn’t be excited. he wouldn’t go easy on me, not after how i had acted. in fact, the way his jaw remained clenched, eyes dark and cold, hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles began to turn white, veins prominent through them, if i had any sense within me, i would be scared - knowing that whatever unspoken words he is holding back would not be gentle ones, his actions bound to be even less forgiving. though i am far too focused on the pleasure he will bring me to consider the fact that he probably doesn’t plan on showing me any remorse, not at all regretting my attitude, even though i probably should.

when tom would get like this, so utterly infuriated with me, he wouldn’t hold back, switching from the gentleness he usually showed me in bed, often leading to me uttering the safe word that he had put in place for instances like this. when he would often act on impulse, unable to judge when it became simply too much, his anger driving him to be a little too reckless, the short word acted as a safety net, tom knowing that he had to stop, no matter how much part of him wanted to keep going, this his way of teaching me a lesson. it never seemed to work though, the thought of him being rough only turning me on, leading me to act this way in order to get this side out of him.

however, the new presence of this word meant that no matter how much i begged him to stop, his pace wouldn’t falter until i uttered the four letter word - blue. it didn’t matter how many tears ran down my cheeks, knuckles clutching the sheets so hard that they turned white, mouth open in silent screams, muttering words of discomfort, he would only speed up his movements, knowing that unless i said the word, i enjoyed the pain in some twisted way, not wanting it to stop despite the way my voice would say otherwise.

the room is quiet as i enter it, bed neatly made, cushions laid out in a specific pattern, sheets tucked perfectly into the sides, not a single crease visible on the white silk. it is a shame - i know tom too well to recognise that it won’t look that way for much longer, the bed likely to become a complete mess before he has even entered me. somehow i don’t flinch when the sound of the front door roughly opening echoes throughout the peace, diminishing it instantly. the loud slam that follows instead sends a surge of excitement through me, a knowing smirk on my face, not ready to let tom win just yet.

so i act nonchalant, calmly walking over to my vanity, humming incoherently, my hands grabbing a makeup wipe from the side, making contact with my skin as i begin to wipe my makeup off, starting with my foundation. i had noticed his footsteps making their way up the stairs the second his foot had made contact with the carpet, yet i tuned the sound out, continuing my innocent humming, acting like tom isn’t minutes, maybe seconds, away from fucking me so hard my vocal chords wouldn’t have the strength to whisper anymore, let alone sing to myself.

my eyes close as the makeup wipe glides over the skin, leaving a baby pink residue on the material, my face now bare besides from the red tinge still present on my lips.

“the fuck are you doing?” his low voice sounds through the room, my eyes turning to the reflection of the mirror, met with his large frame stood in the frame of the door. he had been stern with me since finding me outside the club, clearly thinking that his threats would scare me, not expecting to find me doing the exact opposite of what he had instructed, his expression more angry than ever.

“taking off my make up. i’ve told you it’s bad for me to sleep with it on, i don’t want my skin to break out.” i ramble, shrugging nonchalantly as i begin to stand up. my face is neutral, yet inside, my nerves tinge with satisfaction at the sight of tom’s jaw clenching, a loud groan leaving his lips.

he says nothing, my back to him as i begin to reach for the zipper of my dress, though i don’t get far. his own hands roughly tug mine away from my back, placing them harshly by my side as he spins me around, pushing my body against his and smashing his lips onto mine. the kiss is nothing short of desperate, rough and sloppy, tongues fighting for dominance, this enough to distract me from his quick steps that walk me into the wall, my back colliding harshly with it.

“you just don’t know when to fucking stop, do you?” he grunts, tugging his large black jacket from his frame, discarding it somewhere on the floor. his hands firmly grab my face, pulling it towards his own and reconnecting our lips, his teeth biting mine harshly, marvelling at the small whine of discomfort that leaves my lips, eager to cause me small drabs of pain - not enough to hurt me, but just the right amount to make me lose my stubbornness.

“jump.” he mutters against my lips, his hands hooking underneath my thighs in anticipation for my movement, yet i shake my head, much to his disbelief, a small smile tugging on my lips.

he pulls away, eyes narrowing once he picks up on my amusement, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

“you think this is funny, hm? come on, laugh again, i dare you.” he begins, studying the way the smile on my face slowly fades, caving in as he towers over me, one arm resting against the wall behind me. he nods his head, signalling me to show the same sense of entertainment i gained from disobeying him, though he doesn’t receive it, my mouth closing, eyes looking upwards into his own innocently.

“that’s what i fucking thought. y’know, i think you’ve forgotten your place. you really need me to remind you? ‘cause you know i will schatz.” he threatens, a satisfied grin on his lips once he realises how submissive i have become. i stay silent, a small hum leaving his lips as his hands grab the flesh of my thighs, hoisting me upwards. my back is flush against the wall, hips directly against his as he holds me up, fingers digging into the skin, my dress riding upwards slowly.

“fucking pathetic.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over mine, immediately noticing the way my head moves forwards slowly, silently begging for him to kiss me once again. for a second, he puts me out of my misery, capturing my lips in a soft kiss, humming into it slightly, acknowledging the way i quickly kiss back, unapologetically desperate for him. though he pulls away once he has hooked me in to the point that my kisses become faster, tugging on my lips slightly as he moves backwards, smiling sadistically when i whine in frustration, taking one hand and smoothly caressing my cheek, taunting me more than he ever has before.

he stays teasingly close, torturing me at this point, dipping his head even closer momentarily, dragging his thumb across my lips, collecting my saliva. he adores my weakness, loving how he is already in control, continuing to tease me despite the fact that he has won - he had the second he came to find me at the bar. we both knew that, yet i kept up my guard for too long, it’s presence now so thin it is almost non-existent.

“i don’t know why you try to act like you’re in charge. you and i both know you’ll be screaming my name in five minutes. you don’t have to hide it, i can read you like a book. you know it, you’re just humiliating yourself.” he chuckles lowly at my silence, dipping his head downwards as his lips make contact with my neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin. i tilt it to the side, giving him easy access.

my eyes fluttering shut once his lips touch the sensitive spot below my ear, i know that he has me under his control. and when he tears me away from the wall, walking over to the bed with my thighs still hooked around his waist, i don’t try to fight it anymore. he is frustrated, much more than he was when we entered the car, me disobeying him just once was enough for him to lend me no sympathy, this communicated once my back makes contact with the bed, roughly colliding with the soft mattress.

he climbs on top of me, my legs spreading instinctively to allow him within them, and closer to the place where i needed him most. sure, he would’ve found his way between them regardless of if i had obliged or not, but i decide to make part of it easier for him. his hands pull them apart even further, my dress now bunched up at my hips, lace panties on show for him.

“where’s that fucking attitude of yours now, hm?” he questions, studying the way my chest heaves up and down, the wet patch on my panties inches away from his face as he bends downwards, placing a soft kiss over the material, my hips bucking upward at the unexpected act. he grabs the flesh, forcing them back downwards, his head emerging from between my legs.

“don’t think i’m going easy on you ‘cause you’ve stopped acting like such a brat.” he states, hands roughly tugging my panties down as he speaks. “we’re past that point now. you’re getting fucked until you can’t use that mouth of yours to act out anymore.”

his words aren’t a threat, no, they are nothing short of a promise. sure, he says a lot of things when he is angry, but right now, each syllable that pours from his beautiful lips is nothing but the truth. and, whilst i couldn’t hide from the slight fear that habituated within me, the aching between my thighs overpowered it, throbbing desperately, needy for some sort of stimulation.

my silence is music to his ears. even though my acts of rebellion fuel his desire to ruin me, he much prefers me at his mercy, begging for him, my entire body his possession, his name written all over it, marking me as his own.

once my panties are somewhere on the floor, he moves to my dress, motioning for me to sit up, his calloused fingers attaching themselves to the zipper, tugging it downwards with such force the soft material rips. i gasp in disappointment, a tinge of anger rising within my chest, prompting the misbehaved side of me to make another appearance.

“are you fucking kidding me? that dress cost-”

“fucking shut up. i’ll get you a new one.” he mutters, tugging the material off of my body, leaving me completely naked beneath him, tom still completely dressed.

normally, i love his style, his baggy jeans and layers of t-shirts suiting him perfectly in most circumstances. yet right now, when i want nothing more than to feel his body against my own, it proves to be more of an inconvenience. he tugs the oversized denim downwards and off of his frame, his t-shirt soon following once he manages to tear it off. his dick prints firmly through his boxers, the outline prominent through the material, the thickness of it making the heat in my thighs unbearable as i move to clench them together, desperate for some sort of friction.

he shakes his head, roughly prying them apart with one hand, the other raking his boxers downward, his dick hitting his lower abdomen, the tip red, his erection so prominent it looks almost painful.

“all fours.” he orders, stroking himself a few times, watching as i turn around, positioning myself as he asked. he groans breathily from behind me, pumping himself a few times before i feel his tip meet my entrance.

he is unforgiving, thrusting his hips forward in one fast motion, moving his dick completely inside of me, not giving me any time to adjust as he usually would. i cry out in pain, my walls stretched out to the point that it is uncomfortable, the feeling of his tip prodding deep inside of me, combined with his thickness continuing to stretch me out creating a sensation that causes tears to build in my eyes.

“fuck- it’s too much…hurts.” i manage to let out, voice shaky as the angle doesn’t at all help my case. in fact it worsens it, my back arched in the air, arms flat against the bed, shaking as they try to hold me up, close to letting out.

“take it.” he says, cursing underneath his breath as he begins a fast pace, almost pulling out completely, before slamming back into me. “you want to act like a brat, i’ll treat you like one. you wanted this, don’t back out now.”

he knows that he is being rough, he can tell from the way low whimpers leave my lips with each quick movement of his hips. words almost inaudible, small utterances of discomfort muffled into the sheets, soon fading into screams of pleasure, cries of pure ecstasy, proving just how much he was right. and though i cannot see his face, my own smushed into the pillows, through his small groans, i can sense the sadistic smirk on his lips as he continues to pound into me.

“look at you, so fucking needy.” he taunts, his hand slowly reaching to grab my hair as i silently thank myself for tying it in a ponytail earlier. though now it is wild, wispy hairs falling from the hair tie, the ends ruffled slightly. yet he is able to take it easily, using it to pull my body upwards, back flush against his chest. he doesn’t make any attempt to be gentle, a loud yelp sounding from my lips as he ensures our bodies are pressed together, his fingers continuing to run through my hair.

“try to talk back now, like you did earlier on. you can’t, can you?” he questions, already knowing the answer. my mouth is wide open in a silent scream, head resting back against his shoulder as breathing consistently even proves difficult, tuning out everything besides from the sharp movements of his dick in and out of me. even his words are muffled, not registering in my head, this providing him with even more satisfaction, any communication soon melting into loud gasps, unable to muster any sort of response.

“doesn’t matter how many times i tell you. you’ll never learn, will you?” he scolds, his own voice shaky, often cut off with small groans, faltering especially when my walls clench around him. “takes me fucking you like this for you to shut that mouth of yours. you and your damn attitude.”

each time i clench around him, drawing his dick deeper inside of me, i wonder how much more i can take. god, i swear i can feel him inside my stomach, so full it is hard to breathe, the air, thick with the smell of sex, not helping my state. he seems to become more relentless, running his hands down my back, only to forcefully push my head back into the sheets, my high pitched moans now muffled into the silk, back arching subconsciously, each stroke of his cock inside of me making me more weak, swearing that i will collapse if he continues, struggling to hold my lower half up despite tom’s harsh grip on it.

his hand finds it way to my stomach, snaking around my waist to press downwards harshly, my mouth falling open at the sensation, able to feel every inch of him inside me, unable to hold back the loud cries that pour from my lips.

“fuck- oh my god!” i whine, lifting my head upwards from the sheets momentarily, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. my entire body trembles, the knot in my stomach tightening with each harsh thrust, his hips snapping against me at an even faster pace, his momentum somehow increasing.

“you feel it, hm?” he groans, fingers digging into the flesh of my hips, nails leaving marks in place of the soft skin. “sometimes you don’t realise how lucky you are. that you’re the only girl- fuck! you’re the only girl who gets to feel me inside of you, yet you can’t help yourself, can you? always have to act out…shit!”

the soft curses that spill from his lips become more frequent, this along with the feeling of his dick twitching inside of me letting me know that he is close too.

“i can’t- gonna cum!” i moan, pushing myself backwards so that i am closer to him, forcing him that little bit deeper inside of me. i writhe my hips, squirming slightly as my release is within arms reach, silently praying that he will put me out of my misery and let me cum - knowing that i am stupid to think that he is going to be so lenient.

“fucking hold it. you’re not cumming yet, you don’t deserve to.” he states, thrusting a few more times before his dick twitches one final time, ropes of his hot cum shooting into me. his nails dig into my ass as he kneads it, his release continuing to wash over him, a chorus of loud grunts leaving his lips.

now he is moving so slowly, riding out his high, teasing me by doing so, the slow strokes of his cock inside of me more unforgiving than his fast movements before. his tip, milking out the last drops of cum, now hits my g-spot repeatedly, each deep thrust sending me literally insane as it becomes impossible to hold my release.

“please- i can’t…i need to cum, can’t hold it.” my begging is almost pitiful to him, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he keeps moving in and out of me, despite the fact that his climax has been and gone.

“you wanna cum, hm?” he teases, pushing me upwards by my stomach so that my back is pressed against him once again. this time, his lips make contact with my neck, nibbling at the skin, his tongue running over it soon after, the feeling only making it more difficult as i continue to beg.

“mhm…please tom, let me cum. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” i plead, my words coming out as a low whine, tears cascading helplessly down my cheeks. he hums against me, the bass within his voice sending a shiver throughout my body.

“hmmm, are you really sorry, baby?” he teases, knowing that i am willing to say anything to let go of the knot in my stomach, on the verge of screaming at the top of my lungs in pure rage.

“mhm, yeah…i’m so sorry…i’ll be good from now on…so good! please, let me cum- shit!” my voice is hoarse, throat sore from the loud moans that have escaped from the back of it, completely worn out, beyond desperate to feel my release.

“go on baby, cum for me, c’mon.” he says, kissing my shoulder slowly as i nod my head vigorously, letting go of the tight knot in my stomach.

my head falls backwards, eyes squeezing shut, swearing that i can see stars as my mouth falls open, a high-pitched moan escaping from it as i clench around him one last time, my release washing over me. i almost fall forwards at the feeling, so overwhelming that i lose the strength to hold myself upright. tom collapses with me, still thrusting in and out from above me, fucking his load deeper inside of me, his chest heaving up and down as he does so.

his movements slow down as i sigh in relief, completely spent. however he pulls out of me momentarily, only to flip me on my back in one swift movement, quickly bottoming out inside of me once again.

i cry out at the sensation, unable to handle the feeling of his sharp thrusts, overly sensitive from being teased for so long before.

“i can’t take it…it’s too much!” i whine, already a moaning mess, yet this time, the pain overtakes the pleasure, coursing within me no matter how much i attempt to drown it out, his rough strokes stretching me out so much that it soon becomes uncomfortable.

“yes, you can.” he states, holding my arms above my head, his hands keeping my wrists in place. he is adamant on ensuring that i learn my lesson, and, the discomfort that overtakes any other feeling silently confirms that i will never act out again, struggling to stay still as my entire body squirms.

“please…i can’t…”

“not stopping until you learn that you don’t get to act like a fucking brat and not get punished for it.” he says, circling his hips a little, moving in and out ever so slowly, reducing the speed of his thrusts, instead focusing on the small whines that he elicits from my lips at the change in pace, noticing the way my face contorts in pleasure.

the slight change in angle allows him to press directly against my spot, rather than brushing past it with each deep stroke, another release soon building up within me, the overstimulation meaning it doesn’t take much to take me there. and, i can tell that he is getting close too, his breathing becoming fast and heavy, hands squeezing the flesh of my thighs as he uses them to thrust in and out of me.

he fills me up once again, teeth sinking into his lip as he does so, a restricted whine emitting from the back of his throat, the sudden pressure triggering my own climax. my hands find their way to his biceps, maintaining a tight hold as i squeeze them harshly, chest heaving up and down, unable to handle the slow rocking of his hips. he rides out his high, before picking up his pace once again, clearly looking for a third round, seemingly unaffected by his two previous orgasms. he is pushing my limits and he knows it, watching the way my face twists, forehead lined with sweat.

his head falls backwards, eyes fully closed, mouth slightly open, and, if he wasn’t so lost in his own satisfaction, i am sure that he would be teasing me somehow, reminding me how pathetic i look underneath him, or scolding me for my antics earlier on. though he saves his energy, instead using it to build up his pace, tuning out the sound of my small whines.

“stop- i can’t anymore!” i beg, tears rolling down my cheeks, my voice small and shaky, legs trembling uncontrollably.

this time, he knows that i mean it, when i take my hand, taking it firmly, with as much strength as i can muster, against his chest, attempting to push him away. but, despite this realisation, he keeps going, not showing any intention of stopping, not until i say the word. yet it is on the tip of my tongue, holding back from saying it just yet, enjoying the pain in some messed up way. though i know that i am spent, unable to do anything but exhale rapidly, just able to shape together the word “blue.”

his eyes shoot open, movements coming to an immediate stop, face softening once he registers my state - eyes bloodshot, body shaking, lips wavering as they attempt to hold back the sobs dangerously close to sounding from them.

“shit- fuck baby, i’m sorry, are you okay?” he rambles, quickly climbing off of me, wrapping his arms around my small frame and pulling me into him, rubbing my back comfortingly.

“i’m fine it’s just- too much.” i whisper, my voice barely audible, throat raw. he notices this straight away, pulling me closer into his embrace, planting soft kisses into my hair, mumbling small apologies into it every few seconds, listening to my breathing as it eventually slows, my body relaxing into him, his hold on me making it easy to fall into a deep sleep, tom’s soft snores soon following.

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