#from these past few weeks but waves a hand a lil

[sxcret-garden]

3rd Desire ღ A Little Jealousy [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang & Wooyoung ღ words: ~4.8k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, clothed sex, teasing, tiny bit of finger sucking (idol receiving), oral (idol receiving), he’s a lil mean again, hair pulling, biting, dacryphilia, bit of brat-taming, reader goes into subspace, sir kink, fingering (reader receiving), unprotected sex) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamic, (he runs his hand through reader’s hair and picks her up)

Desc.: When you’re meeting up with your classmate and friend Yeosang in order to finally finish that dreaded uni project that’s been keeping you on edge for the past weeks, you don’t expect him to bring along his flirtatious friend Wooyoung. What you also don’t expect is said friend knowingly attempting to flirt with you in front of your boyfriend, who just can’t help but let the hint of jealousy it makes him feel influence his actions once you’re in the comfort of your own home.

Author's note: This is actually one of my fav chapters so far, and 80% of the reason is because the first scene was so much fun to write kasjdfkljsöldka

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Arriving at the café a few minutes early, you find Yeosang already waiting for you. You came here from your university dorms, about 20 minutes by bus, so you didn’t expect to be late, but you tend to always leave a little earlier than you have to anyway, just to be sure.

Your meet-up place is a cute little café that turns out to be a lot more spacious than one would assume looking at it from the outside, and it serves all the classics, as well as a couple of drinks that are especially popular these days.

“Did everybody send you their parts?” you ask, starting up your laptop, while Wooyoung watches the alarm that’s supposed to tell you when your drinks are ready.

“I thought they were supposed to send them to you…?” Yeosang replies, eyes widened because he doesn’t want this meeting to already turn into a catastrophe. The frustration that your teammates have continuously nurtured with their incompetence over the past two weeks bubbles up deep inside you again, until you check your emails and you find that they did indeed send their parts to you.

“Sorry, my bad,” you sigh deeply.

“It can happen,” Yeosang assures you, while the alarm goes off, shaking the whole table as it vibrates, and Wooyoung immediately grabs it and gets up. You’re glad he’s at least being useful in that regard - otherwise you’re not sure why Yeosang brought his friend from an entirely different major along to your café date of hell.

“He insisted,” your teammate tells you upon posing your question. “Actually I don’t know why I brought him either.”

“Excuse me?!” Wooyoung exclaims in offense as he returns with your order, having heard his friend’s reply. But Yeosang is quick to wave it off.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” To your surprise his loud friend merely sits down while eyeing him with a doubtful expression, but he doesn’t say anything more to that. Finding yourself more fascinated than anything else by their dynamic, you shake your head eventually and redirect your attention to the screen in front of you. 

“I’ll send you the parts so we can go over them together,” you announce as you’re already dropping the files into your kakao chat with Yeosang, the familiar tone coming from the speakers of his laptop signaling an incoming message that tells you he received them quickly. Wooyoung leans in, nosily looking at the files his friend is opening.

“Looks good… if you ignore the formatting,” Yeosang shades, making you chuckle, and Wooyoung lets you hear a loud “Hey!”

“You didn’t do yours any better!” he teases Yeosang, attempting to pinch his side but his friend evades the attack. 

“Personal space,” he just remarks, pushing Wooyoung away with his flat palm against his cheek. Once again you find yourself fascinated by their cartoonish behaviour most of all, but you don’t comment on what just unfolded in front of your eyes. “And also, mine doesn’t look very interesting, but at least it has the correct formatting.”

“Yeah, this professor doesn’t really have an eye for aesthetics,” you add, grinning yet unhappy about the way the paper you were supposed to put together looks overly sterile. “But I guess that’s what science wants.”

“Well, the contents are what matters,” Yeosang adds, this time not defending himself when Wooyoung throws an arm around his shoulders, but you can tell he’s not happy about the pda. With curious eyes he leans in, skimming through the text on Yeosang’s screen, and you give him an annoyed sigh. You really just want to finish this damn project already, before it consumes any more of your nerves. 

“Oh. Sorry,” Wooyoung grins as he notices your distress, moving away from the computer as he straightens his back, and you’re not sure what to make of his reaction. Telling yourself to focus on the problem at hand instead of him, you begin pasting the text into one collective document, while Yeosang starts reading through everything in search of any possible errors.

“Looks good,” he eventually announces, and you agree, having joined him in proofreading everything. 

“You two sure are fast,” Wooyoung comments, and he shoots you a gaze filled with mischief.

“This is the tenth time we read through these, so…” you explain.

“I see… Yeosang here told me about how horrible the others were to work with,” the guy sitting next to your classmate continues.

“You’re also horrible to work with, and you’re not even a part of this,” Yeosang mutters under his breath, causing you to chuckle, and Wooyoung immediately complains.

“That hurt! I know when to be serious, in contrast to some people.” He says it so ominously that you think at least Yeosang must know who he’s talking about, but he too shoots him a questioning look. “Whatever,” Wooyoung brushes it off with a hand gesture. “You’re done now, aren’t you? So we can finally get to know each other,” he adds, directed at you. “This guy told me a lot about you, so I’ve been dying to meet you.” He points at Yeosang, whose ears grow bright red and he waves his hands in front of his face.

“It’s not what it sounds like. I don’t talk about you all the time, this guy here just likes to blow things way out of proportion,” he explains, and with the way Wooyoung is grinning from ear to ear now, all you’re left with is to believe Yeosang’s words.

“Figured,” you say. “So? What did he tell you about me that made you so interested?” You give Wooyoung a challenging smile, and the guy is eating up your attention as he watches you with a spark in his eyes.

“How you took the lead in your project after everyone else did nothing, for example,” Wooyoung replies. “I respect people like that! You know, people who get things done.” You chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Don’t be mistaken, I’m not usually the leader type. Just… when I need to be… for the sake of my own sanity.”

“I see,” Wooyoung says, leaning back in his chair now, taking on a comfortable stance.

“I’m sorry about him, I shouldn’t have brought him along,” Yeosang says, once again. “He flirts with everything that breathes in his direction, it means nothing. He’s just doing this for his own entertainment, but I can punch him for you if you want?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s fun to do this every once in a while.”

“Oh? What do you mean - every once in a while?” Wooyoung pries, a broad grin now playing his lips as he leans back in his chair. “You’re not the type to go out and meet people like this?”

“Not to flirt with them,” you laugh, directing your gaze towards the entrance of the café, where the image of Jongho walking inside has caught your eye. You decided to have him pick you up after your meeting with Yeosang, so that you could grab dinner together. You didn’t expect him to be here this early, though. “I’m not sure if my boyfriend would like that,” you add, looking back at Wooyoung, whose mouth forms the shape of an o, before he once again merely grins at you.

“I see, I see… but the fact that you flirted back at me tells me you like to live dangerously,” he remarks, before letting out a giggle that seems both very sudden, yet not out of character at all. Yeosang can only sigh beside him. He looks like he wants to snark at his friend for that, but he bites back the words, as your attention is visibly drawn elsewhere and you scoot over on the bench to make space for your boyfriend.

“Hello,” he greets the other two, politely bowing his head in front of them, before he sits beside you. And now you’re the one grinning to yourself, seeing his shyness that seems even weirder now, that you’re getting to know more and more very different sides to him.

“Wait… is that the boyfriend?” Wooyoung points his finger at the guy next to you, eyes raised in surprise.

“Yeah,” you answer.

“You’ve been talking about me?” Jongho asks, raising his eyebrows as well. There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice, and for a second you wonder if you should use this opportunity to tease him a bit. But of course Wooyoung, the loud one, is faster.

“She’s been talking about you.”

“Don’t believe a word he says,” Yeosang utters, before you can defend yourself. “He just says whatever.” Another highly offended Wooyoung-noise is what follows, while you feel Jongho tapping your arm lightly, and when you glance over to him you can see him quietly laughing. Apparently he finds their dynamic just as amusing as you do. 

“Yeah, so… that’s Yeosang, who I’ve been working on the project with. And that’s his friend Wooyoung, who has nothing to do with the project but came along anyway to be a distraction,” you introduce the two guys, then you point at your partner. “That’s my boyfriend Jongho.”

“You think I’m distracting?” Wooyoung retorts, because that appears to be all he heard, and he says it proudly and with this shit-eating grin on his face as he puts his elbow on the table, supporting his head with his chin in his palm. You can’t lie, his bold attempt to continue flirting with you in front of your boyfriend both makes you think he must be incredibly stupid, and somehow also makes you admire his courage.

“Not in the way you think,” you answer calmly, trying to sound almost cold. Next to Wooyoung, Yeosang is muttering an “oh my god”, but most importantly your boyfriend doesn’t react to it. Instead he diverts the conversation into a different direction, and in your head you thank him for it.

“So… were you able to finish everything?” he asks, and you nod.

“Almost,” you say. “The formatting needs to be checked again, but that’s Yeosang’s job. So… if you want to go get dinner now, we can!”

“Ah, no, I wasn’t trying to rush you,” he assures as he balances somewhere between seeming friendly and polite. 

You end up leaving pretty soon anyway. Yeosang informed you that he still had things to do (you assume he just wanted an excuse to get rid of Wooyoung) and so you packed your things and split up into pairs in front of the café, with your friend and his friend taking the route to the bus stop across the street, and you and Jongho walking a couple of blocks to get to a restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. It’s serving stew as its speciality, just right for a chilly evening like today.

A groan of satisfaction escapes you as you link your hands above your head and stretch your arms and back after entering the apartment. Your boyfriend smiles at the sight in front of him as he puts his jacket on a hanger and then he follows you into the living room.

“Getting dinner there was a really good idea,” you remark as Jongho comes up to you from behind, placing his hands onto your hips and leaning in.

“Right? You should let me pick restaurants more often,” he mutters right beside your ear, and when you whirl around to get a proper look at his face, he laughs softly.

“I think it was my idea to go there?” you retort, taking offense in him attempting to take all the credit, but he’s quick to appease you.

“I know, I know, just joking.” You huff at his attitude with a smile, before he adds, “I thought you liked mischievous guys.” He walks away and towards the kitchen as you’re still confused about his words, but when you begin to have a hunch about what made him say this, he’s already out of sight. You follow him, finding him pouring himself a glass of water, and without a change in expression he takes a few sips. You can only stare at him, hoping for him to say anything to help you figure out whether that hunch is right or wrong, but he doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry. Setting down the glass, he seems to be thinking about something as he’s supporting his weight with his hands on top of the kitchen counter, and then, when he finally shoots you a glance, the expression on his face has changed.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Liked what…?” Jongho pushes himself off the counter in front of him, taking a few steps towards you instead. He comes to a halt when you’re merely a few inches apart, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, and his hand finds your face.

“That guy flirting with you,” he says, his voice dangerously low, and he lets his thumb trace the outline of your bottom lip. “You liked that.”

“I…” You gulp as you look up at him. So he did realize it. You should’ve known better than to assume you could hope he wouldn’t be able to read you that well. But you were mistaken. It seems he already learned to notice and correctly analyze even the smallest of signs, and you guess in some way that’s a good thing, you’re just not sure what this means in a situation like this.

“It’s fine, dear,” he speaks, his voice merely a whisper now, and he leans in to press one feathery light kiss onto your lips. “You can admit it.” Again, you find yourself gulping. But the sweetness of his kiss mixing in with the soothing effect his words have on you leave you unable to ponder on this for longer. And so you simply say it, without thinking about the consequences.

“I liked it.”

It was only yesterday that you had another conversation, figuring you should talk more in depth about your wants and what you don’t want, after he almost crossed a line last time. You talked about your relationship, your sexual relationship mostly, the kind of dynamic that’s slowly growing between the two of you, and the kind of dynamic you two wish for. Surprisingly, from what you’ve discussed at least, your wishes align mostly.

You both agreed you want more. More than a kink or two incorporated into your sex life. More than a barely noticeable difference in power. He made it clear he’s willing to go into this with you, take you by the hand, and that he’d make sure to satisfy you.

But you know he also wants to be satisfied himself. And it’s exciting you, thinking about it then, and thinking about it now, as he’s steering you towards the nearest wall, until your back gently comes in contact with it. It’s not much, no grand gesture, and yet you can already feel the flames of desire burning up in your stomach.

“I see.” He speaks slowly now, the tone in his voice sending a shiver down your spine and you know he can see you tremble. From excitement for what’s to come, and curiousity about what he plans to do with you now. “What?” He raises an eyebrow, one hand resting against the wall right next to your head, the other reaching out until his fingertips come in contact with your stomach, and he lets them dance up until he’s almost reached your throat. When he sees you gulp at his action, he huffs, as if laughing at you. “You think I’ll give you what you want that easily?” Jongho asks, pulling his hand away and you inevitably frown at him for it. “After flirting with another guy? After you tell me you liked it? I don’t think so.” He takes a few steps away. There’s a calm expression on his face, his look feels almost icy as he lets his gaze wander from your head down your body. “You should know who can please you best,” he warns. “Or, don’t tell me you think that cheeky guy could make you feel better than me?”

“No!” you respond immediately and without having to think about it.

“But you still liked the attention,” your boyfriend states, matter-of-factly. 

“Y-yeah…” you admit, making yourself smaller instinctively.

“Cute,” he huffs at your apologetic gesture, and there’s a hint of a smirk sitting on his face. You weren’t 100% sure about it before, whether he really is jealous or if he’s doing this for fun, but now you can clearly tell - he’s enjoying this. And that’s fine, because you talked about this too - what you’re about to get yourself into, and how far you’re both willing to go in the process.

“Come here,” Jongho orders along with a gesture of his hand and you oblige. You step closer, let him put his arms around you, and the kiss he presses onto your lips is surprisingly soft. Slowly, he moves his lips against yours, tilting his head so he could deepen the kiss eventually, taking his time as he runs the tip of his tongue along the front row of your teeth, and just when you begin to want him to kiss you more passionately, he parts from you. One look at your face, his darkened eyes making you shiver in his hold, then he brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth. Trailing kisses across your cheek and eventually halting beside your ear as he cups your face with both hands now.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.” You don’t hesitate, and you don’t protest. It’s like his words put you in a trance, making sure you wouldn’t even think of disobeying him. And so you do, you drop down to the floor in front of him, hands immediately fumbling with the button on his pants, because you know what he wants. There’s only one thing a guy could want when he tells you to get on your knees for him, and you’re set on giving him that. But your eagerness doesn’t go uncommented. “So greedy,” he mutters, as he calmly watches you pull down his pants and underwear, exposing his half hardened length. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp and for a second as you glance up at him you think you can see his features soften. “You already know what to do, hm?” your boyfriend continues, yet you wait for the okay to touch him.

“Can I…?” you ask, making him let out a short laugh. And there it is again, that grin that would tell anyone that he knows he’s in control, and he’s enjoying it. 

“Are you gonna make me wait?” he poses a question in return, and in that same breath phrasing the answer himself. “I don’t think so.” 

You keep one hand resting on his thigh, while you wrap the other around his cock. Peering up at him to watch him as he watches you, you start moving your hand slowly, and the second your palm brushes against his head, you can see the way his lips part to make way for a quiet sigh. You bring your fist all the way back down his shaft, repeating the motion a few times, until you find a hint of impatience on his features.

“Dear…” he mutters, untangling his fingers from your hair to cup your chin instead. As he lifts it up, his thumb presses against your lips, and when you open your mouth to let out a shaky breath, he pushes the finger inside. Your eyelids fluttering shut, you meet him with the tip of your tongue, instinctually swirling it around his finger once, before you close your mouth around it and suck on it. “Like that…” Jongho breathes a praise in your direction, before pulling his thumb out of your mouth and putting his hand back on top of your head to steer your field of vision back towards his core. He stays quiet, but he wouldn’t have needed to say anything more anyway to get you to finally do what he wants you to. You move closer, extending your tongue for mere kitten licks, quick strokes that wouldn’t possibly be near satisfactory against the tip of his cock. You glance up at him again, seeing the impatience building up behind his gaze that won’t leave you, and for a moment you wonder whether you should try and see what happens if you push him a bit more. 

But your own hunger wins over that desire. He was probably right, you really are greedy today, because the second you wrap your lips around him, you find yourself moaning at the feeling of having him in your mouth. The hiss of pleasure he lets out forces you to suppress a grin. Instead, you take him in further, hollowing your cheeks as you let him fill you up with his size. 

His hips stay still. You wonder whether it would stay like this, whether he would make you do all the work and merely guide you into the pace he wants, as he is doing currently, with his fingers grasping onto strands of your hair, or if he would eventually lose patience and start fucking into your mouth. All you know is you’re fine with either, and yes, you’re eager to please him, eager to get him off. 

Your hand still wrapped around him moves along with your head for additional friction, and you keep peering up at his eyes, wanting to see the moment he breaks apart, and all the expressions leading up to it. And yet he stays in control, disappointingly much, so you take him in even further as you sink back down on him, until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag in response. You furrow your brows at the uncomfortable sensation, and yet you do it again with your next repetition of the movement. So long, until tears are starting to well up in your eyes, and that’s when he takes his hand away from your hair and cups your face instead, cursing at how good you’re being for him.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groans, and now you can see the pleasure distorting his face - it’s not much, but it serves as a motivation to work even harder for him. The sound he lets out as you swallow around him makes you moan as well, until you move your head and your hand faster, and the lewd sounds of you sucking him off, as well as your boyfriend’s heavy breaths fill the room. “Y/N, stop,” he mutters, and you don’t, because you want to push him over the edge so desperately. Instead you mewl at the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and you close your eyes, preparing yourself to take his load.

What you don’t prepare yourself for is him yanking your head away by your hair, the shock from the sudden action and the immediate wave of pleasure that follows as he growls,

“I said stop.”

“Yes, sir.”

A sudden weakness washes over you, and the only thing you can do is move your head up just a little bit, leaning into the touch of his hand on top of it. And you don’t miss the way the words affected him. After he had suggested you calling him that and you had refused, saying you found the thought of calling your boyfriend sir a bit weird, you know he didn’t expect you to say it after all. But you did. And now there’s an entirely new expression on his face, an entirely new burning passion reflecting in his eyes, and you know it’s only a matter of time until it burns you too.

“Get up,” he says eventually, and you do as told, finding yourself held up safely with his hands resting on your sides as soon as you stand. Your body feels light, almost like he’s taken control of your will, when he steers you back a few steps, into your original position against the wall. Without hesitation, he kisses you, teeth clashing together as he tears at your clothes, and he only parts from you to pull them off, piece by piece, one after the other, and when he has gathered half of them on a pile somewhere on the floor, he decides that should be enough. Your pants gone should do, and when his lips smash onto yours again, you feel his hand between your thighs, fingers prodding at your folds.

“Shit,” he hisses against your lips. “You’re fucking soaked… can’t wait to fuck you…” His words make your head spin, and the way his fingers slip inside you effortlessly only adds to your lightheadedness. You throw your arms around his frame, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt covering his back, and you buck your hips into his palm as he starts curling his fingers inside you. You can only mewl at the pleasure, sentences are too hard to form right now, maybe if you tried you could get out a few words with no correlation between them. 

“...p-please…” you slur, “...f-fuckme…” 

“Who do you belong to?” Jongho asks, his fingers working you at a speed that should give you time to answer, but that won’t keep you sane for long. And yet you can’t say anything, only pathetic whimpers come out when you open your mouth. “Who?” he repeats. “Is it me? Do you belong to me?”

“Y-yessir…” you manage to say, and he bites his bottom lip hard.

“That’s right.” You can hear his voice trembling as he speaks, and you let out another sorry excuse of a moan as he presses his thumb against your clit. “Gonna make you cum so good, pretty girl… just wait…” All you can do at this point is cling to him for dear life, incoherent whines and whimpers falling from your lips, in between words that are supposed to tell him you want to cum on his cock, but you’re not sure how much of that actually gets through to him. And still, when your walls are starting to clench around him and your whole body tenses up, he finally pulls out of you. With his hand soaked in your juices he gives himself another few strokes, before telling you to hold on tight and lifting you up with his hands placed on the underside of your thighs. You cry out as he pushes into you, tears welling up in your eyes again, and this time they fall. Rolling down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelms you, arms wrapped around him so tightly that you’re not sure if maybe you are squeezing a bit too tightly after all. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters in this moment is the chase for your high, and it ends with merely a few of his thrusts. Your body shakes violently as your orgasm hits you, you bite his shoulder and yet the moans won’t stop escaping you, and as you do, he too comes undone. You keep clenching around him as you feel him spilling inside you with a groan, and even as you start coming down from your high, your body won’t stop trembling. 

He tries to help you stand, but realizes quickly that all attempts are futile. So he carefully lets you sink down onto the ground, staying close to you in order to keep holding onto you. 

“How was that?”

“Good…” you manage to whisper an answer, not having the energy for a more elaborate one, but your boyfriend understands.

“I’m glad.” Jongho collapses with his back against the wall next to you, letting you rest your head on top of his shoulder and him leaning his head against yours. His hand finds yours naturally, fingers intertwining, as your mind is still drowned in bliss from the afterglow of your orgasm.

“It was perfect, actually,” you say, correcting yourself. “You were perfect.” You lift your other hand up to comb your fingers through his short hair, eventually letting it rest against his cheek and bringing him in for a short but sweet kiss. And then there it is again, that soft smile appearing on his lips, and when you lift your head he buries his face in the crook of your neck - to hide that expression from you, as you assume. 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually call me that, after saying you didn’t want to at first,” he says, and you retort, questioningly,

“Sir?”

“Yeah…” Jongho looks away, still visibly affected by it, and you shoot him a mischievous glance.

“I’m… really enjoying this though. And I’d like to keep… trying new stuff too…” you speak, and your boyfriend gives you a smile.

“We just tried a lot of new stuff, and you already want more?” He gets up, walking over to one of the cupboards and getting you a glass of water. “Drink this, first of all,” he says as he hands it to you. “And tomorrow we can sit down and talk again.”

#ateez smut #jongho smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez drabbles #ateez series #ateez x fem reader #ateez x you #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #jongho imagines #jongho x reader #smut

[bcneheaded]

ALSO IDK IF I SHARED ELDCN R/NG STUFF but that is my current obsession so i

her name is Cyg (Cygnatratus,,, bc i am ,,, a nerd,,,, and like to make things Mean Things [a play on how the dragons names work! her name is a mixture of words that means 'black swan' essentially jfjfjfhd]) she's a prisoner subclass (and all that comes w it yea) and a draconian <3 playing heavily in the dragon blood thing, wants to purify her blood or whatever jfsdfhsdjf idek!! if thats possible but she sure as hell wants to try (probably why she was imprisoned all those years ago,,, smthng to do with her seeking some kind of forbidden power) ANYWAY she's a little Havoc Wreaking gremlin who did NOT need the flame of ambition at all but now she has it and she's never been so terrifyingly Laser Focused on power FDGFDG anyway tldr, as a good friend of mine once said..... We support women's rights and women's wrong here... she just happens to have a lot of Wrongs

#( ooc ) #( tbd ) #my brain is FRIED . yes still #from these past few weeks but waves a hand a lil #i could describe her better (but alas I am well aware No One Asked and i dont have the brain power HFDSGYHFJD) #tldr to that tldr: draconian lady want be like dragon <3 but not like just by consuming dragon hearts (tho she will) #also probably will snag the throne OR do the frenzied flame thing ngl #also that hug......... she has probably NEVER been hugged or cant remember any hugs ever so like #inhales deeply... exhales heavily #she really needed it and did Not Know #bless u fia... sorry for what i must do HYGHJF #The ONE and ONLY time Cyg has felt.... Subdued. #amazing. terrifying. she both liked it and hopes it never happens again #while simultaneously hoping it happens again fjfjsjdf #also feel the need to say-- do i love this game? yes. am i good at it #NOT AT ALL gfdgDF #also x like 4.... yes..... that is a nasty burn scar on her face #what is it from? probably fire or lightning LOL.... #is it from a dragon? potentially #is it from fighting? also probably #just in general #did it stop her? abso-fucking-lutely not

[bratphilia]

glass window (w. afton x reader)

request: "POOHKIE BEAR HEAR ME OUT!!!! dad's best friend!william. y'all just moved into the neigborhood, and you've been oh so busy with college/working that you hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to william (tho steve for the sake of keeping his identity yada yada) and so like, the moment you get the chance to? william aka steve cannot contain his thoughts abt you oml !! ur just so fucking pretty !! delicate !! those fucking skirts you wear, in the summers of utah (i think thats where the movie/fnaf location is canonically) he'd so.. hungry for you.. bonus points if theres a height/size difference omg JUST HEAR ME OUT POOHKIE!!!- i'll be going under as the 🧚‍♀️ anon!"

note: okay yeah i went a lil crazy with this one but i just loved this request sm. probably my favorite fic ive written so far.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m + f receiving), slight dubcon, doggy style, mating press, multiple orgasms, william having insane stamina at his age

you and your parents just moved to hurricane, utah, aka the most boring town you've ever been to. the second day in your new house, while you were at your criminology class, your neighbor, steve raglan came by to welcome your family to the neighborhood. they mentioned having a college aged daughter. he didn't think much about at the time. it was a passing comment after all.

a few weeks pass by and steve started to become a frequent visitor to your household. however, each of those times you have either been at school or at work. he had no idea who you are.

that is, until one day you come home in the evening after a class while steve is over having a glass of wine with your dad. you close the door behind you to see the door to the backyard open. curiously, you poke your head out and spot your dad with an unfamiliar face, and you stand shyly in the doorway expectantly.

"hey, sweetie," your dad says. "this is steve raglan. our next door neighbor i was telling you about."

you walk towards him when steve holds his hand out for you to shake. "nice to meet you, mr. raglan."

mr. raglan. his ears practically perk up at that. he drinks in your appearance. you're wearing a black, short tennis skirt that stops mid-thigh with a pretty white blouse.

"nice to meet you too," he says politely, trying his hardest not to come across as creepy.

your dad turns to you. "how was class?"

"it was okay. i do have a lot of homework to do, so i should probably go," you say, then turn to steve and wave as you go, "it was nice to meet you again."

his eyes never leave your bare legs as you walk away. and well, he wanted to fucking ruin you.

steve notices something interesting about you while mowing the lawn. there's a gate in the back of your house where he can see a glass door from the angle he's at in the front of his yard. a glass door that, he discovers, is the back entrance to your bedroom.

he decides to make good use of his porch.

at this point, he contemplates buying a pair of binoculars, but that felt like a little too much. for now, he had the view he needed to satisfy him. he even took a few photos that he saves for material to use in his personal time.

unbeknownst to you, steve is absolutely obsessed with you.

his heart skips a beat every time you take a walk in the neighborhood, when, coincidentally, he's sitting on the porch pretending to read a newspaper, and you wave at him and smile. he always returns your smile and waves back kindly.

one day, when you're walking past his house, he notices something gold falling to the ground. when you're out of sight, he goes to investigate, only to find a gold ring that could have only belonged to you. the perfect opportunity. steve waits about a week and keeps your ring with him on top of his nightstand.

sometimes, he notices you like to leave your door open on a particularly hot day. surely you couldn't be naïve to think no one would break in, right? you're just so pretty, who knows who could follow you home from the shadows.

on one particularly hot day, you leave your door open. almost invitingly. and steve watches as your mom's car passes by his house, going out, while he knows for a fact that your dad is working. it's his time to strike.

steve makes his way across the street and through the back gate. he looks through the window to find you reading a book while sitting on your bed. he taps on the glass to get your attention. your eyes snap from the book to the door to see him standing there.

"hi, uhm, can i help you, mr. raglan?" you say, getting up. you look shocked, clearly a little freaked out he came through the back of your house, he presumes.

steve smiles and walks in uninvited, making you back up a little as he steps closer. "hi stranger, i just wanted to return something of yours that you dropped a few days ago."

he turns up the ring in his hand and watches your eyes widen. "i've been looking all over for this! thank you so much."

steve watches as you take the ring from his palm and slip it back on your finger. "you know, i've been wondering something."

you look up at him. "what's that?"

he chuckles lightly and closes the door behind him. "i can't help but notice that you like to leave your door open, and i just wonder how you possibly think that's safe for you."

"i—i don't know what you mean," you say, confused. you fidget with ring on your finger nervously, not liking the direction this conversation is going in.

"well, you know just about anyone could come in here and take advantage of you. you wouldn't want that, hmm?" he asks, stepping towards you and cupping your jaw. "or maybe you would. is that why you do it?"

you inhale. "mr. raglan, i don't think this is appropriate—"

"neither is the way you've been teasing me, little girl," steve retorts and you flash him a scandalized look. "oh, come on, don't think i don't notice. your short skirts showing off that even tinier figure and the way you always seem so eager to get my attention. i know the game you're playing."

he cups your jaw as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip for entrance. you grant him access and he slips his tongue into your mouth. it's a slow, sensual kiss. you're moaning into his mouth as he takes full control. 

steve's hands travel from your face, to your waist, and to your ass to squeeze. you whimper into his mouth and he laughs lowly against you. 

slowly he breaks away from you. "take off your clothes and get on the bed on all fours. now." 

you make a show of taking off your clothes for him. you keep eye contact with him as you unbutton your shirt and discard it mindlessly. then you reach around your back to unclasp your bra, baring your chest to him.

"beautiful," he comments. "take off your panties but keep the skirt on." 

you do what he says and get in the lewd position steve requested a moment ago, mind racing with what he would possibly do to you. you grip the sheets almost nervously and rub your thighs together to relieve the tension in your core. 

steve practically saunters over to you and gives a low whistle. "such a pretty pussy." 

you blush realizing your skirt rode up to your waist. you shiver when he places a cold hand on your ass, kneeding it roughly. 

"ooh," you moan, arching your back needily, making him laugh.

"need it that bad, huh, baby?" 

"yes," you say quietly, turning head around to look at him. 

"don't worry, honey, i'll take good care of you," he says with a twisted smile. 

he leans forward to press a kiss on your slit, moaning at the wetness that drips onto his lips. he wastes absolutely no time eating you out and laps at your pussy like a starving man. you can't bear to look at him anymore, the obscene noises of him slurping causing your face to burn with embarrassment.

you can't help but push back against his face much to his delight. you can feel his beard scratching against you, as delicious as you imagined. the friction of him smothering his face into you is making you whimper and moan helplessly. you wish you could grasp onto him or close your thighs, but this position and being completely at his disposal makes it all the more hotter.

he smacks kisses on your clit, sucking and rolling the sensitive nub around with his tongue. one particular harsh suck where he tugs on your clit ever so gently with his teeth has you coming on his face. he keeps going until you're squirming and begging him to stop.

he pulls away from you almost remorsefully. "thanks for the meal, babe," he says, wiping his mouth. something that would have otherwise made you cringe in disgust if it didn't come from him.

"ready for my cock, sweet girl?" he asks.

you can only murmur out a "mhm" as you were already too fucked out to verbalize anything.

he just laughs at your disposition. "don't get too tired on me yet, sweetheart, i still have so much planned for you."

the clinking of metal gets you excited all over again. he pushes into you with a groan. "fuckin' tight like a vice," he curses.

he thrusts into you experimentally, gaging your reaction for which angle makes you moan the loudest. when he finds the right one, he picks up the tempo instantly. your room is filled with the noises of his balls smacking against your ass, his grunts and your incessant moaning. he wraps a hand in your hair and the other rests on your hip for leverage.

"you like that, baby? like the feeling of me inside you?" steve asks you teasingly but you can barely respond. "fuck, you feel so good around me. my good girl."

"please, let me come," you whine desperately, bucking your hips backwards so it meets his thrusts.

"i will, honey, i will."

suddenly he flips you over so you're on your back and bends your legs in half. the manhandling is an added bonus. "i want you to look at me when you come, okay?"

"okay..." you mumble, letting him use your pussy for whatever he pleases at this point.

one specifically hard and calculated thrust has you reeling. your orgasm is definitely in sight. you can feel your stomach begin to coil, ready to snap.

"mr. raglan!" you draw out the syllables of his name, signifying you're close.

"ngh — keep calling me that, honey, it's so fuckin' hot."

you can feel him close as well as his grunts and groans grow louder and his thrusts get more erratic and shallow. he decides to drill into you even harder for the sake of your own orgasm, making you almost scream out his name as you squeeze your eyes shut and come.

he pulls out before he finishes and beckons you over to him. "suck me dry, baby. want you to taste yourself on me when i come."

tiredly, you sit up and take is cock into your mouth. since he's already close he takes the initiative to thrust into your mouth while you gag around him. the noises you're making only add to his arousal.

he's grunting incoherent dirty praises, about how good and tight your mouth feels, and how you're such a good girl for him. he comes with one final, drawn out groan as he throws his head back. spurts of his ejaculate shoot down your throat and you try your best to swallow what he gives you, but some dribble down your chin.

you pull your mouth off of him and he brings his lips to your for another kiss, licking the remnants of his orgasm from your lips and chin. when you pull away breathlessly he's grinning from ear to ear.

"so good f'me," he compliments sweetly, making you smile.

maybe hurricane isn't so bad after all.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #steve raglan #william afton #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf movie #matthew lillard #matthew lillard x reader #william laughs evilly during sex. its canon #🧚‍♀️

[attapullman]

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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[saiidahyunie]

you get me

kim dahyun x f!reader || fluff

synopsis: dahyun was just looking forward to another normal day at school, only to be called over by you waiting for her at the street in front of her house.

warnings: highschool au! ; cursing ; mentions of food ; reader has a bad rep ; dahyun is top of the class student ; steamy makeout sesh ; unrequited dahmo ; some of degree of 2wice pairings ; some suggestive content (dahyun getting a lil horny) brainrotting fluff that's so sweet it will have you in intensive care ; not proofread ; anything else i left out

a/n: bowl :)

“dahyun!” 

she recognizes your voice immediately, though it’s muffled by the low whirr of your bmw roadster. she stops in place, and as she turns, you pull up next to her, your arm resting alongside the driver’s side door. her eyes meet yours, and dahyun’s heart pumps harder in her chest. 

“y/n. hey.” dahyun’s voice sounds breathless through her own ears. 

your hair is in a messy knot, and you’re wearing some old, ripped band tee that dahyun doesn’t even recognize. with your eyes on her, dahyun’s pulling at the sleeves of her cardigan, looking down and feeling disheveled, suddenly self-conscious of the off-white bustier dress and white sneakers she put on this morning. 

“need a ride?” you ask and nick your head towards the vacant passenger seat. 

“sure.” dahyun responds. she darts across the front of your car, the dress fluttering across the bottoms of her thighs. once she gets in and buckles herself into the seat, you take off down the road, the car zipping along as it hits the suburban speed limit. 

“it’s been a while since i last saw you. a few weeks no? whatcha been up to?” you start, eyes flicking over to her and back to the rear view mirror. 

“oh, um….just…stuff with school, that’s all. it has been busy lately these past few weeks.” dahyun answers, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear and casts a sideways glance over to you, catching the angle of your jaw. she looks away when she feels the squeeze in her chest again and decides that it’s safer to focus on the contouring ridges of her hands and fingers. 

“right…you’re probably busy with AP classes, being captain of the tennis team, and the extracurriculars that you’re knee deep in,” you respond, half teasing, half exasperated, your mouth pulled into a grin. 

a blush spreads across dahyun’s cheeks because it’s true that she’s busy with all those things, and she feels a bit embarrassed over how uncool it sounds coming from your mouth, and she’s not sure how you even know any of that about her in the first place. 

the last time that dahyun ever spoke to you was short, and it was just you at the front door of her house delivering something from your mom to hers. all of the interactions were brief because dahyun finds herself too nervous or embarrassed to keep up a conversation with you after the summer between freshman and somphomre when you’d gone away for basketball camp and came back with a huge growth spurt, toned all over, and riddled with rumors that you scored big with an older girl. 

dahyun doesn’t want to blame the distance between you and her entirely on your good looks, though. even before that same summer, the friendship between you two had been growing apart. since the start of high school, she was pulled away from the daily meetings with you and chaeyoung because she wanted to fit in and spend more time with her other female friends. 

you, on the other hand, kept getting into all kinds of trouble that she would hear about from others, but you’d switch to a different topic to avoid speaking about it whenever dahyun asked. 

the hours spent together daily turned into interspersed weekend meetings and quick greetings, eventually to small waves passing classes. you were probably in and out of relationships with other girls more than actual conversations with dahyun over the past two years. 

“sorry,” dahyun apologies, glancing at you and then back at her hands, still unsure of what else to say. she’s uncoformtably aware of her every nerve ending right now, the way your leather seats are sticking to the backs of her knees, the sound of her exhalations, and the strands of hair that she can’t keep out of her face. 

the car turns a corner as you let out a light chuckle at the sudden apology. “i’m just teasing you dubu, don’t worry.” 

“oh. sorry.” she inwardly cringes at the way her voice squeaks. she’s trying to get more words out of the mouth, but her brain can’t come up with any, and she’s trying to remember what in the world you and her used to talk about all way when you were kids. 

“well, my life has been great too, thanks for asking.” your tone is sarcastic, though still smiling. “don’t apologize again.” you add in, right as dahyun’s mouth starts to form another ‘S’ sound. she presses her lips together and peaks over at you again to see you already looking back at her. 

your eyes meet hers for one quiet moment. then an easy laughter breaks through the awkward space, and dahyun’s shaking her head, feeling silly and ridiculous for being so weird. 

when the laughs die down, dahyun feels herself smiling. “you don’t need to remind me how boring my life is, okay? what’s been going on with you?” she ask, but she already knows. 

you’ve started seeing some pretty sophomore girl from the year below after breaking up with your previous girlfriend last month. you still play basketball in the park across from the cul de sac regularly at night or on the weekends, but you hang out with jeongyeon and her little posse nearly every day after school. 

quite the troublemaker you were taking up vaping for the past few months, and when dahyun goes to the restroom during fourth period, she sees you standing behind the portables near the fences where the security guards doesn’t check, a small pod is in your mouth with same group of girls when she knows that you have a history class and not socializing time. 

“it’s been the same for me, nothing too significant to note really.” you reply, coming to a stop at an intersection, and you’re nearly there to the parking lot. dahyun hums in agreement as she watches the other students from their school cross the street. 

“i know that it’s prom season so uh…are you going this year?” you ask, eyes trained on the road as the light in front of them turns green. dahyun lets out a light giggle through her nose. 

“y/n, that’s two months away. and no one’s gonna ask me anyway, so i don’t really have a valid reason to go. weren’t you gonna ask…sullyoon?” dahyun wonders out lod, remembering the name of the sophomore girl. 

your head snaps over to her and your expression is rather surprising, “why do you think i’d ask sullyoon?” 

“um…” dahyun bites the inner portion of her lip, wondering if she accidentally exposed too much what she’s noticed and heard about you. your love life was a regular let alone a hot topic of gossip in all social circles throughout the school, but she’s never heard anything about it directly from you. “aren’t you guys, like, dating now?” 

“that’s what people are saying?” your brows scrunch together. you’re pulling into the parking lot, but it’s still about ten minutes before the first bell rings. “i’m not dating sullyoon. like, not at all. i’m not dating anyone right now, actually.” 

“i didn’t mean to assume. i just heard…” 

“she confessed to me last week, and i turned her down.” 

“oh.” 

dahyun feels an uneasy feeling in her stomach, the slurry of guilt and cringe at the words she just spoke. another apology starts bubbling up out of her throat again when you say–

“people are stupid sometimes, but not you. i mean. don’t listen to what they say.” you sigh while shifting the gear into park, and dahyun nods, gathering her bag into her lap and reaching for the door handle. 

“thanks for the ride, y/n,” she replies softly. the door swings open, and just as she’s about to step out of the car, she hears you again.

“wait! dahyun…we should hang out more. i mean like, if you want of course. it’s been a while and i don’t want to sound off as weird, but yeah that’s all.” your hands are on the steering wheel, and your face is rather…open and inviting. 

“sure! yeah, okay. i’d like that actually.” dahyun smiles, nodding at you. “i’ll see you around then?” 

“i’ll text you!” you yell out after when she steps out and closes the car door. 

it’s fourth period, and you text her. it comes off as a surprise, and dahyun half thought you were joking when you suggested hanging out with her again. you were just asking if she was free today, and she is, but she takes ten minutes just to breath before replying to you. 

why would you suddenly want to hang out now? what are they going to do? what’s there to talk about? should they invite chaeyoung? tzuyu? suzy?!

in the background of her thoughts, she can hear ms. jihyo’s spirited lecture in biology, but even the teacher’s enthusiasm can’t pull her out of her own head right now. 

you hadn’t mentioned chaeyoung this morning, and now when she thinks about it, she can’t remember the last time the three of them hung out together despite the fact that she sees chaeyoung in class everyday, so she replies. 

dahyun: 

okay, should we invite chaeyoung? 

your response buzzes her phone instantly after her message. 

y/n: 

nah, she’s probably busy with mina 

confusion is struck through her. mina…myoui? the new transfer student from misamo academy? what could chaeyoung possibly be doing with her? dahyun shakes her head free of the disjointed idea and decides to ask you about it later. she tilts her head down to look under the desk to type out another response. 

dahyun: 

so what do you wanna do later? 

y/n: 

meet me at my car after school. 

momo’s knee knocks into dahyun’s from under the table, and she looks up over to her, surprised. just as she looksup, ms. jihyo starts over to their side of the room. 

“miss kim, did you hear what i asked?” the teacher looks at her over the sea of heads sitting down. “can you define the three type of cell transportation for me?” 

“ah…” dahyun’s eyes go wide with the realization that she hadn’t been listening at all to today’s lecture. 

“simple diffusion, facilitated diffusion, and active transport, ms. jihyo,” momo responds in her place. 

ms. jihyo glances between momo and dahyun, both red in the face for different reasons. “very good, miss kim.” 

when the teacher continues on with the lecture, dahyun shoots a grateful look over to momo and mouths thank you, which she responds to by look away and rubbing the back of her neck. 

at the end of the school day, dahyun stands next to the well waxed coating of your passenger door with her school binder wrapped tightly to her chest for no good reason other than to have something to do with her hands. her last class is near the exit, so she watches students spill from the main and side doors of the building. 

it’s just you, she repeats to herself. the same you she used to hold hands with on their walk to school in the first grade. the same you she used to stick band-aids on after you came back from crapped and bloody. the same you who played dress-up barbie with her before she had any other friends. the same you who’s lived down the street from her for over a decade. 

but finally, when she sees you push past the exit doors, backpack hung over one shoulder and tangled up in a group of people who seem much cooler and more popular than she is, she gulps down the memories of who you were before. 

she sees you notice her, and gives a simple wave of the hand, gripping your backpack before turning back to say goodbye to your friends. dahyun holds her binder tighter to her chest as she watches you. nothing about the girl 20 feet in front of her feels familiar, from your messy bun to the somewhat built frame that has everyone batting eyes at you in your direction. 

dahyun’s a little bit in her head staring at you for a little longer than she initially expected, but she couldn’t help herself about it so she keeps staring. 

you extract yourself from the group with fist bumps and handshakes. your smile is bright as you walk up to dahyun, pulling her into a full-bodied hug that she can only half reciprocate with the binder in her arms. the press of your torso was enough to intoxicate her, the warmth seeping through her skin. her face was also right at the crook of your neck, and you smell like the ocean and coconuts. 

when you pull away, dahyun notices you glance over your shoulder where the crowd of people are, but your shoulder also obscures her view of what exactly you’re looking at.

“ready to go?” you ask, stepping forward to open the door into the passenger seat. 

“yep.” she nods and gets in.

you pull up at an ice cream shop about five minutes later, and dahyun can’t control the grin that breaks across her face. 

‘suga’s’ ice cream parlor? when was the last time we came here together? she says, reminiscing over the white and pistachio colored swirls and blue snowflakes that were pasted on the storefront window. 

the store was down a couple blocks from where they live, and it hasn’t changed at all in the years since your moms used to walk them down there together on a hot summer afternoon. 

you smile back at dahyun, the canines of your teeth catching on your lower lip, “like i said, we haven’t seen each other in a while.” 

the both of you make your way into the store and stand in front of the glass screen with all of the specialty ice cream flavors laid out in freezer tubs before them. 

“are you gonna try anything new? i already know what i’m getting.” you say, glancing down at her. standing side-by side with you reminds of how tall you were now. dahyun remembers when your head would barely reach the bottom of the glass, and you would have to tip-toe in order to gaze at the rainbow of ice cream flavors. 

“i think i’m just gonna get my usual,” dahyun replies as the worker in a blue apron walks over to them. 

“what can i get started for you guys?” the girl behind the counter asks. 

“i’ll have a double scoop of chocolate on a waffle cone, and she’ll get a single scoop of raspberry please and thank you.” you shoot the worker a smile as she nods while getting the orders ready, 

you pay for dahyun’s ice cream as well, deciding to sit at one of the tables outside to enjoy the warm, spring air. already licking your way down the dessert, you start biting the cone with your teeth, the chocolate dripping over your hands and bits of the solid parts still smeared a bit on your mouth.

dahyun giggles on to the spoon pressed to her tongue and grabs a napkin from the stack on the table and hands it to you. 

“how the heck do you still eat ice cream the same way at 7 and 17?” she asks, smiling, and you grab the napkin from her, crumpling it up in your fist. 

“it’s better if you eat it my way,” you respond, taking a couple more bites into your waffle cone. you eye the trash can next to you two, tossing the napkin while eating seamlessly. to be fair, you were the basketball team’s best shooter. 

you and dahyun sit there at the table, not speaking but eating quietly, letting the sun hit the concrete pathway into dark a bright tone. when finished with the ice cream, dahyun throws her trash in the can next to you away. when she came back to sit down across from you on the table, you had your arms folded across your chest with your face appearing pensive. 

“so dahyun, i’ve been meaning to ask,” you start of saying, tilting your head off to the side while dahyun looks at you with wide eyes, wondering what you were going to ask of her as she hums with a tug at the corner of her lip. 

“why aren’t we friends anymore?” you keep starting ahead as you say this. the question startles her as much as the stoic tone does, and then there’s the pang that shoots throughout dahyun’s body at the implication that you don’t categorize her as your friend. 

“what do you mean? of course we’re still friends, y/n.” she responds, though she’s unsure of the status either. 

“we’re not friends like we used to be.” 

dahyun takes a breath and tries to decide what you were expecting her to say. it’s true that you and her aren’t friends like before, but isn’t it obvious as to why you’re not? it’s different now. you’ve grown from being kids. there’s no time to run around on wacky adventures or watch tv in your living room together like they used to.

“we just…don’t hang out as much. that’s all.” dahyun shrugs and tries to put on her most convincing smile to reassure you, but the turn of your gaze cuts right through her act. 

“i wanna hang out with you more.” you state, the tone coming as gentle, but it feels more of a command. dahyun thinks if you did want to start running around doing crazy shit or just stay inside all day then she would do that, too, because you wanted it. 

“okay.” 

the next few weeks pass by and those hangouts happen more and more often. at first, dahyun is unsure of how they’ll do it, if you wanted to get ice cream and stare at an empty parking lot with passing traffic for an hour then it’ll definitely make her feel awkward about it, every time. 

but it wasn’t like that. you tell dahyun that you’ll take her to school the next day and drop you off, and the day after that. with those rides, you and dahyun talk about anything; from classes, to the weather, even nothing. you send texts throughout the day to see what she’s up to or ask if she’s free after school. on most occasions, dahyun would have tennis practice or after school meetings, but on some of those days, you wait for her. 

in those off days that dahyun has from practice or meetings, you chill at the park together. dahyun reads some of her class notes and textbooks while you nap or look at the clouds in the sky rambling about how basketball practice was boring to some extent. either that or she would come over to your house and your mom would bake her favorite snickerdoodle cookies. dahyun would ask to watch scary movies together bcause despite how cute and sweet she seems on the outside, she’s actually a tough girl that apparently has no fear whatsoever. 

(you pretend to not be affected, but dahyun catches you gasping at the scares while she pretends to not notice.) 

throughout all of those days spent together, dahyun never mentions chaeyoung despite the little inkling of guilt she feels in her gut over excluding their old friend. she’s not sure why, but she knows that it would be different if chaeyoung was with them, and she becomes strangely possessive about the time she gets to be with you. 

you don’t actually see each other much during school because your schedule is different than dahyun’s, and there’s no circle of friends that overlap each other between the two of you, but in those moments between classes when they can catch a quick glimpse, you always give the same smile and trademark wave with a hand raised in the distance. 

it hadn’t been that long, but there were days where you tell dahyun that you’d be hanging out with your other friends instead, and she knows it shouldn’t gnaw at her insides so much knowing that you’ll be around that circle of friends that were clearly a bad influence on you. 

but it does, and on those days where you’re not with her, dahyun uses all of that mental energy to focus on her schoolwork she had written in her planner. once finished with everything she had planned in advance, she realizes that it was a mistake when there was nothing else to occupy her mind but you. 

dahyun’s passing through the hallway to one of her last classes when you told her that you won’t be waiting for her after she hears her name bounce off the lockers. 

“y/n’s been hanging out with that one girl lately.” 

at the mention of you, dahyun slows her steps to get a better ear on the two girls’ conversion. she doesn’t know them personally, but they were probably from jeongyeon’s group that you usually hang out at school. 

“da-ha? dahun? dun? or whatever her name is right?” 

“yea. the other day, elozin told me that she saw them ice cream together at her work, and she paid for her.” one of the girls snorts and waves her hand like she’s brushing off what her friend just said. 

“it’s whatever. i bet she’s just the rebound like how y/n is with everyone else.” 

dahyun’s face heats up at the idea of you playing her like the other rumors she’s heard of you before. it was a sinking feeling in her heart and stomach, and she pushes past them to rush down the hall. even in the distance, their hushed voices are still reverberating in her ears. 

“shit, that was her. you think she heard us?” 

dahyun’s backpack clunks on the floor, dropping into her seat. she can feel wetness swelling in her eyes, but she squints to keep the tears from falling. the chair next to her scrapes across the floor as tzuyu arrives at her seat, and dahyun turns away from her.” 

“eonnie! you would not believe the lunch i had today. my mom forgot that she put the bread in the fridge and it was stale. i could’ve sworn my teeth were cracking when i bit through my sandwich earlier.” 

dahyun hums a response, still turned away from her friend, pretending to shuffle through her backpack. when she blinks, a few drops land at the side of her feet, and she’s quick to wipe her eyes before straightening up in her eat. 

“there was something else i wanted to tell you, but i’m blanking out now…” tzuyu continues, scratching behind her ear. 

dahyun continues to avoid looking directly at tzuyu, knowing that she’d be instantly worried if she saw her crying. instead, she lets a few steadying breaths calm her while she focuses on writing her name over and over again. 

-dahyun

dahyun 

d a h y u n 

da-ha 

she scribbles over the stupid name on her notebook. da-ha? really?! she shakes her head at the unreal attempt to pronounce her name in her head. 

the late bell rings soon after, and all the other students find their seats, chatting amongst one another while the teacher is setting up to start class. dahyun looks up to see momo and chaeyoung sitting in the front row, and they turn back to give her and tzuyu a wave, which the pair returns. 

“hey, will you come to my track meet today after school?” tzuyu leans over and gives dahyun a pouty look. “momo and chaeyoung are coming to support me.” 

dahyun looks over and really smiles then, “of course i’ll go tzuyu. i wouldn't miss it.” 

tzuyu beams back at her, and the teacher starts calling for their attention. dahyun shakes her head, clearing her thoughts of anything that doesn’t have to do with mathematics or excitement for tzuyu’s track meet. 

at the end of class, tzuyu waves goodbye to dahyun and rushes to the locker rooms to get changed and ready. she the approaches momo and chaeyoung, still sitting in their seats and chatting animdately about how to answer the challenge question the teacher posted for their homework as extra credit.

“dahyun!” chaeyoung exclaims when she sees her. “what did you get for the problem today?” 

she giggles and looks over to momo, who’s probably red in the face the way she’s covering her face with  fingers in a V for her eyes to get a better view after arguing with chaeyoung about whose answer is correct. 

“chae, you know i don’t do the challenge problems,” dahyun replies, and she gives her a soft look when she pouts back at her. “you guys are going to the track meet today, right?” can we go together?” 

they agree to go with her, and she waits for them to pack up their stuff. they all walk out of the building and out toward the field. the sun is beating down on them today, and it’s a reminder that their few weeks of the enjoyable spring is about to transition into summer and that the middle of the semester is transitioning to the end of the year when all the big events in the school calendar are coming up. 

“dahyun, are you going to prom this year?” momo asks. now it’s just over a month away, the entire student population is buzzing with conversations and whisper about the dance as well as who’s going to ask who. 

“i don’t think anyone’s gonna ask me, so probably not,” dahyun responds nonchalantly. 

momo and chaeyoung exchange a look, and she wonders vaguely whether momo and chaeyoung will be going to prom this year or if they’re planning on asking anyone. despite that, her and momo have half their classes together and are involved in all the same extracurricular activities; she's never seen her look too interested in other girls.

maybe momo and chaeyoung could take each other to prom. that would be cute, dahyun thinks. 

“you never know, dahyun. maybe someone will surprise you,” chaeyoung says, smiling, uncharacteristically picking on her. she laughs in response, shaking her head. 

mostly, dahyun doesn’t feel too bad about the prospect of not going to prom. she imagines that she’d be the type of girl who sits at the table watching all her friends dance like in the movies. and then at the end, her friends pull her to the dance floor, and she has a fun time, regardless of not having a date. but she still has next year for that scene to play out, anyway. 

dahyun isn’t also sure whether sana or tzuyu will be going this yea, though she can’t imagine that sana would be lacking in promposals. tzuyu might go just to eat, drink, and dance, always wanting to have fun. without her permission, her mind conjures up an image of you, hair slicked back and in a pretty dress or suit depending on your taste, placing a pretty flower corsage on some ridiculously gorgeous girl who isn’t her. 

the trio comes up onto the bleachers and file into a row somewhere in the middle. dahyun sits in between momo and chaeyoung, listening passively as the two girls talk back and forth about which runners they think will win awards or set new record times for their school. the meet is pretty small and not glamorous, just between their school, tdoong high, and misamo academy. the campuses are a short drive apart, so students from either school are filing into the light crowd while the runners are doing their warmups on the track. 

after walking all the way to the field in the afternoon heat, she can feel the start of sweat pooling under her arms, so she pulls off her sweater to reveal her cami underneath and lays it down on her lap and over her skirt. 

“how do you think mina’s gonna hold up against her old friends, chaeyoung?” momo asks with a smirk.

immediately, chaeyoung’s face heats up, and she presses her lips together, eyes directed toward a raven haired figure in the distance. “she’s been training really hard, so i’m sure she’ll be fine.” 

dahyun’s head tilts. she remembers back a few weeks ago when you mentioned that chaeyoung would be too busy with mina to spend time with them, but she had forgotten to ask for more details. 

“is there something going on between you and mina, chaeyoung?” dahyun chimes in. 

“huh? me and mina?” chaeyoung’s face flames up into a bright red, and dahyun wonders how much of it is from the heat of the sun. 

at her other side, she hears momo snicker. “oh, it’s nothing, dahyun. chaeyoung just ‘tutors’ mina every tuesday and wednesday after school,” she says, wagging his brows and making air quotations around the word ‘tutor’ as she does so. 

chaeyoung groans and covers her face in her hands, mumbling at momo to be quiet and mind her own business. dahyun smiles at how cute her friend’s acting, even if she can’t imagine how sweet, girl-band grunge chaeyoung would be with someone as quiet and alluring as myoui mina.

“you guys know that nayeon is competing in a sprint too?” dahyun asks momo, hoping to spare chaeyoung any more embarrassment. momo nods excitedly, pointing her finger over to where nayeon and tzuyu are standing, jumping up and down looking like they’re giving each other pep talks.

across the field, a whistle is blown to get everyone’s attention as the first event is about to start. at the same time, dahyun’s phone dings in her lap, ahd her heart skips a beat, hopeful. 

y/n: 

i see you. 

dahyun’s head whips around, searching the crowd for you face. when she spots you across the bleachers, you’re waving at her. her entire body vibrates as she puts up a hand to wave back at you. she sees you type something on your phone with your other hand and hers dings again.

y/n:

come sit with me. 

dahyun’s sure that her face is as bright as chaeyoung’s a few minutes agaon when she reads your words and looks back at you. when she notices that you’re sitting in your usual group of friends, she sees the two girls from earlier back in the hallway with you too. she makes eye contact with you again and does an exaggerated motion of shaking her head.

dahyun: 

i’m scared of your friends

y/n: 

LOL 

she sees you get up, say a word to your group, and start in her direction. the girls look shocked as they watch you walking away. despite that the runners are lining up at the starting line now, most of the crowd’s eyes were on you, and dahyun can feel their gaze turn to her when they start to realize where you were headed. dahyun wants to shrink into herself and disappear. she wishes she had kept her sweater on because she has never felt more exposed than at this moment. 

“y/n! hey, are you sitting with us?” chaeyoung asks, her mouth widening into a smile as your figure forms before them.

“sup, yeah i am.” you and chaeyoung share a quick hug before she makes space between her and dahyun. her eyes go open as you sit down between them, and the bare skin of your arm grazes hers. 

then, your face goes blank as you lean over. 

“momo.”

“y/nnie.” 

for a moment, you and momo look hard at one another. dahyun doesn’t understand what they have against you and momo, but she thinks she might suffocate sitting in the middle. just in time, another whistle goes off, and she exhales when everyone turns to watch the relay race.

over the course of a few hours, as they watch the different events and cheer on their friends, dahyun learns first that you had come to support jeongyeon and her friend miyeon who also hangs around with you on the weekends after basketball practice. you didn’t realize that dahyun had friends in track and field, so you didn’t invite her because you didn’t want her to come just to be bored. 

so you ask dahyun about nayeon and tzuyu, and chaeyoung cuts in to tell you about their two wacky friends and all of their funny antics. momo, for the most part, is quiet for the entire time, except for when tzuyu and nayeon are racing, and she stands to cheer them on. 

all of the events today were so close, and dahyun didn’t realize that some teenagers run on a circle would be so nerve racking. in the end, tzuyu’s relay team comes in first. mina sets a new record in the school, and nayeon places third in her own event. jeongyeon and miyeon compete against one another in the 300 hurdles, and miyeon beats out jeongyeon by a slim margin, leaving the crowd hysterical. 

while everyone was filling off of the bleachers, your hand rests gently on the curve of dahyun’s lower back to keep her from drifting too far from you into the crowd. 

“do you wanna come say hi to my friends before we leave?” you ask from behind, as you’re making your way off the bleachers. your minty breath makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

“um…are you sure?” dahyun turns up to try and read the expression on your face, but you’re already waving at a group of your friends from below, farther off into the parking lot. 

“don’t be scared, they’re nice.” you reassure, distracted and unaware of the anxiety scratching inside her. your hand presses into her back just slightly, urging her forward. 

you two reach the bottom of the stairs, and before parting ways, momo grasps dahyun’s arm. she can almost feel the glare from behind her, even if she doesn’t see it directly. 

“i want to talk to you about something tomorrow, okay?” she speaks in a low tone into her ear. dahyun notices that momo’s cheeks were red, and she nods. they agree to meet in the courtyard before tennis practice tomorrow after shool. 

when dahyun steps back over to where you were waiting, your amrs were crossed over your chest, face still starkly dark. and your eyes were firing daggers at momo’s retreating form. 

“still wanna say goodbye to your friends?” dahyun asks, pulling your attention back to her. your expression softens, and you lead her to where your group is, all sitting or standing around the open trunk of someone’s car with music blasting from it. they’re all joking around and laughing as you and her approach them, but they quiet down when they see dahyun join the group behind you. 

“y/n, where the fuck have you been?” jeongyeon’s tone is casual, despite the agressive language. she’s leaning on the back of the car all sweaty and tired looking, you just flash a smirk at her. 

“congrats on the race by the way,” you say giving her a brotherly dap, “if it were me though, i would’ve won that.” 

“yeah, yeah, fuck off, asshole.” 

“i’m actually about to head out, but i wanted to introduce you guys to my friend, dahyun.” you step aside to reveal her from behind. “dubu, this is jeongyeon, if you haven’t figured already. jihyo, sana, casey, and doona.”

dahyun looks up at everyone’s faces as you name the off, giving a small smile and awkward wave of her hand to each of them. she recognizes jihyo and sana as the girls in the hallway earlier and feels herself shrinking when their eyes appraise the entirety of her. 

“it’s nice to finally meet you, dahyun.” casey says, shooting her a welcoming smile. even though he was the one of two guys in the group, he was pretty tall and well built. his face is all sharp angles, but eyes and tone of voice are warming. next to him, eunwoo, a boy with a two-block haircut and fair cream skin, flashes another smile with a nod of agreement. 

“yeah, now we know who’s been stealing good ol’ prime time over here after school,” jeongyeon adds in with quirk of her lip. dahyun knows she meant it as a joke, but her eyes were half serious. 

“heh, sorry about that. it’s nice to finally meet you guys,” dahyun responds, looking down, her voice soft and shy in her own ears. 

sana steps forward to her, twirling a strand of dahyun’s hair.

“dahyun, love that name. and your hair. so pretty.” sana’s voice is saccharine sweet, and she smiles with her eyes too, but it looks a lot more sinister despite the happy appearance. 

dahyun inadvertently takes a step back from her, wrapping her arms around herself. the other girl, jihyo, breaks into a giggle and tugs her friend back to ease the tension in the air. 

“be nice, sana. she looks terrified of you.” 

“what? i was being nice.” sana shrugs then turns back to dahyun. “you are so pretty.” 

dahyun’s face suddenly flushes, and she mumbles out a quiet thanks. she looks back and forth from sana to jihyo. each of the two girls have similar features but the height difference is what breaks the two. both brunettes with sana having straight hair while jihyo’s was a little wavy. both also have well structured faces along with fair skin and pouty lips, eyes striking but with so much softness behind them. 

when she doesn’t know what else to say, dahyun turns to you with a pleading look. 

“alright, we’ll be taking our leave now. i’ll see you guys later,” you say, nodding your head at the group. as they turn to walk away,  jeongyeon yells after them.

“dahyun! come to the party this saturday. my place.” 

you look back at jeongyeon and then back at dahyun.

“maybe!” you call back, pulling dahyun away from them. 

by the time you’re pulling out of the parking lot, it was getting late. the sun is nearly setting in the hroizion, and the world around you two is darkening into a blue tint. 

“that was really weird,” dahyun states, resting her head on the knuckles of her fist, elbow against the window. 

you blow a short laugh through the nose. “yeah, kind of. you don’t have to hang out with them again. i just thought it’d be weird if they didn’t know who you were.” 

she peeks over at you, eyes tracing over the angle of your jaw, the point of your nose, the way the loose strand of hair frames your achingly beautiful face. 

“why would it be weird if they didn’t know me?” dahyun asks, closing her eyes and singing to herself. 

“you know…’cause you’re my friend. and you said they scared you,” you reply with a title of your chin, keeping eyes trained on the road but what you’re saying is straightforward and obvious. 

“they still scare me.” 

“yeah, well, i tried. it’s not my fault you’re shy.” you tease and reach over to rattle her shoulder. dahyun opens her eyes then and lets out a giggle. whe you pull your hand away, she rethinks her choice of words. 

“i know i’m awkward. sorry.” she bites the inside of her cheek, feeling stupid at how anxious she is around people. 

“no need to apologize dubu, i find it cute that you’re like that.” you say, lips quirking up at the sides. you glance over her, and dahyun could put money on the fact that what you just said can make her face blow up with pink all over. luckily for you, it was working how dahyun’s cheeks were betraying her. 

the rest of the short drive back home, it’s a comfortable silence. when you pull into the driveway of her home, dahyun stalls getting out. it’s between eight to nice, and the only light left is the reflection of your headlights from her house’s garage door.

she nearly spent five hours with you today, and still, she doesn’t want to leave. she imagines getting out of the car into the cool air would sting as much as ripping off a bandaid and letting the wound bleed right through completely. 

dahyun looks at her skirt and plays with a loose thread at the end of the. she can feel your eyes on her, probably waiting for her to say something or leave, but she doesn’t think she can do one or the other for that matter.

“dahyun?” 

“hmm.?”

“you know we’re here, right?” 

dahyun looks up to the sky at an angle, hiding her tugged smile, “i know.” 

she looks down and up at you again, eyes meeting. no matter how many times she sees you, the intensity of your jewel toned irises send a shock down her spine. her gaze flickers down to your lips, and she wonders for a split second what they would feel like against hers. 

“dahyun.” 

her name is whispered with a plea as you lean forward, placing your hand on the back of her neck to pull their faces within mere inches of one another. she’s intoxicated by the blow of your cool breath on her lips. 

your eyes fall closed, and dahyun leans forward, kissing you. 

the feel of your mouth on dahyun’s is searing. your hand is at the back of her neck, hodling her firmly in place as your lips are moving against one another. this new feeling burns at dahyun’s insides until she’s left with a molten, aching center, yearning more and more of you. 

she presses her hands to your shoulders, pulling you closer. you’re nipping at her bottom lip with your teeth, lapping it over with your tongue to soothe the firm pressing, and dahyun can’t help but let out the whimper that escapes her mouth. her hands then slide down to your chest, crumpling up the fabric of your shirt—everything in her body is catching on fire of this wanting. 

the hint of anticipation licks at her skin, and she’s hoping that you’ll do something more, touching her, feeling her, to not stop at making her feel this way. instead, you pull away, and dahyun tries to fight down the whine from the loss of contact. your foreheads are resting against each other, and she’s drinking up the breath from your lips and into her face. you’re still holding the nape of her neck, and the other hand is clutching to hers, fist on chest, squeezing her hand ever so slightly. 

nothing happens for a minute, but in that little pocket of space where it’s just you two in the car, away from the world, the desire burning inside dahyun cools into a sudden rush of anxiety. she just kissed you. she just kissed you, and she liked it so much. 

did you like it? is this how you were in your other relationships? i don’t even think i’ve ever been kissed this way before…? 

dahyun then thinks back to what jihyo and sana said earlier today. “i bet she’s just the rebound like how y/n is with everyone else.” 

“dahyun…” you whisper again, before placing another chaste kiss on her lips and pulling away from her completely. she leans back into the cushion of your car seat and looks back down at the thread of her skirt that she was picking at before, feeling shy and embarrassed at her lack of experience. if a kiss could make her feel this way, then how would everything else she thought would happen really—

“hey, look at me.” 

she’s caught off guard by your words, and she’s unable to deny anything from her mind. “was that okay?” you ask, brows slightly crinkled with a worry, expression full of concern with what you two just did. 

dahyun nods slowly, then looks down again, now clutching her thigh. your hand freely swoops over to grab hers, and you pull it over back to you, clasping it with the other over your leg. “please, tell me what you’re thinking.” you say gently. 

“y/n…” dahyun hushes out, still trying to find the right words that can convey her emotions the best. “shy did you suddenly want to hang out with me again?” she asks, the doubt creeping through her face. 

“i–” you close your mouth before taking the lump in your throat downward. “i missed you. i just wanted us to be friends again.” 

“and that’s the only reason? you just wanted us to be friends?!” 

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, your eyes landing on dahyun’s face yet again, hers searching for any sigh of dishonesty and ambiguity. looking out the window into the coolness of the night, you let out a deep breath that rattles your teeth, lips finding the arches of her knuckles kissing them. “i wanted to be in your life again. i want to be whatever you want me to be.” 

dahyun looks at you, the uncertainty in her eyes while yours was carried with a vulnerability that she hasn’t seen from you in a very long time. her desire for more of you and the natural reflex of her to hide, to keep herself safe, a tumultuous war within her. 

you win, of course, because you’ve already let dahyun surrender herself to you at a point where it’s so badly needed. 

“do you want to come inside?” dahyun asks you, but really, she’s begging. a pause is in the air after she asks you, and the emotions are splayed across your face, but you settle on one and an answer behind it. 

“i don’t think i should,” you answer softly, breaking a smile, but it there was a tinge of pain under it—your hand still clasped with hers. 

“please.” she whispers, almost fooling herself that you didn’t hear the desperation in her voice. you look out the window away, scrunching your eyes closed before dipping your head down, pulling her hand close to you again for another kiss. 

“i really want to. i do, believe me.” you mumble, eyes trained on her as her small hand is nestled with your cheek. “i’ll see you tomorrow instead, okay?” 

your rejection stings, and dahyun looks away from you. she didn’t want to see your apologetic look that you’re giving her, the pouted face that she knows that you make whenever you two would argue over something. the immensity of her feelings for you hangs on her neck like it might strangle her, and it hurts to think that you don’t feel it too. regardless, she nods and pulls her hand away.

once you said goodbye to her at the door and a skincare regimen later, dahyun lies in bed staring at the blinking light of the smoke detector in near complete darkness. it was way past her bedtime, and she should be asleep by now, but every time she closes her eyes, she pictures your lips on her, your hand holding the back of her neck in place. she pictures your twinkling eyes, so bright and filled with a universe within those irises, running over the bare skin of her shoulders. 

there’s a weight pulling at the center of her, full of something that belongs to you. she rubs her thighs together, trying to soothe the sensation that would definitely keep her up at night. it doesn’t help her case however, she can’t stop imagining what it would be like if you had come in earlier, next to her on the bed, if you were on top of her right now. her hand slithers down the waistband of her shorts, sliding it away soon after of the hope that would come true to her. 

“y/n…” she whispers into the darkness, and drifts off soon after that. 

dahyun gives you the usual goodbye as the bell rang for the first class of the day. the ride to school was more casual than she expected it to be, neither of you bringing up the kiss from the day before. she was lacking too much sleep to really hold a conversation with you, and you didn’t say much either, other than saying that you’d be waiting for her to finish tennis practice. 

it’s passing period, and dahyun is opening the combination of her locker when a pair of dainty hands come up behind her to cover her eyes, obscuring her vision.

“guess who?!” a chirpy voice calls from behind. dahyun laughs and turns back to see chuu, hands up and framing his face as if to present herself. “it’s your other best friend that you never talk to!” she exclaims cheekily. 

 “hi bestie.” dahyun replies, rolling her eyes. she and chuu had nearly been inseparable freshman year when chuu was new to the school and town, having moved to the suburban sides from the city. chuu was the one who taught dahyun the wonders of mascara and lip gloss, and in return, dahyun introduced her to tzuyu. the three of them used to slather face masks on each other and giggle about nonsense in sleepovers friday nights. 

it wasn’t until recently when dahyun had seen much of chuu. they didn’t have classes together this semester, and her friend had branched out more socially in the past couple years than dahyun was ever interested in. it didn’t help that chuu was also busy, except with the student board, tennis, and a few other clubs around school. 

still though, it was still a point to acknowledge their closeness when they did see one another. 

chuu grabs dahyun’s shoulder, pressing the locker door to mask their conversation away from the bustling hallway. “i heard from half the school that you’re having a little fun with y/n.” she accuses, her whisper breath hot on dahyun’s ear. 

dahyun snaps up, gasping. “huh!?!” a few heads turn to look at them, suspicious eyes from all directions. chuu glares at the people surrounding them, then pulls at dahyun’s sleeve to lead her down the hall where there was a vacant corner. 

“so? is it true? how is she?” chuu demands in a hush, her bright brown eyes twinkling with a hopeful answer. 

“do you really believe what you’re hearing around here?” dahyun responds, shaking her head. 

“oh, yeah? then why did you get out of y/n’s car this morning like you haven’t slept a single wink?” 

“well–” dahyun flushes, her imaginings of you from last night flashing through her head. “i just couldn’t sleep, and y/n lives two houses down from me, so we’ve been…carpooling.” she explains, the defense was reasonable, but it sounds not really convincing to her own ears.

“right, right. and that’s why she ditched her friends to sit with you at tzuyu’s track meet.” chuu retorts, and dahyun’s mouth falls open.

“how do you even know that? you weren’t even at the track!” 

“word travels fast, dub. especially with miss rubber band around here.” chuu says, her face is entirely too serious. 

miss rubber band!? at dahyun’s sudden choked expression, chuu continues. “you know. because how she’s bouncing around relationships.” she adds, matter-of-factly. 

“what the actual…no, well–i’ve heard but i don’t believe that to be true at all, chuu.” 

“sure, and it looks like it’ll be your turn, sooner or later?” chuu suggests, smirking up at her friend. dahyun’s entire body might shut down at this moment. the idea that half the school thinks she’s next in line for a potential rebound was a little overwhelming for her.

the first bell rings, saving her from any more embarrassment. 

“i’ll come find you, we’re not done with this conversation.” chuu says, her index finger pointing at dahyun’s face as she turns to walk away. 

that entire day, dahyun’s head is spinning with words that people might be saying about you and her. was she being a ‘rebound' right now? did the kiss from last night even qualify as that? did someone see them yesterday? how closely have people been watching her interactions with you? if any of those are true to the case, what happens next? were you just gonna move onto the next girl to fall for you? does touching herself at the thought of you being on top of her also relevant to this issue? 

everywhere she turns in the halls, dahyun feels the pool of eyes on her, staring into her soul, listening to the words in her head. she imagines people murmuring her name at the sight of her just simply walking down. whenever someone would speak, she’s afraid she might hear her name from their mouths.

in an attempt to avoid any suspicion or speculation, she tries to sit in the back row for class today, focusing solely on taking notes. she hunches over with eyes downcast, hoping that if she doesn’t see anyone, then no one can see her. walking between classes, she avoids your pathing, not wanting anyone to see the intimacy of your waves at her. 

when it’s the last period of the day, dahyun’s mentally and emotionally exhausted. so when tzuyu walks in, panting, eyes wild, saying, 

“eonnie, i remembered what i was supposed to tell you yesterday.” 

she looks at her loving friend, sighing an exhausted breath. dahyun doesn’t think she has any remaining capacity for any more information. 

“can you tell me later? i’ve had enough of hearing today as it is.” 

“no. you need to know right now. like, i really, really need to tell you right now.” tzuyu implores, eyes flickering over to the door and then back to dahyun. 

“if this is about miss rubber band, then i already know.” dahyun replies, exasperated. she throws her head down on the dsk, laying against the crook of her elbow.

“miss who now?!” tzuyu throws a bewildered look but shakes the idea from her head, apparently having more important matters to discuss. “momo is going to ask you to prom. today.” 

dahyun perks up, the monolids now turned to double eyelids, and exclaims loudly, “what!?!?!?” 

for the second time today, her reaction elicited strange looks from the people around her.

“shhhhh!” tzuyu slaps her hand over dahyun’s mouth. “she’s gonna be here any second.” 

right on cue, momo and chaeyoung enter the room, looking like they’re engrossed in conversation. dahyun grabs tzyyu by the collar and pulls the girl against her face. 

“why would she do that?” she cries, quiet enough for only tzuyu to hear. her friend shoots her another look that says, really? 

“uh, maybe because she’s in love with you?” 

dahyun’s brows scrunch together, and she opens her mouth to respond, but before she can say anything, the late bell rings and everyone takes their seat. their trigonometry teacher starts the class and begins writing notes on the overhead. dahyun is about resign herself to focusing on the lession when tzuyu pokes her with the back of her pencil to get her attention. 

she looks up at her, and tzuyu is holding up her notebook with the words, what are you going to do?? scribbled onto the page. dahyun shakes her head and mouths, “i don’t know.” 

her eyes drift toward the front of the room to stare hard at the back of momo’s head, wondering what tzuyu meant when she said that she was in love with her. she probably feels bad that no one will ask her and doesn’t want her to feel excluded when the rest of their friends are at the dance. her heart squeezes a little in her chest. she’s the type of girl who’s kind enough to look out for her like that. 

but as always, her thoughts circle back to you. what would she think if she agreed to go to prom with momo? would you even care? she’s just the rebound like how y/n is with everyone else. dahyun frowns as the words echo in her mind again. you and her might have kissed yesterday, but that doesn’t mean you’re interested in her beyond anything physical. 

even then… if that was all you wanted from her, she thinks she would give you that much. 

her phone buzzes in her lap, and she looks at the screen to see your name pop up. 

y/n: 

are you mad at me? 

another buzz, just two seconds after. 

y/n: 

im sorry about yesterday

you probably regret that kiss. maybe you didn’t want to cross that line with dahyun after. you said that all you wanted was to be in her life again, and dahyun was the one who would get out of your car, who stared, starved, at your lips, who kissed you first. 

dahyun: 

what are you sorry about? 

another buzz.

y/n: 

can we talk after class? 

dahyun: 

i have to meet up with momo after class

y/n: 

see me first

it’ll be quick

dahyun: 

okay 

the rest of the class goes on learning how to graph trig functions and explaining conditional identities while dahyun’s brain works overtime trying to connect the dots and solve her own convoluted problems. she doesn’t understand how she got into this mess in the first place, and she can’t seem to figure a way out of it.

one hour later, and her brain talks itself in circles. is momo really going to ask her to the dance? what would she say if she does? does she want to go to prom with momo? does she want to go at all? what do you want to talk to her about today? do you even know what other people are saying? should she apologize to you? should she apologize to momo? 

the questions swirl in dahyun’s mind until eventually, the school day is nearly up and the teacher gives them the last few minutes to talk amongst themselves. she sees momo turn back with a smile and give her a shy wave, which she returns, despite the chaos inside her. 

momo stands, putting on her backpack, then starts over to them. tzuyu gives dahyun a look before turning and smiling back at momo too. 

“hey, tzu.” momo says, looking at dahyun. tzuyu greets her back, but the words fall on deaf ears. “we’re still meeting before tennis practice today, right?”

dahyun nods slowly, wondering whether meeting her is still a good idea when she doesn’t know if she would want to go with her to prom. “yeah, um, actually i have to do something before, but i’ll meet you there.” 

“cool.” 

she tries to smile, to hide her uncertainty, and momo smiles back, distracted. the final bell rings, and she waves at the two of them, mumbling, “see you in a bit, dahyun,” before walking out. she looks around the room in search of chaeyoung, but she seems to have left already, which is unlike her. 

dahyun and tzuyu leave the classroom together. she picks up her phone to text you asking where they should meet, but just as she enters the hallway, her nose bumps into a broad chest covered in a black t-shirt. dahyun jumps, startled, about to pull back and apologize to whoever she just ran into, but your hands come up to her sides and stabilizes her. 

when she loks up, your name falls out of her mouth in recognition. you smile down at her sweetly, and your lips form the shape of her bame. somehow, she feels both relief fill her chest and nervousness slosh around her ears at the sight of you. 

she turns to see tzuyu’s mouth gape open at the two of you. you wave a hello to her as dahyun waves a goodbye, and tzuyu continues on her way, probably deciding to interrogate dahyun on the juicy details later. 

you lead dahyun down through the crowd of people rushing to leave school, and just like every other time she’s been with you, she can feel the prying eyes leering over again. she doesn’t know if she could ever brush it off so easily, the way you seem to.

eventually, you arrive at a small, grassy plot at the back of the school where few people go, and dahyun lets out a breath when she finds there’s no one else there to eavesdrop on them. regardless, you and her stand behind a tree, using the trunk and sagging branches to shield yourselves just in case. 

she sees your frown and has to tamper down the urge to kiss at the wrinkles on your face, to soothe whatever was upsetting you. 

“i’m sorry for kissing you yesterday.” you start, looking away from her. it’s one of the few times dahyun has ever seen you blush.

“y/n, i—” 

“i really like you, dahyun. i like you so much. but i don’t want to force you into anything.” you interrupt her. dahyun’s eyes widen, and she can feel her own face heat up. she thinks she should say something, anything right now, but she doesn’t have the words. you grab hold of her hands and continue on.

“i asked to start hanging out with you again because i heard a while back that momo was planning on asking you to prom. and i realized how little i knew about what was going on in your life. and i…i couldn’t stand the idea of you going to prom with her.” you confess, looking down at your hands. the vulnerability in your face reminds her of the girl she’s known all her life. 

dahyun still can’t find the words, so instead, she tiptoes, reaching up to hold your face and presses her lips against yours. you let out a surprised noise before sinking into her, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her closer to you. this time, the kiss feels more like a sigh, like relief. this time, dahyun has to be the one to pull back and look at you, her hands still holding your face. 

“do you really mean that? you really like me? you just don’t wanna…” dahyun hides herself in the crook of your neck, “...use me as a rebound?” she mumbles the lsat bit under her breath, feeling embarssed for asking at all. 

“i don’t just want to what?” you gape, seemingly offended by the words she used. “did you say use you as a rebound? where the fuck did you hear that, dahyun?” you pull back from her to look at her face, gripping her arms. anger flashes through your eyes.

dahyun’s eyes widen, lower lip quivering. jihyo and sana’s faces flash through her mind, but she swallows the memory. 

“chuu told me that people have been saying we’re getting toegher and…” dahyun whispers into your chest, unable to look at you. 

“ugh, fuck.” you groan out, wrapping your arms around her again, pulling her into you. “i don’t know what people’s obsession with walking about me is, but they’re really fucking stupid.” 

dahyun watches your jaw clench and unclench, like you’re trying to contain yourself. guilt squeezes in your gut. she presses a kiss to your shoulder, wanting to calm you. 

“i’m sorry. i know you already told me not to listen to the rumors, but i…” she trails off, unable to describe the insecurity that rattles through her. 

“no, i'm sorry. people can say whatever the fuck they want about me, but have nothing to do with it. i’m sorry for dragging you into this.” you sigh again and rest your chin on the top of her head, inhaling her scent like she’s an infant. 

“dahyun, do you like me?” you whisper, still holding her to you. “because i like you so much.” 

her heart is rattling in her chest, and she knows her feelings for you are more than she can say. but she responds to you how she thinks she should.

“i like you, y/n.” the words muffled in your chest. she hugs your abdomen tighter, scared and embarrassed. so you stand there, holding each other, and for a moment, the anxious voices in dahyun’s head quiet. in your arms, she’s safe. 

then, her phone chimes, and she remembers where she’s supposed to be. 

“oh god. it’s almost 3. i think momo is going to ask me to prom right now.” she says, covering her mouth with her hand, unsure of what to do.

“don’t go.” your voice is soft, but the intensity of your gaze on her is commanding. “tell her you’re busy.” 

you squeeze her waist, arms holding steadfast around her. dahyun leans her head down onto your chest and thinks that if she goes to see momo, she’ll have to be away from you, even for just a short time. the thought turns her entire body into protest. 

her phone chimes again, and she thinks about momo, and the kindness she’s always shown her, the kindness she would be showing her by asking. she thinks about how she’s arlady agreed to see her today, and the obligation nearly tears her from you. 

but then, you whisper, “please.” 

what can she do to appease you? 

“okay.” 

dahyun texts momo back, apologizing to her for not being able to make it, and then you and her run hand-in-hand to your car, giggling like two kids in love because they are. 

when you get into your car, her lips find yours again. they become a mashing of teeth, a tangle of limbs, the sliding of two tongues, a mixed songs of pants and moans. and when that isn’t anough, you ask dahyun if she wants to come over to your house because your parents had left for a weekend getaway this morning. dahyun can’t agree fast enough.

the entire tide back is about eight minutes long, but you’re gripping dahyun’s thigh, squeezing every so often, as to remind her of how much she wants you, as if she could forget (not ever). dahyun feels a burning sensation within her, the ache of a dense ball for you, squashing out any nervousness she might have. 

you glance back and forth with each other, not speaking, tension weighing too heavy for words. you’re past her house, and briefly, dahyun wonders if her parents are home. but the next second after, it’s at the driveway of your house, and you’re throwing the car into park, yanking the keys form the ignition slot. 

both of you try to walk casually to the front door, in case of any neighbors watching. dahyun’s become too aware of where her body is in relation to yours, following directly behind you, nearly stepping on the backs of your heels. 

once the door was unlocked, and it’s been countless times before, it still feels like the first time with the way the kitchen is empty of your mom, the way you lead her up the staris with an arm around her waist, the way you pull her through the door of your bedroom, slamming it shut, pushing her against it. 

your hot mouth is on dahyun’s neck, fingers pushing up against the fabric of her outfit, digging into her waist. it’s all too much for her as she’s flustered, whimpering quietly. 

there’s a shift of movement from your door to the bed when you’re sitting dahyun down, you give her another delicate kiss before kneeling in front of her, hodling one of her hands with your pair, looking up at her like she’s the goddess of your shrine. 

“dahyun,” you breathe out, almost like a prayer. “i’ll take it slow, i promise.” you kiss her knuckles, eyes squeezing shut as you do so. when you open them again, the expression is almost too severe. “just promise that you’ll stop me if something’s wrong or if there’s anything you don’t want to do.” 

she nods, but you shake your head unconvinced. “i need you to say it, dahyun.” 

“i promise. i’ll stop you if it’s too much.” even as she says the words, she knows that there isn’t much she wouldn’t be willing to do with you, for you. 

“okay, now where was i?” your voice was low enough to make her tremble. she reaches out to you ascending from your kneeling position, catching your lips with her, and she pulls you on top of her. 

just your weight bearing down on her is enough to make dahyun light headed with want again. you kiss her softly, slowly. your mouth is full of sweet, whispered affirmations, warming her skin with how much you like her, how beautiful she is, how she’s the only one for you as you trail around the shell of her ear, then her neck and shoulders. she might find comfort in the level of care you put into this moment if she weren’t so needy for more of you. 

she’s pulling you back to her mouth, deepening the kiss, and running her tongue over yours, sucking on your lower lip. her hands trace over the defined lines of your midsection, riding up your shirt, your breath hitching from the sudden coolness of her nails against your skin. 

“dahyun.” you look down at her face for a moment, and she’s looking back up at you with a whole-hearted trust and surrender. 

“y/n.” she quietly whines out, tugging at your shirt, hands grazing over where the top part of your hip meets the fabric of your cargo pants. “get rid of this.” 

you’re ripping the shirt off to show a white sports bra, throwing it over you like it was offensive. turning back to dahyun again, the distance zeroed in with a new purpose. 

the cylindrical line of her neck is where your lips are planted, sucking hard. you have one hand holding her cheek while the other is palming her breast through her bra. a moan through her lips to yours was the implication of approval with what you’re doing, and dahyun is loving it. 

dahyun’s arm slithers around your waist while you perch back up to kiss her again with both hands on her face, this time the contact is a lot more intimate than before, the both of you are taking your sweet time compared to the sudden urgency at the doorway of your room and even in your car. each lip lock filled with much more care and love behind it before you’re pulling away with eyes fluttering open. 

it’s all a mess, lips are parted, breaths are heavy, heart rates have been accelerated to over mach 10, but it was so worth it and the both of you knew that. you plop over to her left side on the bed while dahyun makes herself comfortable in a spooning position with your arm over her waist. a much deserved place for dahyun—one that was waiting for her all this time. 

“you’re so pretty.” you mumble softly, moving a wisp of dahyun’s hair away from her forehead before giving another light kiss to her cheek then resting your head against the nook of her shoulders. 

“i like this.” she whispers out, feeling your breath against her clavicle as the sudden wave of sleepiness takes over you two. 

dahyun was the first one to wake up, and the first thing she notices is how safe and warm she feels. your arms are encircled around her completely, the comforter over you and her as well. 

there’s a light orange of light filtering through the blinds that shows it’s sundown, and the nap she took with you could be for an hour or more. she tries to move only to be restricted by your arms tightening around her. 

she twists herself around to look at your face, innocent and soft in sleep. on another day, in another life, dahyun might want to spend the entire day sleeping in your arms. but for right now, she presses her lips to your cheeks and chin. 

“y/n?” dahyun speaks lightly, shaking your shullder just slightly, trying to wake you up. your eyes flash open and you’re inhaling deeply with a hand over your face to scrub the tiredness away. 

“dub, how long have we been asleep?” you ask, voice husky, stirring something inside her.

“i think for an hour or so.” she replies, so you give her another chaste kiss, then untangling yourself from her body sitting up, putting your hands in your face again to get you awake. when you’re cracking your neck and rustling your hair, dahyun keeps her gaze locked onto you as you stare up at the ceiling before meeting her eyes again. 

“you okay?” you chuckle out, “why are you—” 

dahyun then catches you off by surprise when she sits herself on your lap, naturally placing your hands on her hips as dahyun embraces the high ground advantage. you lips are parted as her face is inches away from yours, studying your features. she notices the hit of your puffed lips from the earlier makeout sesh while you study the subtle marks you put on her neck—they weren’t noticeable, but it’s there. 

“hm?” you sound off with closed lips, “what’s the next move?” 

“shh.” dahyun orders and her hands shift your head upwards with the space between your mouths filled with your faces. this time it was your turn to be on the receiving end of this, groaning slightly at the newfound surge that dahyun was possessed by, her fingers getting tangled in your hair as your hands are under her shirt, feeling the small dip of her spine and her snatched waist. 

dahyun’s hair falls onto one side as her hand finds itself on you neck, her other arm wrapped around the back of it as you hum with delight with how she’s handling you like you did with her. she thought that she’d be nervous, but if it’s with you, then she could care less about how to make you feel. 

your hands lock themselves on the back of dahyun’s hips, pulling away to see the flushed chceks and wide pupils in all of it’s glory. 

“this is nice. god, why didn’t we do this before?” you ask breathlessly. 

“maybe because you’re an idiot.” dahyun responds, laughing lightly as she dips her head to meet yours. her fingers are fiddling with the roots on the back of your head, rubbing your neck as you give her a soft smile of approval. you pick up where you left off pouting your lips for another kiss when there’s a sudden vibration on the nightstand. 

it takes about two rings for dahyun to answer her mom on the other end of the phone. “hello?” 

“dahyun, where are you? it’s almost dinner.” her mom asks.

“i’m at y/n’s house right now, we were just…studying.” she answers, trying to keep herself composed when you come up behind her on the edge of the bed, kissing the hanging earlobe and area behind it. 

“oh, you’re with y/n? you could ask her to come along and have dinner with us!” 

“sure, i’ll be there in a bit.” dahyun replies, hanging up the phone after.

“studying, huh?” you say into her ear, teasing with a smile against it. 

dahyun looks over at you, face bright red while you have a shit faced grin stretched all over. if her mom knew what she was actually doing over her, she might never see the light outside of her house again. 

“you’re annoying!” she exclaims, falling back into the bed as you crack a snicker. after a second, you lay next to dahyun, resting your upper body on your elbow. you stare into dahyun’s eyes, and the single second stretches into another tender moment. 

dahyun is about to lean up to kiss you again when you shift your head up at the last second to touch your lips with the tip of her nose. 

“we should get going. i’m hungry anyway.” 

you’re walking together in the fifty feet that it takes to get from your house to dahyun’s, unable to stand being even an inch apart from one another. when you two get to the door, you stall for just a second. 

“okay, just be chill about it. the last thing i want your mom to assume that we’re messing around.” 

dahyun nods. chill. should be simple anyway. you look at her, eyes soft, and pull her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckle before letting go. you open the door first and let dahyun in and the smell of jokbal fills the air. 

“dahyun? is that you?” her mom’s voice calls from the kitchen.

“yeah! i brought y/n with me!” she responds, as you take off your track jacket and shoes at the door before stepping more into the house. her mom pops her head out to see you two, and her face lights up at the sight of you before walking over. 

“y/n! oh my gosh it’s been so long!” dahyun’s mom pulls you in for a loving hug with a kiss to your cheek, pulling away and grasping your shoulders. “what have you been eating? you look so good and healthy.” 

you laugh, putting a hand over the back of your head. “thanks for inviting me over mama kim. you’re literally the best.” you say, smiling, and following her and dahyun into the kitchen. “is that–”

“yours and dahyun’s favorite!” and you're letting out a big whoop out your mouth shaped ‘o’ at the sight of the jokbal set at the dinner table. “you shouldn’t have. do you need any help?” 

“just get the plates and utensils. dahyun can you get the japchae behind me?” to which she nods at her mom before swiftly moving around the kitchen to get the dish. 

few minutes pass and the four of you including dahyun’s dad are all at the table digging in, chatting back and forth with the usual questions about school and how your parents are doing—all the fun stuff to share since it has been a while that you’ve seen dahyun’s parents. the conversation dulls over to all of the times where you would knock at the door for dahyun’s mom to greet you asking if dahyun’s in her room or if you can come inside. 

“did you forget when chaeyoung with the—”

“and when dahyun got all scared about–”

the whole table bursts out into laughter, and dahyun chuckles at the embarrassment she feels over her parents having to retell stories from their childhood in front of a much more coller and well matured version of you when dahyun feels like the same girl you’ve seen her as for most of your life. 

“say, what’s up with chaeyoung? it’s been a while since i’ve heard about her too.” dahyun’s mom asks. 

“well, she has a new girlfriend so she’s been busy with that and with school as well.” 

“good for her, i hope she��s treating her girlfriend well knowing her.” dahyun’s mom adds. 

“what about you, y/n? are you in a relationship right now?” her dad asks suggestively. 

dahyun lets a quick air out of her nose before tapping the table. “dad! don’t ask her that.” she says, upset at the sudden switch of people.

her dad laughs, putting up his hands in surrender. “sorry, didn’t know it was a sensitive subject.” 

“it’s just a little weird, that’s all.” 

you laugh awkwards to ease the energy, looking over at dahyun, “dahyun, it’s fine. to answer your question, i do like someone at the moment, so i’m hoping they feel the same way.” 

dahyun’s face heats up again, and she glances up to see her mom’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. 

“well, i hope that you get some good luck with that.” her dad responds with a sincere smile. 

at the end of the dinner, you and dahyun help clear the table, and her dad tells you two that he’s got it under control, so dahyun walks you out into the night to say goodbye. 

once the front door closes, you look at her from the steps with your hands in the pockets of your track jacket, smiling at dahyun over the hanging light. “good thing you were chill about it.” 

dahyun exhales sharply before pressing her face to a frown, earning another laugh from you as she taps your shoulder urging you to stop. soon after, you’re reaching out to caress the skin on her face with your thumb. 

“it’s okay. i think your dad is very supportive of me still.” you say, looking down at her when dahyun reaches the end of the small steps. 

the only light out now is the one bulb on the front porch, and dahyun feels an annoyancee at how you can still look so beautiful with the dim light and poor quality. then, that feeling settles in ehr gut as something more aching. she closes the distance between you, tilting her head up to kiss you. you smile against her lips, but after a few seconds, pulling away with hands on her arms. 

“your parents are literally inside past the door. do you really want me killed by them?” you whsiper, and dahyun sighs, disappointedly. 

“good night, y/n” 

“good night, dahyun.” you respond, letting go of her. “i’ll text you after basketball, okay?” 

dahyun nods before seeing your off, heading inside after. 

“honey, i know there’s something going on with you and y/n.” her momo says, standing with her arms crossed in dahyun’s bedroom door frame. 

“ma! no, there’s not!” dahyun groans out, hiding her face in her pillow. she hears her mom step over to her and sit down on the side of the bead. her mom places a gentle hand on her back.

“i’ve seen the way you look at her. i know something happened between you two.” her mom’s voice was deliberate, but she had a point. dahyun holds her breath, hoping that if she’s silent enough, her mom will take the hint and leave. 

“y/n is a good kid, we’ve known her for years, but i just want you to be careful okay?” dahyun sits up from her bed as her mom gives her another look with a smile. 

“you two kissed outside our house didn’t you?”

“mom!” 

#hyunie #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice #twice dahyun #kim dahyun #dahyun x reader #twice fluff #kim dahyun x reader

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 2

a/n: omg thank you all so much for the love on part 1!! i really appreciate it, i didn't think anyone would even see it haha! anyways this chapter is a lil longer but i had a lot of fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy!

word count: 3.5k

part 1, part 3, part 4

warnings: slight angst, language

You and Venetia sit in one of the many living rooms, watching TV as she braids your hair. It’s been a few days since your arrival, and you were enjoying the break from the cruel outside world. 

You planned on getting Felix to drive you down to your parents’ house in London soon, just to visit. You didn’t want to completely leave them in the dust, and you hadn’t seen them since Christmas break. If you were being honest, you missed them, and you have a lot to tell them about your second year at Oxford.

“So, when are you going to visit your parents?” Venetia asks as she continues plaiting your hair.

“I think tomorrow, actually.” You reply, glancing down at your hands as you pick at your nails, a nervous habit.

“Nice. Is Felix going with you?” She questions. “Yeah, I’m going to try to get him to drive me so I don’t have to take a cab.” You respond. “I’m sure he will,” She says. You nod softly.

“You know, I’m really glad Felix found a friend like you. Not some girl just desperate to fuck him.” Venetia says quietly, out of the blue. It seems totally random, but you needed that. A reminder for why you’re even here when you clearly don’t belong.

“You keep him in check, you know? You’re a really good influence,” She ties off your braid with a hairtie and you turn around to face her.

“Really?” You ask, blushing at the compliment. “Yeah. I mean it, love.” She grins and throws her arms around you, embracing you in a hug. You smile into her shoulder as you hug her back.

She pulls away. “But have you, like, ever considered dating him?” 

You’re taken aback by the question. Have you? You try to think back on the past four years of knowing Felix Catton.

Sure, the first time you met him, you thought he was slightly attractive. But thoughts of dating him or even getting close to him romantically never crossed your mind.

“No. Never,” You shake your head. “Okay, what about… Farleigh?” 

Your stomach drops and you shake your head aggressively. “No. No, we like, hate each other.” You chuckle slightly at the absurdity of her question. “Why, though?” She asks. “I see the way he looks at you. I don’t think he hates you,”

She must be insane. She’s imagining things, or romanticizing things like she always does.

“Seriously, Vee?” You shake your head and facepalm. “What?! I don’t know, you’d make a good couple.” She giggles and shoves you playfully. “No, we wouldn’t.” 

“Who?” You flinch at the deep voice coming from behind you. You look over your shoulder to see Farleigh walking in with a cigarette in his hand, as per usual.

He sits down in a chair near the couch and takes a long drag from the cigarette. “No one.” You quickly say, narrowing your eyes at him.

“This guy I was telling her about, I was saying they would look good together,” Venetia explains, and you turn to look at her with wide eyes. Why was she lying? Maybe to test her theory, to see if Farleigh got jealous.

Farleigh scoffs. “What guy?” He asks, and you wonder why he’s intrigued. “Just one of my friends,” She waves her hand like it’s not important. 

“Well, if he’s awkward and inexperienced, they’ll make a great match.” Farleigh says. You turn back to him and you can already feel your anger brewing. “Who said I was awkward and inexperienced?” You ask, confusion written all over your face.

“Like, everyone.” He smiles mockingly. “I’m not.” You cross your arms and look down, your face hot with embarrassment. 

“Hell, even Felix was talking about it a few weeks ago.” Your eyes snap back up to him as he blows some smoke from his mouth. The words hang in the silent air for a moment.

“What?” Your voice comes out weak. “Yeah, he was saying he only hangs out with you because he feels bad. I mean, think about it. You come from a middle class family, you’re a broke scholarship student… Felix only hangs out with people on the same level as him. You’re just an exception, I guess.” He shrugs even though everything he just said has made your stomach begin to churn and your heart begin to race.

“Use that pretty brain of yours,” He points at you with his cigarette, smirking as you stare into space, trying to process what he just told you.

“Farleigh.” Venetia warns, shaking her head. She places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure that’s not true. Farleigh’s just a little shit stirrer. He gets off on that,” She rolls her eyes at him.

“No, it’s true. He has this savior complex. This happens all the time, you’re just the only one that happened to stick around. Like a little lost puppy, following him around, cause you have nowhere else to go. You just want this life so bad, don’t you?” He continues, his tone seeping with hatred.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you really don’t want to cry in front of Farleigh. Or Venetia, for that matter. You look around, then stand up and walk out of the room and up the spiraling staircase.

You can hear Venetia scolding Farleigh as you run up the stairs. You eventually storm into your room and shut the door, flopping onto your bed as you begin to sob.

Was it really true? Your whole friendship with Felix was out of pity? 

No. 

~~~

4 YEARS EARLIER

You couldn’t sleep. It was certainly past midnight, you figured. You had been trying to sleep for the past two hours.

Something about this mansion made you feel small and inferior, like you were an imposter. You were, in a way. You didn’t belong. It was taking you a while to get used to the exuberant settings and all the formalities.

As you stared up at your ceiling, you figured some fresh air might help. You grabbed a sweatshirt and threw it over yourself, slipping on your sandals and walking downstairs and out one of the back doors to the courtyard.

You could swear there was someone sitting on the steps. You squinted and you could make out a head of curls and a very small light, a flame. No, a cigarette flame. 

You walked closer and grinned as Farleigh turned to you, flinching a bit.

“Why are you out here?” He asked, his face only illuminated by the ghostly moonlight. “I could ask you the same thing,” You replied, standing over him.

“Can I sit?” You asked. He nodded reluctantly. You sat down and hugged your waist in an attempt to stay warm.

You glanced up at him as he sighed, letting some smoke float out into the air. “You have a smoking problem,” You remarked.

“It’s not a problem. Most people smoke, you know.” He rolled his eyes. “At sixteen?” You asked. “Well, I’m almost seventeen. But yeah,” He nodded and took another drag from it.

“Well, I’ll be waiting for the day when your lungs stop working.” You shot back, grinning at your own statement. “Oookay,” He let out another long sigh as he looked out at the courtyard.

There was a long moment of silence between the two of you. You gazed up at the stars in the clear sky above you, like glitter scattered across a page of black ink. It was peaceful and delicate.

Eventually, Farleigh broke the silence. “You know, I like you a lot more when you keep your mouth shut,”

You rolled your eyes and glanced over at him. “I don’t even talk that much.” You observed the smile he was trying to hide and you nudged him playfully.

“I see you trying not to smile,” You giggled and the smile tugging at his lips broke out into a grin. You poked him in the arm. “You act all tough. Why?” 

His smile faded and he looked back out at the long stretch of grass. “Not sure.” His voice was distant and uncertain. This was the one time he was ever going to let his guard down, you thought to yourself. Maybe it was because he thought you were just a one time guest that he would never see again. 

You two ended up talking for about a half hour, discussing the most random things. But for some reason, it was one of the best conversations you had in a while. You had a lot more in common than you thought. 

You think you ended up dozing off on the steps with him, but you woke up the next morning in your bed. You’re not exactly sure how that happened.

Of course, the next morning at breakfast he acted like he was offput by your presence alone, but you knew what happened the night before wasn’t a dream. It was real, and you knew that when you looked deep into his warm brown eyes.

~~~

The next day, you wake up early to make yourself look somewhat presentable, despite your puffy eyelids from all the crying you did the night before. You put on some light makeup and a white sundress.

Although you didn’t want to face Felix, you needed a ride to your parents’. You head to Felix’s room after putting some shoes on, knocking on his door. 

“Felix,” You call out, knowing he’s probably still sleeping. With no response, you knock harder. “Felix!” You call, slightly louder than the first time.

You hear a loud groan and his bed shifting. “What, mate? Who is it?” He asks. “It’s me,” You reply, staring at the door expectantly.

You hear him shuffling around before his footsteps get louder and the door swings open. His brown hair is messier than usual and his eyes seem to be half open as he studies your appearance.

“What’s the special occasion?” He asks, leaning up against the doorframe as he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Well, I actually have a favor to ask,” You respond, trying to ignore all the thoughts about what Farleigh said last night creeping back into your mind.

“What’s that?” Felix tilts his head curiously. “I was wondering if you could drive me to my parents’ house today. I wanted to visit. Just for the day, you know.” You smile up at him.

He seems caught off guard, and then his expression looks pained. “Oh, you know what? I totally would, but there’s this thing happening in London today. A lot of our friends from Oxford are going to be there, why don’t we just go to your parents’ another day?” He suggests.

You feel disappointment hit you like a tidal wave. Is this what Farleigh was talking about? 

“Our friends? You mean your friends.” You correct him, suddenly feeling the emotions from last night spilling over. “Well, they’d be happy to see you, I’m sure-” “You can’t just do this one thing for me?” You interrupt him.

He looks at you, dumbfounded. “It’s not a big deal, why can’t you just get a cab?” His words cut through you. Not a big deal. 

“You know what, nevermind.” You shake your head and hold up your hands. You turn and begin walking down the hall. 

“I do a lot of things for you, you know!” Felix shouts after you, and you’ve never heard that tone of anger in his voice. He’s always been so kind, so considerate. He used to jump at the chance to help you with something. Now maybe you knew why.

On your way downstairs, you run into the last person you needed to see in this moment. 

Farleigh stops in his tracks when he sees you. He looks up at you from the lower steps, probably noticing your distressed state.

“What’s your problem?” He asks, smirking lightheartedly like it’s another one of his jokes. “Farleigh, I don’t need your little comments right now,” You sigh in exasperation and continue down the stairs, pushing him out of your way.

“Woah, did something happen with you and Felix?” He turns around and follows you out of curiosity. “No. I just-” You realize a possible solution to your problem, but you would rather throw yourself out of a window than spend  nearly two hours in a car with Farleigh.

“You can drive, right?” You turn around to face him once you reach the bottom of the stairs. “Yes… Why?” He narrows his eyes and peers down at you. “Okay, I was trying to ask Felix if he could drive me to my parents’ house today. He obviously said he was too busy for that, so… Can you just drive me?” You look up at him, crossing your fingers behind your back.

The corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk. “Sorry, you’re asking me for a favor?” He chuckles under his breath and raises his eyebrows. “Fuck. Yes, okay?!” You facepalm and wish you had never said something. Now he’s going to tease you over it for the next week or so.

He steps closer and leans down slightly, although you still have to look up at him. “Say please,” He says tauntingly.

You roll your eyes while heat creeps up onto your face. “Please,” You say quietly. “Sorry, I didn’t really hear it,” He leans even closer and you look away. This is why you can’t ask Farleigh for help. Ever.

“Please.” You hate how pitiful and desperate you sound. He seems satisified, so he steps back and stands up straight again. “Alright. Let’s go then, shall we?” You want to strangle him as you follow him out the door.

It’s sweltering outside. You groan. “Oh my God, so hot…” You shake your head and look up at the sun almost already in the middle of the sky.

“What do you say, should we steal his truck?” Farleigh eyes Felix’s truck and nods his head towards it. You know it’s wrong, and he probably will need it later tonight to get to London, but his truck doesn’t have a roof and it would be nice to feel a breeze…

Fuck it. “Do you even have the keys?” You ask, walking over to the truck. Farleigh holds up Felix’s keys to the truck. You cover your mouth and giggle, feeling like you’re back in fifth grade, playing a stupid prank on someone.

You open the door to the passenger’s side and hop in while Farleigh does the same, turning one of the keys and starting the engine. 

“So, what was his excuse?” He questions as he puts the truck in reverse and pulls out of the gravel driveway. He stretches an arm over to place his hand on the back of your headrest, shifting to see over his shoulder. You watch him closely as he does all this.

“Uhm.. This thing in London today. Apparently a bunch of Oxford students are going. Were you planning on going?” You reply, biting your lip as he moved the truck into drive.

Recognition flashes across his face. “Oh. I told him I would go with him, but.. I didn’t really want to anyway,” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Farleigh Start, passing up the opportunity to go to a social gathering?” You gasp sarcastically.

“We spent a whole year with those people. I’d rather not go all the way to London just to see them after what, like, a few weeks?” You squint to look over at him in the sun.

“But you’re driving almost the same distance to my parents,” You raise an eyebrow. He takes a moment to respond, almost like he’s trying to come up with an excuse.

“This is different. You asked me for a favor and I didn’t have anything else to do. It’s not personal.” He glances over at you. His lighter curls that are usually hidden are now illuminated in the golden sunlight.

“I mean, you did have plans with Felix.” You look back out to the road stretched ahead of you and the trees with vibrant green leaves blowing gently in the breeze.

“Okay, do you want me to keep driving?” He glares at you and your remarks. You bite back the smile threatening to form on your face. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” You look down and adjust the skirt of your dress.

After about two hours, you see the sign that tells you you are about to enter the small town where you formed many fond memories.

“This isn’t bad,” Farleigh admits as he slows down to round the upcoming bend. “What, did you think I lived in the slums or something?” You laugh a bit at his remark before staring out the window and admiring the familiar surroundings.

“Maybe.” You can hear the smile in his voice. This is nice, you think to yourself. Maybe you two can actually get along.

“Okay, it’s gonna be the third house to your right.” You tell him. It’s a townhouse, not very big, but quaint and cozy. The walls are old brick and the windows are thin with white frames, and some shrubs grow on either side of the staircase leading up to the front door.

He pulls over next to the sidewalk and puts the truck in park. You undo your seatbelt and open the door, pausing to look over at Farleigh.

You notice he is still just sitting there and staring straight ahead, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the wheel.

“Hey, you can come along, you know,” You say softly. He looks over at you, his expression seeming a bit shocked. He raises his eyebrows.

“Really? You want me to meet your parents?” He smirks and you register his joke. “Oh, shut up.” 

“C’mon, I don’t want you to have to just sit out here. This might take a while,” You explain, gesturing for him to come with you.

“Alright, I guess.” He shrugs and you both get out of the truck. You lead, walking up the stairs and breathing in the scent of the plants and the summer air.

You knock on the door and wait patiently. The door opens and you are greeted by your mother. She exclaims your name joyfully and embraces you in a hug.

“Honey, I didn’t know you were coming!” She pulls away to get a good look at you. You observe her. She looks tired. “I thought I would stop by,” You grin brightly.

“You just get prettier every day,” She hugs you again. “Who’s this?” She asks, noticing Farleigh, who is waiting below on the steps.

“This is Farleigh. I needed a ride, and Felix wasn’t available. This is his cousin,” You step to the side, allowing Farleigh to walk up and shake your mom’s hand.

“Oh, nice to meet you!” She shakes his hand, looking up at him. “You’re tall,” She laughs a bit, taken aback by his height.

Farleigh chuckles a bit. “Nice to meet you, Miss.” He dips his head politely. He’s so fake to adults, you think to yourself. “Ah, a fellow American,” She glances at you with a smile. “Yes ma’am,” Farleigh nods.

“Please, come inside,” She opens the door wider and steps back to let you both in. Farleigh has to duck to fit through the door.

You walk into the small living room and sit on your favorite couch. You see Farleigh observing all the pictures framed on the wall of when you were little. You hear him snicker slightly.

“Where’s Dad?” You ask. Your mom has already entered the kitchen and is pouring some hot tea into some cups.

“He’s at work,” She replies. “On a Saturday?” You ask. Usually your dad got work off on Saturdays. 

“Yep. He’s been working hard lately, trying to make some extra money.” Your mom explains as Farleigh walks over to sit with you on the couch.

She walks over and sets the tea cups down on the coffee table. “Thank you,” Farleigh smiles at her and takes one of them. You follow suit.

It feels intimate, in a way. Farleigh meeting your mother and being inside the home you spent many years in. You aren’t sure if you could consider it a childhood home, since you only spent your teenage years here.

Your mom sits down across from you two in her usual chair. “So, tell me all about school. How were exams?” She asks,

You spend the next few hours just talking. Farleigh is surprisingly very conversational, and he seems to be enjoying himself. All three of you are laughing and sharing stories. Your mom even prepares a nice lunch for you two.

After today, you feel like you’ve learned more about Farleigh than you ever knew before. He’s almost bearable when he’s nice like this, and maybe it really is genuine.

“Well, we should probably start heading back,” You say, standing up from the couch. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll tell Dad you stopped by.” She smiles softly.

And then before you know it, you’re back in the truck with Farleigh, beginning your journey back.

#farleigh start #farleigh saltburn #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x you #saltburn

[roguerogerss]

Show You How Much I Love You

Pairing: Michael Gray x Reader

W/C: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT!!, the second half is just sex, bit of a praise kink, talk of injuries and blood (not related to the smut!)

Description: After Michael gets shot, you’ve been visiting him in the hospital every day. He has a realisation on his last day there, and when you get home, he shows you how much he’s missed you.

(took a lil break from writing tommy all the time - he will be back! promise! - and did a lil spin for michael. i’ve been OBSESSED with both of them recently. so proud of the smut in this bc it’s literally only my second full on smut!!! let me know what u think babes! b back with tommy shtuff sooooon)

—

You hated the hospital. The building always smelled of antiseptic, slightly bitter, but with the added scent of artificial fragrance contained in soaps and cleaning products. And what was worse, the smell would linger on your clothes and in your hair, even hours after you'd left, and you'd have to bathe after every time you visited, to avoid going to bed smelling like death.

"Morning, Miss L/N." The nurses had gotten to know you over the last five weeks, and they'd always greet you when you came to visit. As much as you hated the hospital, and it's smell, the nurses made your visits very slightly more bareable.

"Good morning, Margaret." You sighed, smoothing your hair down and fixing the fur collar of your coat. "How is he, today?"

"He's had some great news today, ma'am. I think you'll be delighted." Margaret smoothed a hand over your back and then hurried off, the nurses were always on the run. You wondered what news your boyfriend could possibly have gotten that would've delighted you, considering all you'd had the past five weeks was more death, upset, and terrible news.

You climbed the stairs, still fussing over your hair, and your coat, and pulling out a small, pocket mirror to fix your lipstick in. You always ended up going to the hospital dressed like a model, because Michael had told you the first time that seeing you all dressed up had been the only thing he was looking forward to.

You plucked a cigarette from your pocket, and balanced it between your lips as you reached his room, "Miss L/N! No smoking, please! It's not allowed.", You waved the nurse off.

You took a slow drag from your cigarette, filling your lungs, and then pushed the door to Michael's room open. You beamed when you saw him, standing by his bed, something he hadn't done for the entirety of his time in recovery.

He held his arms out when he saw your smile, smiling himself, as though he was presenting a gift to you. "Well?"

"Oh my God, Michael!" You ran for him, giggling as you did, and you were met with a grunt when you dived into his arms. Michael stumbled backwards slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, before regaining his balance. His chest stung in all the places he'd been shot, but he didn't care too much. You looked so happy, something you hadn't been since finding out about the mafia, and he wasn't going to take that away from you.

"Jesus." He laughed at your excitement, "I'm still sore, sweetheart."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just...You look so much better."

"I feel better. They've been doing physical therapy the past few days, getting me up on my feet, finally got up on my own today."

"Margaret told me you'd had good news, was it this?"

"This, and," He reached behind him and produced a piece of paper from the bedside cabinet. The words "Discharge Notice" were printed in black at the top of the page. "This."

You gasped, "You're getting out? Today?"

"Yes." He nodded, and you clasped a hand over your mouth, ready to squeal with excitement. Michael interrupted, grasping your wrist between his fingers, "But, love, I'd have to stay with you, so it's only if you'll have me. If it'll be too much of a bother, I can stay here-"

"Michael, don't be daft." You moved your hand from your mouth, to press each palm to Michael's cheeks. "Of course I'll have you. It'd be my pleasure."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, so that your noses were touching. "Are you sure? It's not going to be pretty for the first couple of weeks. Changing bandages, cleaning bullet holes-"

"Michael." You interrupted him quickly, thumb swiping over a small, stitched scar on his cheek. "Of course I'm sure. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we moved in together, anyway, wasn't it? I suppose, it's not under the circumstances we'd like it to have been, but I want to do it."

A comfortable silence fell on the room, Michael was simply smiling, green eyes exploring yours. You ran your fingers over the new scars on his face, and found yourself frowning when you reached a particularly deep one, straight through his eyebrow. He breathed out, "I love you, so much."

You'd never heard anyone say anything with such passion, but Michael had never meant something more in his life. Tommy always spoke about feeling like you'd been pardoned by God when you should've died, and everything else being extra, borrowed time. He didn't think he could live another day without helping you to feel exactly how much you meant to him.

"I love you too, Michael." He was hardly listening to you, just thinking about things he needed to say to you.

"More than anything, you know that, don't you?" He continued. You looked at him, eyes full of concern.

"What's going on?" You were convinced there was something really wrong that he wasn't telling you about.

"Nothing's going on, my love." Michael smoothed your hair down comfortingly, chewing on the side of his lip while he thought about what to say next. "I nearly died, Y/N. I should've died, John did, and he didn't get to tell Esmé that he loved her again. I need you to know what you mean to me. Need you to know how much I love you."

He let his forehead fall against yours, sighed, and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were threatening to fall, and he knew you'd get upset if you saw him cry. But you'd already sensed he was unsettled, and you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then to his nose, and then to his lips, he loved how loving you were.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me. As soon as I can, I'll help you around the house, I'll do everything I can for you." He clasped his hands together at the back of your neck, holding you far enough away that he could really look at you, breaths slightly shaky. "And when I'm better, really better, I mean, I want to marry you."

Your eyes widened, you supposed you might've looked scared to anyone who didn't know you too well. "Michael-"

"I'm serious. If I asked you, right now, to be my wife-"

You shook your head, a grin making it's way onto your face now. "Michael-"

"Will you marry me?" He sounded so serious. You'd spoken about getting married before, and you'd both meant what you'd said, but you hadn't expected he'd ask you so soon. You'd been together just over a year, but you were both still young, and nearly four months of your relationship had just been casual nights together.

"Are you proposing to me?" You were really smiling now. As much as you were young, and as much as you hadn't quite expected this, you were excited. Of course you wanted to marry Michael.

"If that's what you want this to be." He was smiling down at you, grasping both of your hands in his own. He’d have gotten down on one knee if he could’ve, and he felt a slight pang of guilt knowing this wasn’t quite the proposal you’d probably hoped for.

But you didn’t care. Growing up, you’d wanted a big wedding, with a big proposal beforehand, but having someone who you loved as much as you loved Michael, he could’ve proposed to you at a funeral and you’d have said yes. “Well, if that's what's happening, then yes."

"You'll marry me?" The surprise in his voice was completely unmasked. He’d had no idea you’d actually say yes.

"Yes. Yes, Michael, I'll marry you." You felt yourself doing a little jump up and down out of excitement.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!"

Michael arms were around your waist, now, picking you up from the ground and kissing you, completely ignoring the burn in his chest. Your lips always felt made for eachother when he kissed you, and this time was no different, if not even better. You hadn’t been kissing him half as much as you normally would, what with everything going on, and it almost felt desperate, needy.

"Tomorrow, I'll go out, and I'll buy you a ring, alright? Tommy owes me money, I'll use that to buy you the biggest one I can find." You laughed at Michael's excitement. "But this is official. We're engaged, love."

"We're engaged." You repeated, tears in your eyes, and let Michael take your face in his hands and kiss you again. You couldn't quite believe what had just happened - truth be told, neither could Michael - and you certainly didn't ever expect it to happen in a hospital room, but you were excited nonetheless.

"Come on, I've got all of my things packed, let's go home."

-

As soon as you stepped through the door to your apartment, you were apologising to Michael for the "state of the place". You weren't entirely used to having him round, and so felt you had to explain the little messes that you'd often leave laying around.

"Sorry, it's a bit of a mess. I've not been home too often. And it's not as big as yours, I know-"

Michael stopped you before you rambled on about how the fireplace wasn't lit, and you hadn't washed your dishes from that morning, and how you'd left all of your makeup out on the bathroom vanity because you hadn't time to put it away.

"Stop it." He soothed you, pressing a finger to your lips and looking around at your ground floor flat. It certainly wasn't much, but he actually liked your house better than his own. It was smaller, and therefore cozier, and he found the looks he got from neighbours the morning after you'd slept together funny, knowing they'd heard you screaming his name the night before. "It's perfect."

You smiled, half-heartedly, and gestured to the living room doorway, "Here, you can lay down on the sofa, and I can make some lunch. What would you like? Oh, and when do I have to change your bandages, do you remember?" You swung open the kitchen cabinet, searching through the groceries you'd bought the day before. "I'm not sure what I could make. I can go to the store, I think it should still be open-"

"Love, stop." Michael stepped closer to you, hands settling on each of your shoulders. "Just take a minute, calm down, we've got time."

"I know. I know, I just-"

"Don't." He let a hand slip down your arm and into your own, "You've said yes to marrying me today, I'm very much happy dealing with your unwashed dishes, and you can make me lunch any time, now, okay? I'm here to stay."

"Come on, fiancé." Michael grinned at you. "Lay with me, please? Missed you."

You sighed, and turned to close the cabinet door behind you. You were quick to stress yourself out, and normally you'd argue that you couldn't just lay down and forget about the things you needed to do, but you'd missed him too. "Okay."

Michael led you down the hallway and into your bedroom, he'd been here before, but you'd spend most of your time together at his house or at the office, so it felt strange having him in your bedroom. He was one to make himself at home, and today was no different. As soon as he reached your bed, the shirt that he was wearing was unbuttoned and on the floor, and he was sprawled out on top of the sheets, gesturing for you to join him.

You tried to lay down next to him, but he had other plans, hands reaching out to grip your hips and pull you on top of him, one knee on either side of his torso. "Michael!" You giggled.

"Oh, come on. I haven't had any time alone with you in over a month." His hands started to make their way under your dress, and you almost let him, until you snapped back to reality and noticed the bandage wrapped around his body.

"I know." You wanted to, you really wanted to, but you found yourself smacking his hand away before he was able to get past your thigh. "But you're still recovering."

"I'm fit enough." He raised an eyebrow at you, and you were certainly considering it. He could definitely be very convincing, when he wanted to.

"Are you sure?" You stuck your bottom lip out, pouting at him.

"I'm sure, baby." His hands found their way to your waist, and he was looking up at you with what you could only describe as hunger in his eyes, jaw clenched. He made it so hard for you to say no. "Come on, let me prove it to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

"I don't know, Michael-"

"Please, sweetheart." He interrupted you, "Missed your body. Been so desperate for you."

Hearing him say he was desperate for you had a knot growing in your stomach. You sighed, weighing up the options you had, but ultimately deciding that you'd both be unable to think about anything else if you didn't have sex.

"Okay. Alright, but if you feel like you need to stop, you stop. Okay?"

"I will. Thank you, darling." You could feel him hardening through his trousers, and it had you biting down hard on your lips, having been waiting for this moment to come since he could sit up straight. He'd teased you while in the hospital, talked dirty, touched you every now and again, but it was hard to find a time when a nurse wasn't going to walk in and scold him for being too active, and Polly wasn't going to come in for a visit. "Now, come here."

He pushed himself up, back against the headboard, and dipped his head to connect your lips. It was fast, rough, a clash of teeth and tongue and lips, he'd missed you, and you were making it clear that you'd thought about him for the entire time he'd been in the hospital.

His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer so that you were chest to chest. He could feel his wounds burning when your torso collided with his, but the taste of your lips on his and the feeling of having you so close again quickly dissolved any discomfort he felt.

He was so needy for you, hips bucking upwards to meet yours, hands sliding down to grip your hips, you thought it was the hottest you'd ever seen him. "Fuck, Michael." You gasped out as his lips found your neck, head falling back.

He groaned at the sound of you moaning for him, he'd been waiting to touch you for so long. "Need you, pretty girl. We've got plenty of time for other things later, but I need to be inside you right now."

You didn't need to say another word, you simply nodded and helped him to unbuckle his belt while you hiked your dress up above your waist. His fingers grazed over your lingerie, and you mewled, the feeling almost too much. "Jesus, baby, you're so wet already. Haven't even done anything yet."

"Missed you so much, Michael." You breathed out, an answer to his statement, and simply a statement in itself.

"Missed you too, princess." You loved when he called you pet names.

You watched as he freed himself from his underwear, and his cock sprung up, hard and ready for you. "You're hard already." You mocked his words, and he laughed.

Neither of you wasted any time with foreplay, your panties were ripped off and on the floor with one flick of Michael's wrist, and he was lifting you off of him slightly, and guiding you back down onto his cock.

The feeling of him sliding into you again was euphoric for both of you. You hadn't had sex in more than a month, as opposed to usually being borderline sex addicts, and you knew you wouldn't last long.

You both let out pornographic moans as he bottomed out, Michael's face said it all. His mouth hung open, eyebrows knitted together, eyes wide, you were so tight, he could've came at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

"Fuck, not gonna last long, honey." His forehead fell against yours and he screwed his eyes shut, just revelling in how good you felt around him. "Are you alright?" He asked, hand holding and stroking your waist lovingly. He was big, and you were so used to him before that you hardly needed any time to adjust, but with being away from eachother for so long, he was almost too much to handle.

"I'm okay. Give me a second. Feel so full." You were breathing heavily, shifting around. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, just a lot to take.

Michael ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and pressing kisses to your forehead. "Taking me so well, baby. Just take your time."

"Fuck," You moaned, you loved when he was sweet to you in bed. You'd told him months ago that you thought it might've been your biggest turn on. "You can move."

Michael looked up at you, just for an extra check that you were truly alright, and, upon finding no sign that you weren't, bucked his hips up to meet yours. You almost screamed, he knew exactly what spots to hit, and he did every time without fail.

You bounced on him, his hands helping you, lifting you off of him and bringing you straight back down at new angles every time. "You feel so good, Mike."

"Fuck, good girl. That's a good girl." Michael let his forehead drop onto your collarbone, watching your tits bounce up and down. You were so beautiful, he often wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. "Tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"So, so good. Missed your cock so much. Love it so much." Your words were slightly slurred, eyes starting to droop. He loved watching you, how much of a mess you'd get, just from riding his cock.

His hands found your tits, massaging them and twisting your nipples, which always had you screaming for him, and today was no different. "Feel good?"

"Feels fucking amazing." He thrust into you at just the right angle, which had you gasping and digging your nails into his back, leaving little red half moons on his shoulder blades. "Oh, right there, Mike.”

"Shit, baby, are you close?" You were clenching around him so tightly, "Can feel it, you're close."

"I'm so close." You moaned, you were certain your upstairs neighbours would hear you, the walls and ceilings were thin, and Michael was making you yell out in pleasure.

"Me too. Almost there, sweetheart. Hang on for me." He increased his speed, making it even harder for you to hold on, and making your moans fall from your lips even louder than before.

"I don't think I can, Mike." Your legs were shaking like crazy, and you could feel his dick tensing inside of you. You needed to come so badly.

"I said hold on. You can hold it." His face was stern as he said it, dominant side coming out as he grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him, bucking his hips at the same time. He was going to make this so good for you.

"Fuck, Michael, please." You threw your head back. You felt his cock twitch, and a loud moan come from him, he was going to come.

"Alright, baby, come. Come with me."

Your throat was hoarse from moaning as loudly as you were, but it didn't stop you from screaming his name as your walls tightened around him and you came undone. The feeling of his cum painting your insides never got old, always made you feel like you could go at least another few rounds.

"Oh my God." You panted, collapsing onto his chest as he lay back on the bed. You both lay there, breathing heavily, sweaty messes, for a few minutes. You didn't think you could move very far, your legs were shaking against him.

"Jesus, have I missed this." Michael kissed the top of your head through quick, harsh breaths.

"I've missed this so much." You agreed, heart pounding.

You lifted your head, just enough to see that there were a few speckles of blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. "You're bleeding, baby. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He nodded, and reached over to your bedside cabinet to grab the small alarm clock that sat there. It read two o’clock. Michael grinned at you.

"Time to change the bandages."

#michael gray x reader #michael gray #michael gray smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders x reader #finn cole #peaky blinders fic

[fadedncity]

wc: 2.5k

pairing: hades!johnny x persephone!reader

cw: smut, greek gods!au, husband!johnny, fem!reader, pet names, teasing, use of titles (king, queen, your majesty), oral sex (receiving), fingering, body worship, finger sucking, riding, mating press, lil bit of praising, creampie, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, lowkey dumbification

song rec: won’t by tanerélle | aphrodite by rini | in a week by hozier | 7th heaven by quin

"Where is she?"

"Where she always is."

Johnny's long legs carried him in long strides through the palace, bursting through the doors at the end of the corridor.

The moment he stepped outside, he could already feel your warmth radiating through the entire garden, looking much more lively than in the past six months.

Johnny found himself out here more often than not with the wilting flowers and dying trees, longing for your return just as he had. Now, life was coursing through the entire garden, the tall standing trees rustling in the breeze, flowers blossoming all around his feet. He could feel your presence growing stronger the further he walked. 

When he finally spotted you, you had your back to him. And Johnny could already feel his heart hammering against his chest.

Just laying eyes on you, it seemed his lungs were finally able to intake the oxygen around him a little easier.

Without even looking away from the plants you were bringing back to life, you spoke,

"What did I tell you about those boots in my garden, John?" 

Johnny looked down at his feet and then at the trail of scorched earth behind him. 

"Sorry," he mumbled. He kicked off his shoes and continued toward you. 

You finally turned around, and Johnny felt like it was the first time again. You stood from the dirt, your long dress flowing around you and slightly waving in the wind.

Johnny's arms were immediately around you, pulling you to him.

Your heart had ached for this man for half the year, and it almost felt like your chest would explode, finally being in his arms again.

You ran your hands up his arms to his shoulders, one of them cupping his face. 

"Hi." Johnny's heart melts at the way your eyes sparkle at him. 

Johnny sighs, nuzzling his face into your touch, "Hi." 

"Six months have felt like an eternity away from you, my love." 

"I know. It's been hell here without you."

You laughed, "That joke doesn't get any better, babe." 

"It made you laugh, though," Johnny grinned. 

"Because it was terrible. Leave them to Mark," you patted his chest. 

"Fine." 

. . . 

Anything he needed to do today was quickly pushed back to tomorrow at least, Johnny not wanting anything other than to be with you right now. 

Your feet mindlessly swayed in the air as you lay on your stomach face to face with your lover. You rest your chin on Johnny's chest, studying the details of his face as if they would have changed much in the past few thousand years you've been married. 

"Have you been sleeping? You look tired," you frown, noticing the dark circles around his eyes. 

"I'm fine," he told you. The look in your eyes was enough for him to know you don't believe him. "I've just been working a lot, that's it. And it's kinda hard to sleep when you're not here."

You sat up on your knees before swinging one of your legs over his waist to straddle him. 

"I'm sorry about that, baby," you pout, caressing his face. 

"You should be," Johnny teased, pecking your lips, "But now you can make it up to me," he whispered. 

"Anything for you, my King," you teasingly whispered back. 

Johnny's hands on your waist moved down to cup your ass. You slide one of your hands over the silky material of his shirt, grab the back of his neck, and deepen the kiss. 

Johnny's hands fell to your thighs, slowly pushing the skirt of your dress up. A shiver ran down your spine, your stomach coiling from excitement. Johnny slipped his tongue into your mouth when you dragged your hips against his, trying to relieve built-up pressure between your thighs.

Your back met the mattress, your head lying against the pillows as Johnny's body occupied the space between your legs. 

His hands wandered all over your body, cupping your breast, squeezing your thigh; it was all too much but not enough.

Johnny's lips traveled down to your neck, softly kissing you there. He bunched up the fabric of your dress in his hands, pushing it up to your hips. He bit and sucked your skin, making his way down your body. 

"So, so beautiful," he mutters between kisses down your stomach.

Johnny touches you like he doesn't have every inch of your body memorized already; as if it were his first time with you.

He pushes your knees apart, settling between your legs. He slowly kisses his way up your inner thighs, digging his nails into your skin when he hears the faintest whimper or whines fall from your lips.

With a subtle wave of his fingers, your panties are discarded to ashes. Any other time you would've chastised his use of his powers, but you couldn't care in the slightest.

Johnny's predatory gaze falls to your pussy, only a few inches away from his face. 

"You gonna let me taste you, sweetness?" 

You eagerly nodded, "Please, Johnny," you said so faintly it was almost a whisper. 

Johnny smirked, lowering his head and flattening his tongue against your lips. You moaned, rolling your hips into his mouth. He teasingly circled your slit with the tip of his tongue before bringing his attention to your clit. You lifted your hips off the bed, raising them against his face before Johnny held your hips, keeping them pinned to the bed.

"Patience, baby. 186 days, I've waited for this. To have you again," he placed both your legs over his shoulders, giving your thighs more kisses, "So, I will take my time if I please."

He ran his tongue through your folds, your juices reminding him of sweet nectar on his tastebuds. Your eyes rolled back, bliss written all over your face as you lost yourself in the pleasure he was giving you. Johnny wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves, resulting in your back arching away from the bed. 

You brought one of your hands to his head, fingernails lightly scratching his scalp.  

"Gods, John, please don't stop."

Johnny moans into your pussy in response. Your legs threaten to close around his head, but he doesn't give them a chance to, hooking his arms under your thighs and keeping them apart to allow him to continue to eat you out like a starved man.

The one thing Johnny wishes he could do for the rest of his immortal life, it's to give you pleasure. The sounds you make, the look on your face, the way your body trembles, all of it; Johnny wishes to be the source of it all for the rest of time. 

"Johnny—fuck. Always make me feel so good," you whine. 

"You wanna cum for me, baby?" 

"Yes, m'so close," you mumble, nodding. 

You could feel yourself nearing the edge before finally falling over. A loud cry of Johnny's name bounced off the walls, surely heard by the palace staff everywhere. 

Even after already cumming, you couldn't help the thoughts running rampant in your head, feeling your skin burn under his touch as he lapped at your folds. It aroused you, even more, having him use his strength against you, knowing he can't hurt you even if he tried.

He left you with one last kiss on your knee before he sat up. You lazily watched your husband begin to undress. He noticed your eyes on him and teasingly undid the buttons of his black silk shirt slowly. You sat up, the fatigue from your first orgasm no longer existent. A smirk was planted on your face as your eyes drank in the man before you. 

Johnny could see from his spot at the foot of the bed the lust swirling around your irises and practically smell your arousal seeping onto the bed sheets. 

Getting impatient, you slide off the bed and stand in front of Johnny, hooking a finger in the belt loop of his pants, tugging him closer. Your lips meet in a messy, desperate kiss, your teeth and tongue clashing. 

You slide his shirt off his shoulders before running your hands down his chest, letting yourself get refamiliarized with his body, having missed feeling his skin against yours these past two seasons. Without breaking the kiss, your fingers blindly undo his pants until they end up on the floor along with his shirt. 

Johnny's hand snaked around your back, pulling you flush against him, untying the laces until the front of your dress fell. He kisses your shoulders as he slips the material off your body, leaving you naked before him.

Johnny wastes no time touching and kissing your body, worshipping you as the goddess you are. 

You push him back onto the bed, Johnny's eyes practically turning black as you get on top of him. You sink your teeth into your bottom lips, feeling his cock between your folds. You couldn't resist the urge to drag your hips against his once again.

"I need you so bad," you whimper, your slick dripping onto his cock.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please, Johnny."

"Whatever my Queen wants, she gets," he tells you before lifting you out of his lap and lining his cock up with your entrance. 

Lowering yourself onto Johnny's cock, you're refamiliarized with the feeling of him splitting you apart in the best ways.

"You feel so fucking good," you utter. 

"Gods, you're so wet, sweetheart," Johnny groans, fingernails digging into your skin. 

You grin, lifting your hips before sinking back down onto his cock. 

"It's all for you, baby," you slowly start to ride him, unable to resist how good it feels to be so full. 

Johnny can't tear his eyes away from your face. Loving the way you lose yourself in ecstasy. 

He lifts his hips to meet yours, and your eyes roll back into your skull. Too focused on how good it feels, you wrap your arm around his shoulder to balance yourself as you bounce in his lap.

Johnny's hands were all over you while his mouth traveled over your chest, biting, kissing, and licking your skin.  

You tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. When you broke the kiss, Johnny's thumb softly edged your bottom lip, silently asking for entry. 

You enthusiastically suck on his thumb, coating the digit in your saliva before he slips his hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit. 

"Johnny," you gasp, "Fuck, I can't. John, I'm gonna-" Johnny slamming up into you, cut off your words.

The room seemed to grow warmer, the fires lit around the room burning brighter. 

"Come on, baby. I know you wanna cum," Johnny rubbed coordinated circles on your clit with his thumb, "Be a good girl and cum for me," the vibrations of his voice shot straight to your core.

Your cries and moans were music to his ears, mixing with the sound of skin hitting skin. The knot inside you snapped, and Johnny felt your pussy choking his cock, sucking him deeper into your warm wet heat. 

"Fucking hell," Johnny clenches his jaw. 

You bury your face into Johnny's neck, allowing yourself to catch your breath. 

You lift your head from his neck and rest your forehead against his. 

"I love you," you whisper against his skin, kissing his face. 

"I love you," he groans as you start rolling your hips again.

"Please, fuck me, John," you begged, "Remind me who I belong to."

Johnny threw you onto your back and pushed his cock back into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, unable to get enough of him. 

"It would be my pleasure, your majesty," he leaned down and met your lips in a kiss, slowly drawing his hips back before easing back in. 

You feel every inch of him, stretching you open, fucking you nice and deep.

"More, more, more, Johnny, please!" you lift your hips to meet his. 

Your husband grabbed your legs, placing them over his shoulders, folding you in half as he plowed into you. 

The tip of his cock reached so deep inside, you could feel him in your stomach, rightfully rearranging your guts.

You found yourself gripping onto the sheets, pillows—anything you could get a hold of, all the pent-up longing you've held onto all this time being released after finally being reunited with your love. 

You felt yourself losing more and more control as you drowned in pleasure. Vines wrapped themselves around the headboard, flowers miraculously blossoming across the room. 

Johnny's chest blooms with pride, knowing he's the only one with the ability to make you feel good enough you lose control of your powers like this. Your whimpers and whines were as sweet as a prayer on his ears. It makes him slam into you harder, faster. 

If you were mortal, your muscles would've screamed in relief when he lowered your legs from his shoulders but kept your knees close to your chest. His thrusts never falter, continuing to pound into you. 

Your pussy clenches around his cock, feeling even tighter than before. The way he messily snaps his hips into yours, pistoning his cock in and out of your sopping hole, you knew that knot inside of him would break sooner rather than later. 

Johnny watches your pussy and swallows his cock, taking him so well.

"Gods, I've missed you," he muffles your moans with his lips on yours, "And this pussy. You were fucking meant for me," he growls, his cock twitching against your gummy walls. 

"Johnny," you whine. 

"What is it, my love?" he slows down but continues his deep strokes. 

"Please, baby, I wanna feel you," you plead.

"Cum with me," he tells you before bringing his thumb back to your clit, sloppily circling the bundle of nerves. 

Your toes curled, and your fingernails dragged across Johnny's skin, hard enough to leave red streaks on his arms. 

You could barely keep your eyes open, slowly blinking up at the man above you as your body approached another climax.

"That's my girl," he hums, "Cum for your King," his eyes glimmer red.

His last words toppled you over the edge, euphoria flooding your entire body. Your orgasm sent Johnny into his own, warm ropes of his cum spilling into your messy cunt. 

You whimper against Johnny's lips, feeling empty as he pulls out of you. He lays beside you, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over himself to keep you close. Neither of you caring about the mess of bodily fluids and flower petals all over the bed. 

"Fuck, I've missed you," you crash your lips into his. 

You pull yourself up into Johnny's lap, his hands holding your waist. You grab onto his hair, making him crane his neck up at you as you slip your tongue into his mouth, your lover sucking on the wet muscles. 

You both pull away, catching your breath but staying close enough you're sharing the same oxygen. 

"You really aren't trying to waste any time, huh," he asked, nudging your nose with his. 

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around him.

"186 days. I've wasted enough." 

a/n: I know it's been a minute but seriously life has been fucking crazy and exhausting so, sorry about that. but thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated <33

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[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader

WC: 6.7k

Summary: You’d never met anyone like Suguru Geto before. It seems strange that just a few hours ago, you’d never seen or heard of this man in your life. But it feels like you're drawn to each other in ways neither of you can explain. There's a pull you couldn’t resist if you tried.

Rockstar AU

Story Warning: Smut, Blowjob, Mutual Masturbation, Female Masturbation, Profanity because come on..., Sprung Suguru, Cumshots, Facials, Cumplay (a lil bit), Fingersucking, A sprinkle of power dynamic, Oral Sex, First Day Hookups

Suguru art by: @affectbitter

AN: There's some OCs in this one bc this was just a funny idea between me and some friends LMAO. Imagine them however you will!

The roar of the crowd is almost painful in your ear as you enter the venue. You’ve made it just in time, with minutes to spare. 

“Excuse me. Sorry! Just gonna squeeze past you here…I’m sorry…”

The apologies fall from your lips as you navigate through the crowd of people in the arena. You’re trying to find your way backstage before the concert begins for this band… Demon Parade?

An up and coming group, quickly rising in stardom who you never would have heard of had you not been scouring the job boards for an easy and quick way to make money. Imagine your surprise when you found a job posting for them stating the band was in need of an efficient, organized assistant. A go-getter who would be willing to do anything to aid in their success and ride along with them. 

You’d had some assistant jobs in the past, nothing too crazy, but you knew what the basic expectation of an assistant was. So you applied for the job, not thinking there was a chance in hell you’d get it, but you needed something and anything was better than nothing. Besides, the job came with all the perks: benefits, free travel, a food allowance. Sounded like a steal. 

You got the call less than a week later, saying that you were a great fit and exactly what the band was in search of! It didn’t seem real at the time, even after you’d hung up, filled out your onboarding paperwork and were sent all of your information for your first day – the concert you were currently pushing your way through. It felt even less real when you received your all access badge at the arena doors.

You’d made sure to listen to a few of Demon Parade’s songs and you had to admit, you liked what you heard, but you wouldn’t exactly call yourself a superfan. Not like the crowd of people swarming around you as you hurried through to backstage. God, it was fucking packed.

Is this band that good?

The moment you enter backstage, you feel like you can breathe again. It’s less crammed, so you feel like you can relax a bit. But that feeling only lasts for a second before someone practically materializes out of thin air before you. They call your name, one hand coming up to tap the small earpiece in their ear, the other coming up to indicate for you to stop.

“Yep, she just got here,” They mumble into the earpiece. “I’ll bring her back.” They tap the earpiece again, waving to you to follow them. “I trust you didn’t have any trouble getting back here?” 

“Nope, fairly easy,” you answer, quickening your pace to catch up with them.

“Good,” they make a sharp turn around a corner, speeding up and you feel like an idiot essentially running behind them. “I’m Jaz, the band’s manager. We don’t have too much time. I’ll give you a brief overview of the band and each member and then I’ll introduce you to them.”

“Oh, so just…immediately starting? Is there like…a formal training I should be going through first? Or a new hire orientation?”

“No,” they state. “Do what the band asks and if you do it well enough and the band likes you, you’ll be able to keep your job by the end of the night.”

Your eyes wide as you rush to walk next to Jaz. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. If you make a good impression on the band, we’ll keep you. We’re about to start a national tour in a few days and we need someone who will be able to get the job done. If not, we move on.”

“Okay, so just…do what they ask me to and…that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Jaz confirms. “It’s that simple.”

So this whole first day is a test…given with no actual instructions…Fucking weird, but who are you to argue?

You’ll just have to use your prior assistant knowledge to make it work. If you’ve done one assistant job, you’ve done them all. You think so, at least.

You hurry through the halls alongside Jaz, the hallways snaking around to the back of the venue where there are many different dressing rooms – one for each band member and one for the group. Jaz reaches a door with a sign taped to it with the name Demon Parade on it. Scribbled in the corner of the sign is what looks like a very poorly drawn penis.

Jaz sighs when they see the doodle and whips around to face you.

“First things first, a brief rundown of the band.” They fish out their phone to pull up a group photo of the members on stage at one of their concerts. They point to a beautiful brunette woman in the photo before their finger glides over to a tattooed man with his hair piled high atop his head in a loose bun. “This is Shoko Ieiri – our bassist – and this is Suguru Geto – our lead guitarist. Both very low maintenance, very easy to get along with because they most likely will take very little interest in you.”

They then point to a blonde man who looks about ready to clock out at any moment and then to a white haired guy with freakishly blue eyes. “Kento Nanami is our drummer and this annoying beanpole here is Satoru Gojo – our lead singer,” Jaz finishes, rolling their eyes when they point to Gojo. But you can see a clear fondness there with the way their eyes linger on the screen.

You nod, eyes locked on the heavily tattooed raven haired man on the phone. He looks a little bored, almost like he’d rather be anywhere but where he was at that moment. Even so, his gaze is intense. You know it’s impossible, but you feel as though he’s looking at you through the phone. It’s literally a picture taken at some random venue that you’d never seen in your life. But, it feels like he’s staring right at you. Those feline eyes of his look so deeply into the camera, peer so powerfully into your eyes through the screen, it makes you look away. There’s something about that guy, something that’s almost familiar…it makes a tingle race up your spine. 

You’re not sure if the feeling is good or bad, but you don’t have time to think too much about it because Jaz is knocking on the dressing room door. A massive, burly man donning sunglasses is opening it, peering at you from over his shades. Jaz is moving past him, beckoning you to follow when you don’t move, cemented to your spot.

Because you’re still thinking about that fucking picture.

“Hey,” The goateed man says when you’ve finally entered the room. You notice then that he’s wearing a black windbreaker with Security on one side and his name on the other. Your eyes quickly drift down to his nametag.

Yaga…With a little panda sticker next to his name. This old guy loves cute things apparently. It’s sweet, makes you smile.

Yaga quickly introduces himself. “Nice to meet you,” He grunts, no smile returned. “I’m head of security for the band. My name’s Yaga.” He doesn’t await a response from you, turning to speak with Jaz instead and you take that time to have a look around in the interim.

The dressing room is incredibly spacious. In a corner across the room, there’s a snack table full of an assortment of candies and bags of chips with the members' faces on them as well as an array of drinks. Large couches are arranged throughout the room, enough space between them to give each member their own little area to lounge in. There are also vanity areas along the back wall with brightly lit mirrors and chairs for each member.

You’re assuming it’s Shoko who sits in one of the vanity chairs getting her makeup done. She is the only female member after all. She’s as beautiful in person as she appears in pictures, though her hair is a lot longer than in the picture Jaz showed you earlier. She’s on her phone scrolling boredly, but when the door clicks shut, your eyes meet in the mirror and she waves quickly as the makeup artist applies her lipstick.

“Hey,” is all she says.

On the far side of the room is a blonde man reading a newspaper, he glances up for all of two seconds when you enter the room and then he’s back to reading. Next to him is a girl who can’t yet be in her 30s, leaning her head against his shoulder. They look cozy together. Maybe they’re dating? You make a mental note to ask Jaz about this later.

Just a few steps away from you, seemingly appearing out of thin air by the snack table, is Satoru Gojo, lead singer of Demon Parade.

His eerily blue eyes glance up when you enter the room, and then he shoots you a beaming smile as he leaves his spot by the snacks and strolls over. He grins at Jaz who has now made their way back to you, rolling their eyes again as Satoru gets closer.

“Jaz,” he purrs. “What do we have here? A meet and greet?” Gojo asks, eyes locked on his manager. His gaze wanders over their clothes as if he can see straight through them. “You look good. Missed you last ni–”

Jaz holds up a hand, cutting him off and getting straight to the point. They introduce you to Satoru, Shoko, Nanami and the woman sitting next to him who you’ve learned is Nicole – their vocal coach, though she doesn’t appear to be doing much vocal coaching while she makes googly eyes at Nanami.

Yaga sighs as he goes back towards the dressing room door and Jaz follows behind him, pulling their phone out and typing away. You don’t miss that the moment Jaz is putting their phone back in their pocket, Satoru is pulling his out to quickly glance at his screen, smirking before he slides it back into his pocket.

Okay, there’s clearly something going on there.

“Call me if you need anything,” Yaga utters to Satoru, but Satoru isn’t even listening anymore. He’s back at the snack table rummaging through the available items. Yaga pulls the door open to let Jaz exit first. Behind you, you hear him briefly grunting an “excuse me” as someone else enters the room before he’s also gone.

And you can’t really explain it, but the moment this other person enters, the air in the room shifts. 

At least for you. 

They move past you, their bare arm just barely brushing against your own and you startle at the charge of pure electricity that jolts through you at the near contact. They seem to feel it too, because they pause, whipping around to look at you and you’re met with those sharp, cat-like eyes you’d just seen peering through a screen now staring into your own. That familiar tingle you’d felt outside of this very room zips back up your spine.

Suguru Geto stands before you, his beautiful face framed by his signature raven locks that now cascade around his shoulders. He’s somehow even more striking with his hair down, beautiful. He says nothing as you stare each other down, the air between you thick with something you can’t quite describe. The room around you blurs as your vision seems to hone in on Suguru and Suguru only. 

It’s after a few moments of tense silence that Suguru breaks eye contact first, eyes trailing down your form. And suddenly you feel as though you’re under a microscope, being so closely examined by him. You can’t help but feel exposed. He tilts his head to the side, his hair falling with the motion. He cards his fingers through his strands, pushing them back, eyes narrowing when they meet your gaze again. His brows knit together for a moment and then he speaks.

“Have we met before?” 

Your pathetic body reacts immediately, melting the second his voice reaches your ears. Goosebumps race across your skin, even as your body feels like it’s being engulfed in heat. Your heart feels like it’s crawling up your chest and into your throat, your pulse is beating behind your ears so hard it’s making you dizzy. 

What is this?

You don’t understand this sudden racing of your heart, the way your hands feel clammy, the explosive reactions your body is having to him simply looking at you. 

Suguru leans his head to the other side and the movement brings you back to reality, helps you to remember that you’re just standing there like a fucking idiot when he had asked you a question. You shake your head quickly, suddenly unable to find your voice. 

Suguru looks you over once more, almost like he doesn’t believe your answer, until Satoru interrupts.

“You’ve never met her. She’s our new assistant. Starting today,” he announces, mouth full, from what seems to be his permanent spot by the snack table. He tells Suguru your name. Suguru quickly glances back at Satoru before his eyes drift back to you again.

“Yeah?” Suguru asks, eyes still on you. You can see Satoru turn back to the snack table from your peripheral, picking at different candies. “Nice to meet you. I’m Suguru,” he states.

For some reason, it dawns on you then that Jaz is no longer there to speak for you. You’re on your own. Jaz’s earlier words ring through your ears. Whether or not you get to keep this job depends on how well you do tonight.

So you clear your throat, finding your confidence again. You know what you’re doing and Suguru is essentially your boss. Just like the other members, so you needed to build a relationship with him all the same. “Yes, I’m your new assistant and I’m very excited to be able to work with you all. Please let me know what you need and I’ll do my best to make sure you’re all happy.”

A small smile graces Suguru’s features and the tiny motion has your heart picking up speed again.

Fucking relax.

“Yeah, I got a couple things you can do for me,” he voices.

“Okay,” you glance back towards Shoko who is eyeing you through the reflection of the mirror. “Anyone else need anything before the show?” She shakes her head indicating your assistance isn’t necessary. You look to Nanami who couldn’t look less interested in what’s happening right now. Next to him, Nicole shakes her head as well.

“All good here,” Satoru says, waving you off. “Suguru, be nice.”

“When am I not?” Suguru chuckles, closing the distance between you and slinging his arm around your shoulder. The contact makes your skin erupt with goosebumps once again.

Only this time, you feel a little less crazy about your body's seemingly random reaction to Suguru’s touch because as you glance down at the arm wrapped around you, see the telltale sign of goosebumps along his skin, too.

- - - - - -

Suguru doesn’t have shit for you to do. The concert is happening soon so there’s not much else left to do that the other staff hasn’t already taken care of. He’s not sure why he lied to you, but the moment he saw you, there was something familiar about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’s certain you’ve never met, he would’ve definitely remembered your face; lovely, beautiful, stunning, all the words that could describe how nice you were to look at. Looks aside, there’s just something about you that has his mind reeling.

He’d heard from Jaz that the band would be getting a new assistant today. Didn’t make a difference to him, staff was staff. He was sure the new assistant would be fired by the end of the night, if not the end of the week. They could never keep an assistant too long, most of them deeming Satoru too needy, Shoko too cold, Suguru too mean. The list went on and on. The simple truth of the matter was Suguru had a goal, a plan for his success and if an assistant wasn’t able to hang in there for the ride, then they weren’t worth his time. Suguru stopped caring about who their assistant of the week was a long time ago.

So what was it about you that had him hiding you in his dressing room until the show started; showing you his favorite guitars, asking you about how you got this job, wondering how you liked it so far, if you’d heard their music? Any other assistant he’d have running to get him a coffee, doing menial tasks just for laughs. But for you, he’d grabbed a coffee with you and spent that time practically bombarding you with questions the moment he had you alone. Suguru knew more about you in 20 minutes than girls he’d dated for months. And he had no idea why he cared so much.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You ask. Leaning against the wall of his dressing room, Suguru watches as you sit on his dressing room couch, strumming the strings on his guitars. 

“I mean, it shouldn’t matter.”

“Jaz made it clear I need to keep you all happy or else…” you make a dramatic slicing motion across your neck, pulling a laugh from Suguru.

After finding out Suguru did not actually have anything for you to help him with, he spent a few minutes trying to calm your mini panic attack where you told him about how nervous you were. How badly you needed this job. So he’d brought you back to his dressing room to hang out where no one would see you aimlessly wandering.

“The guys said they’re good, so no need to worry about them. They’re happy right now,” Suguru reassures you.

“And you?” You ask, eyes meeting his from across the room. It makes him inhale sharply, trying to calm the swift pounding of his heart. “Are you happy?”

He nods. “I’m happy.” You pluck a string on his guitar, the offkey note cutting through the tension Suguru was beginning to feel. “Despite your horrible guitar playing skills, I’m happy.”

You laugh. “Rude.” You pluck again, this time the note is more bearable. “If I make it past today, I’ll be on the road to continue on tour with you guys,” you told him.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes look on as your fingers dance along the strings of his guitar awkwardly. He could show you how to hold a guitar, how to hit a note that’s not offkey, but he’s enjoying watching you struggle a little too much. It’s cute, though his body’s reaction to watching the way you hold the neck of the guitar is…less appropriate than what the situation calls for. “Has anyone ever told you you have really nice hands?”

Because he wouldn’t mind having your really nice hands wrapped around his cock.

The question comes out before he can stop it. For any other groupie he’d brought back to his room, the answer to the question wouldn’t have mattered. He’d just be making small talk, he wouldn’t have even meant the compliment. But for you…he was mesmerized by the way you held his instrument, the sight filling his head with lewd thoughts.

You freeze at his question, glancing back at Suguru. “No…thank you?”

Suguru chuckles, moving from his spot on the wall to take a seat next to you. The air immediately thickens, this close proximity to you making it hard for him to breathe.  “You are…really bad at guitar.”

“Oh my god, were you this mean to your past assistants?” The question comes out with a giggle, as you set Suguru’s guitar down next to you, turning to face him.

He smirks, turning his body to face you as well. “Only the ones who are shit at guitar.”

“Oh, so you let all your assistants hang out in your dressing room and show them your instruments then?”

“Nope.”

If anything Suguru was way fucking meaner to his past assistants. In less than two hours, you already had him cleaning up his act.

You make a face, scrunching your nose up in Suguru’s direction and he decides he likes you already. Yeah, it’s only been a few hours, but he wants to see that face more often. The choice wasn’t up to him, though. You had to impress the other members, too. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help you along the way.

A light knock at the door interrupts Suguru’s thoughts.

“Yeah?” He calls and Jaz peers their head in, brows furrowing when they see you on Suguru’s couch.

“She was cleaning my guitar for me,” Suguru lies easily, motioning towards the instrument next to you. Jaz either believes him or doesn’t care because they don’t even acknowledge it any further.

“Showtime, let’s go.”

- - - - - -

Suguru had been nice enough to give you some tips on how to ensure the band was happy after the show.

“Nanami loves a good coffee and a book set up in his dressing room after a show,” he’d noted. “Satoru is easy. Leave him some of those little mochi candies with the red bean paste inside? He’ll eat like fourteen of them and pass out. Shoko literally just wants to be left alone after dealing with Satoru all day. Put a cigarette and a bottle of liquor – any kind – in her room and she’s set.”

“And you?” You asked, nervously fidgeting in the hall outside of Suguru’s dressing room. Suguru had kept your mind off of panicking and inadvertently pissing someone off on your very first day. With no delegated tasks, no orientation or training and no clue in hell about each member’s preferences, you were truly grateful to Suguru for all he'd done for you on your first day. He was your lifeboat today.

“Me?” It seemed he’d forgotten he was also a part of the band, which was even more endearing to you. He’d been more concerned with making sure you were successful today than his own needs.

“Yeah, you. I want to make sure everyone is satisfied.”

Suguru hummed a look flashing behind his eyes and disappearing as quickly as it came, it still sent a shiver up your spine all the same. He placed a hand on your arm, inhaling slowly. His eyes locked onto where his hand lay on your arm, like he could feel the way your stomach twisted, the way your breathing increased, how your pupils dilated just from his touch.

And Suguru could feel it. Because his body was reacting the exact same way.

“I’ll be fine,” he breathed, letting go of your arm. “Hopefully at the end of the night, Jaz will have good news for you.”

He turned to leave, but not before calling back, “I’ll see you after the show.”

Now you stand on the side of the stage, unable to stop staring at Suguru as his hands fly along the strings of his guitar with ease, beautiful notes carrying out of the instrument and dancing around the stadium for the audience to hear. You can’t get over the duality of this man. 

Backstage he’s chill, if not a little intimidating. But in the short time you’d spent together, you found it easy to talk to Suguru and open up to him. He was funny, smart, insanely talented. You did not expect a rockstar as big as he was to be so down to earth. 

Now as you watch Demon Parade perform their last song of the night, you can’t help but think Suguru is the sexiest man on earth. The way his hair whips across his face when he shakes his head to the music, how his large hands control every note that drives the song, how his rich voice blends smoothly with Satoru’s to really push the message of the songs across. And when Suguru’s really feeling it, the way he lets the world see the tiny metal ball sitting atop his tongue.

He is so insanely sexy.

It seems every little move he makes has the crowd losing their minds, men and women alike screaming his name. And you can’t blame them, occasionally rubbing your own thighs together to stoke the heat pooling between your own legs whenever Suguru would peer over to the side and grin at you mid song. 

Fuck, working with him may end up being harder than you anticipate. If you are able to keep this job, you’ll likely have to maintain a friendly distance. You don’t trust yourself not to do something stupid with the way your body seems to respond to him any time you’re near each other.

When the show is over, Satoru thanking the crowd for coming out, the band members all go their separate ways to their dressing rooms. You wait in the hall, standing with Jaz who again is on their phone. They seem to always be working, but this time you watch their fingers fly across their phone screen, a tiny smirk on their lips. You bite down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from smiling.

You’re pretty sure Jaz and Satoru are sleeping together.

You nearly jump out of your skin when Jaz clears their throat, their eyes boring into your own. Did they hear…your…thoughts?

And then they smile. “Just got the green light from the band. You’re in.”

Eyes wide, you stand there gaping like a fish until you finally find your words. “Just like that? I mean…there’s not a formal meeting or anything?”

Jaz shoots you a deadpan look, like you’re wasting their time with your stupid fucking question. “Look around you. Nothing about today was formal. Get used to it. Go home, pack your bags. I’ll email the details of where to meet us in the next couple days before we get on the road. Be on time please. Don’t miss the tour bus leaving.”

They turn on their heels before you can thank them, making their way down the hall (in the direction of Satoru’s dressing room, you can’t help but notice).

The clean up staff moves hurriedly around backstage, rushing off and on the stage. And you just stand there, the giddiness of the news bubbling in your chest. You want to scream about how happy you are, but you contain it, instead opting to go tell the person who helped you to lock in your spot today.

After a short trip down the winding halls of the arena, you knock softly on Suguru’s dressing room door. It doesn’t take him long to answer, the door swinging open and revealing him in a loose fitting tee and some sweats. His hair is damp from a shower, strands clinging to his face, cheeks flushed. You can practically feel the heat of his bath radiating off of him.

He’s as captivating off stage, like this, as he is on stage. You can’t help but stare.

“Hey,” he breathes, voice rough.

“Hey,” you practically sigh, cheeks heating furiously.

It’s just you two, standing there, staring at each other. The world continues to move, it all becoming a blur as you refuse to look away from the other. You, watching as the flush on Suguru’s cheeks slowly creeps from his face, down his neck and to the exposed part of his chest the ‘V’ in his shirt allows you to see. Him, watching as your chest rises and falls, breathes picking up rapidly as he gazes at you.

You’d never met anyone like Suguru Geto before. It seems so insane that just a few hours ago, you’d never seen or heard of this man in your life. Now in this moment, standing before him in front of his dressing room, it feels like he has a pull on you that you couldn’t resist if you tried.

“Just heard from Jaz. Looks like I’ll be going on the road with you,” you tell him, voice coming out smaller than you’d intended.

“Yeah?” His low voice is nothing but a whisper, eyes darting down to your lips quickly before they shoot back up to your eyes. 

“Yeah.”

Then his tattooed hand is cupping your face, your arms are looping around his neck, his mouth is colliding with yours as he pulls you into his dressing room, slamming the door behind him. It’s dizzying, the heat rolling off is his body, his scent invading your senses. The hand touching your face slips to the back of your neck, making you sigh into his mouth. It’s so fucking unfair how a move so simple had the power to make you melt into a puddle for him.

Suguru’s body molds against yours as he pushes you against the door of his dressing room, pressing his own arousal against your thigh. And you gasp, the thick feel of him making you moan.

“Fuck,” Suguru presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek, rolling his hips into you. “I don’t know what it is about you,” he groans, kissing along your cheek again, rolling his hips into yours once more.

You feel the same, like there’s something about him that keeps drawing you to him. The stars only seem to continue aligning in your favor. First getting this job, this trial run day, meeting Suguru, Suguru helping to make sure you got to keep your job and you actually getting the confirmation you needed. It’s like you were meant to meet one day. You’re eternally grateful.

You press a kiss to Suguru’s lips, your hands finding their way into his hair and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss, trying to taste everything you have to offer. You’re panting into his mouth as he rolls his hips into yours roughly. 

“I want you,” Suguru breathes against your lips. “I want you so fucking bad, I’m losing my mind.”

His mouth is back on yours, hands grasping at your waist, pulling you as close as he can. You want him too, you probably want him just as badly as he wants you. But there’s time for that. You’ll be on the road together for months. That’s surely enough time to have each other every which way you want. But tonight, you want to show Suguru how grateful you are to him.

“Let me thank you for today,” you offer Suguru breathlessly when you break the kiss. His brows knit together for a brief second before they rise at the same time you fall to your knees before him.

“Are you sure? You don’t have t–”

“I want to,” you assure him. Suguru gulps, nodding as he watches you wet your lips.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his sweats and briefs, you tug down, freeing Suguru’s erection and wasting no time wrapping your hands around his length. It’s just the way Suguru imagined when he watched you strumming his guitar. Better than he imagined, actually. He shivers when your hands grip him, your mouth watering with the thought of tasting him as you watch a drop of precum form on his tip.

He’s big. Bigger than you had pictured. You swallow, thinking about how in the hell you were going to be able to possibly fit all of him in your mouth.

“Take it slow, baby,” Suguru tells you, as though he can tell what you’re thinking. He brings a hand down to gently caress your cheek.

Peering up, your tongue peeks out of your mouth, tentatively flicking against the head and Suguru sighs shakily, staring intently. He watches you closely, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek as your lips fall open and you wrap them around his cock. You take him into your mouth, slowly sinking down as far as you can go before you pull off and sink down again.

Eyes locked, you watch with hardly concealed elation as Suguru’s pupils blow out, dilating so much you can no longer make out the color of his eyes. 

“Fuck,” Suguru’s hips buck forward like a reflex, head falling back as a deep groan falls from his lips. Your mouth is so warm, so fucking wet. He wants to revel in the feel of it. Doesn’t want you to suck him so good he blows his load down your throat yet. He looks back down at you, at the way your mouth is stuffed full of him and you’re not even halfway down. Suguru utters a curse under his breath. 

“Stay right there,” he tells you, rougher than he intended, he knows it. But it’s so fucking important that you don’t move right now or he’s done for. “Just hold it - ahhh, yeah just like that, angel.”

You place your hands against his thighs, holding yourself still with Suguru’s cock in your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue, the sound of his harsh breathing, his hands gently holding your chin, it all makes a delicious heat pool in your core.

Suguru takes a deep breath, pushes his hair back with his hands as he exhales. He’s trying to catch his breath, trying to keep his composure right now, but fuck. It’s so hard to hold it together with the way your mouth is stretched around him, with how he’s just barely halfway in and he can already see the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes as you try to take all of him.

Suguru’s had his fair share of flings come back to his dressing room with him, sure. But you… there’s something about you that has his heart thundering in his chest, has his cock throbbing within the wet confines of your mouth, has him reaching down to caress your cheek and wipe the pooling tears away as you try to take him deeper. Your eyes close with the action.

“Look at me,” he pants. And you do, your beautiful gaze finding his again. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” he purrs, loving the way you haven’t moved since he told you to stay. You’re already such a good girl for him. “Think you can take more?”

You mutter a muffled agreement against his cock, still not moving. Just the vibration makes Suguru’s balls tighten, a threat that he’s not going to last very long with you.

He hopes it won’t be like this the next time.

He also hopes there is a next time.

Because he’s beginning to realize something. It hasn’t been that long since he met you. Hell, it’s been less than a day. But, he’s so fucking into you it’s insane.

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes again and Suguru hisses the moment your eyes connect. He runs both hands through his hair, his thick black locks cascading around his face as he looks down at you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. You know that?”

You nod your head, tongue pressing against the underside of Suguru’s cock as you slide more of his length down your throat. You’re not going to be able to take all of him. He knows it.

You shift on the floor, thighs rubbing together to give you some sort of relief from the aching arousal between your legs. Suguru doesn’t miss this. You’ve worked hard. You deserve to enjoy yourself, too. It’s not like you got to keep your job only because of him after all.

“Touch yourself,” Suguru commands. “Play with that pretty pussy while you suck my co–” His voice cuts off, a harsh groan ripping from his throat when you move forward, one hand squeezing his cock as you try to take even more of him, the other slipping into the waistband of your pants. “So fucking good...” he whimpers, and you can’t help but moan when your fingers finally meet the onslaught of wetness that’s been rushing between your legs, absolutely soaking through your panties.

“Jesus,” he murmurs, petting your hair before gently fisting the strands between his tattooed fingers so that you’re forced to look up at him. “Ah…I love how hard you’re trying, baby. Think you can take it all the way for me, angel? Can you take it all the way into that tight fucking throat for me?” 

You nod enthusiastically, eager to please with a mouth full of Suguru’s cock and your fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. The vision has Suguru’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he sighs. Suguru pulls you forward, and you let him, going as far as you can until you’re gagging on his dick, the drool pooled in your mouth dripping from the corners of your mouth.

Even still, that doesn’t stop the moans escaping, the little mewls that let Suguru know you were fucking loving this as much as he was.

“Ah – fuck, fuck–” Suguru breathes, pulling you off of his cock with a loud pop. “I can’t,” he pants. “I can’t. If you do that again, I’ll cum –”

You didn’t wait for him to finish, taking Suguru in your mouth again, taking him as deep as you can go before pulling back and taking him in again. The lewd squelching noises of your slick fingers playing with your sweet little pussy and the mixture of your spit and Suguru’s precum hitting the floor of his dressing room fill the air. You take him to the hilt, your nose buried deep in his thick raven curls.

And Suguru’s hips began to move, fucking into your mouth as he held your head in place. This was what you wanted, right? Suguru warned you. He’d warned you what would happen if you swallowed his dick like that again, if you choked on his cock like you just did one more time. He warned you and you kept going, pushing him closer and closer. So he couldn’t help it when his body tensed, when his cock stiffened, when his thighs shook and his cock twitched in your mouth.

He couldn’t help it when he pulled out of you as quickly as he could, pumping his cock with a quick “fuck I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, baby–” muttered before his cum shot out of his swollen tip, covering your cheeks, your throat, your tongue and your chin.

And you couldn’t help it when you pushed two fingers into your tight hole, pressing your thumb to your clit the moment Suguru’s cum covers your face. And you see stars, clenching hard around your fingers as waves of your orgasm crashing over you until your vision nearly blurs.

“Shit,” Suguru murmurs with a sigh, the aftershocks of his orgasm sending shivers up his spine. He takes your arm, pulling your hand from your drenched panties, closely looking over the sheen of your release covering your fingers. He parts his lips, taking the digits into his mouth and sucking, licking your hand clean of your orgasm before he kisses you hard, shoving his tongue into your mouth immediately and groaning when he tastes the mixture of both your releases. He doesn’t even seem to care that his own cum now covers his face. The sexy grunts and moans tell you he loves it.

When he breaks the kiss, he looks you over, licking his lips of the mess he made between you. “Let me get a towel to clean us up.”

He stands, pulling his pants back up to his waist before he lifts you from your spot on the floor. You hear him shuffling around in the bathroom area as you take a seat on his couch. He returns shortly, sitting next to you. You close your eyes as he gently wipes the warm, damp towel over your face. “God, you almost killed me.” Suguru huffs quietly.

You chuckle, opening one eye to peer up at him. “Damn, am I that good?”

Suguru smiles, chuckling. “Let's just say, I’m not ever letting them fire you.”

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

#jjk x reader #getou suguru x y/n #jjk x y/n #anime x reader #anime smut #suguru geto fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #suguru x y/n #suguru smut #getou suguru x you #anime x you #anime x y/n #suguru getou x reader #getou x you #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #suguru x reader #suguru x you

[haunt3dh3art]

Heyoo! If requests are open then can i ask for jealous yandere ghost with an s/o. Man would shred the person like chedder cheese😭😭

im so sorry for getting to this so late! it got buried lol but omg i don’t even want to think about what ghost would do🤭🤭 anyways here you are!! female pronouns used throughout

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| Carved | Jealous!Yandere Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader

Synopsis: Ghost hears multiple rumours of you and an unknown recruit being seen on base together. He decides to act.

t/w's: death threats, graphic descriptions of violence, canon-typical behaviour, Ghost isn't really in the right headspace throughout the fic, obsessive and possessive behaviour throughout, FEMALE pronouns used, male lover, very brief reference to menstrual cycle, stalking, lil mention of sex, Ghost flat out refuses to call your lover by his name, calls him "it" most of the time lol

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Soap made a thoughtless joke at mess a few weeks ago about you and your new "boy toy" that made Ghost freeze at the table.

"She's a good lass, but working out her "play" muscles, wouldn't ya say, Gaz?" The Scotsman laughed, playfully nudging his friend's shoulder.

Gaz snickered while Soap had to clutch his belly. Price gave a disapproving look to the lads.

"Give it up, boys, leave her alone."

Soap looked at the Captain with an innocent look on his face. "Oh, c'mon! I was messing wi'ya!"

Price shook his head.

Meanwhile, next to him, Ghost went rigid. He had been keeping an eye on you for a while. How could he miss something as important as this?

Ghost's blood relentlessly pumped to his head, making him feel like it was going to implode. The world had started to turn upside down.

The soldier cursed himself for being so ignorant. He had your schedule committed to memory, your address back home, phone number, your family members and even was starting to learn the timings of your menstrual cycle, but he hadn't noticed a potential lover. It's the most significant things he had a fucking blind spot for.

Holding his plate, Ghost rose from the dinner bench.

"Where ya goin', Ghost? Ya barely touched your scran!" Soap called out after him.

Ghost waved him off, scraped his food into the bin and put his plate on a cleaning rack. He left the mess hall with a dark cloud swarming around him.

---

Ghost wasn't seen for hours.

He had infiltrated your room and stolen your laptop without you realising. He already knew your password and logged in.

Pictures upon pictures of you and this intruder were plastered all over the device and a photo of you two together was the wallpaper. Ghost felt sick to his stomach and could feel his throat start to burn. He stormed through every photo in your gallery, read all of your messages and even saw some.. photos that made his cock stir.

You made a different kind of heat rise to his belly every time he saw you, but actually seeing some of your bare body instead of imagining it made his hands shake a little. To feel his body against yours, his hands around your perfect tits, just the slightest graze of his teeth against your neck..

Soon. Not soon enough, though.

---

The next time he saw you, you were in the on-site gym, running on a treadmill with your new.. thing.

Ghost hadn't learnt it's name, knowing it wasn't going to be around for much longer.

He decided to lift weights for his session and stayed in the gym until you both left. When you walked past the silently raging solider, you smiled and waved.

Ghost felt himself become Simon for a brief moment, letting his heart feel like an inferno in his chest as you acknowledged him. He knew such a small amount of attention from you was pathetic to react so intensely too, but he couldn't stop himself.

When you finally both left, Ghost flipped like a switch and turned back to the cold-hearted bastard he was used to being.

He let you get ahead for a bit and then left the gym with a towel over his shoulder. He'd brewed up a plan while lifting that was guaranteed to get the creature out of the picture and move you closer to his arms.

As soon as nightfall came, Ghost shed every innate trace of his human nature and embraced the waging inferno inside him.

---

Ghost went to dinner the next day as usual.

The boys exchanged banter and swapped stories as they always did. Ghost ate everything off his plate to avoid suspicion and cleaned up after himself. Then, he walked over to where your partner was sat.

You weren't there by some grace of the gods and Ghost said a silent prayer.

The soldier was well aware how threatening he looked sometimes, but he lived up to his name. Ghost blended into the crowd effortlessly, and cleared his throat when he got to the table.

Your partner turned around and flinched, making Ghost supress a snide chuckle. The man had to raise his eyes to meet Ghost's and scoffed.

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk. Outside," Ghost gestured with his head, keeping his voice low.

The man laughed, rising from his seat. His friends started to laugh and made sounds like they were teenagers. "Fine, let's go."

Ghost led the unsuspecting soldier out of the canteen and down the hallway to a hidden cargo bay. He knew no one would be here and once the soldier had walked into the room, Ghost locked the door.

He slowly turned around, cracking his knuckles.

"Look," The guy said as he raised his hands. "I'm sure we can work this out, whatever it is."

Ghost took a step forward and it took a step back.

"Say a fucking prayer while I'm giving you the chance."

Ghost didn't give him a chance to say anything more; he didn't want to hear another sound but screaming and the flat packing sound of flesh hitting flesh.

The first punch Ghost threw made a sickening crack against the other soldier's jaw. One tooth was already on the floor, and Ghost planned for many more to fall out.

Ghost had the soldier on the floor within seconds, relentlessly smashing his fist into your lover's face, not stopping as he began to choke on blood.

Even through all of the animalistic violence, Ghost could saw flashes of your gentle, soft face in front of his eyes. You smiled sweetly in the haze.

The images only made him punch harder.

For you. You..

"For Y/N.. Y/N.."

He muttered your name under his breath constantly like a madman, like you were his lifeline, his call to arms. At his beck and call. You only needed to say the word and he would gladly do this over and over and over again for you, to anyone, for any reason.

The soldier gripped his arms onto Ghost's with a vice grip, leaving raw, bruising fingerprint marks behind. It would be the last trace of your lover and it would never be seen.

Ghost didn't stop punching even when his opponent was dead. He lay limp on the floor, but darker shades of red kept on creeping around the edges of Ghost's vision, spurring him on.

---

Ghost returned to the canteen hall with a fresh set of clothes on, but a distant look in his eye. As he sat down at his table, he saw you looking for your lover.

Eventually, you gave up and sat down.

He went on to visit you later that night.

---

Ghost knocked your door lightly, a foreign touch when compared to earlier.

You opened the door in a long t-shirt, obviously about to go to bed. "Ghost.." You started, but yawned. "Sorry, what's up?"

Ghost shed his skin, slowly becoming Simon once again.

"I know you're worried about your.. partner, but I promise you that it will work out. If you need me.."

Nodding, you leant against your doorframe. "I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere. Thank you for looking out for me, though."

You smiled and Simon felt his heart beat faster. "If you don't want to sleep on your own tonight, I'll sleep on the floor."

A stupid, stupid fucking offer. Who says that?

"I'd like that, actually. But I've got a chair you can sleep on, would be better than the floor for your back, I think."

Simon felt like he was floating as he walked into your room. It's not like it was his first time, but it was his first time with permission.

He shut the door silently behind him and watched as you fished a second pillow and blanket out of your wardrobe. "I brought these from home," You said proudly. "The chair I stole from the library, that's why it's got cushions. Soap helped me with the heist in the middle of the night."

Simon chuckled, taking the pillow from you. You started laughing too and he watched creases appear in the edges of your eyes. It was nice to see you forget about..

He shook his head and moved closer to you, touching your arm with his free hand.

"Y/N.."

You looked into his eyes, hypnotised. "Mm?"

Simon held on to your arm a little tighter and pulled you towards him. He threw the pillow onto your bed and leaned down by your ear.

"You have no idea about the things I would do for you, have done for you, even."

His voice went impossibly low and sent a shiver down your spine. The hairs on your arms stood up on end.

"You don't have a fucking clue of the things I have done to get this close to you."

Simon raised his mask with one hand and kissed the shell of your ear.

He spoke with deliberate precision and slowly, to burn his words onto your pretty head. He hoped you would never forget them.

"I am.. captured by you. The way you walk," He softly bit your ear and kissed over the mark it would leave. "The way you talk, the way you look, at me, especially."

He chuckled lowly, the sound reverberating through your soul.

"I am yours, and you are mine."

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#cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #yandere simon riley x reader #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #cod mw ghost #cod x reader #cod x you #yandere ghost #yandere #cod

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Bro, infinite darkness Leon is plaguing my mind I’m being so fr rn. So my req is like DomInfiniteDarkness!Leon and like this reader who rlly sarcastic and bites back and shit like that and the plot is (porn 🫶 obvi) that he asks reader to ride his face (after a few days of sexual tension) and like she’s taken aback at first but then she’s like ‘he’s hot tho’ (not rlly I can’t think of a better response, u can choose) so she rides his face yeah, and he has this grip on her thighs that she can’t even try squirming away

And omg, there should be like this one part when he’s eating her and like she grips his hair and he goes feral and sucks harshly as a motion to continue the grip on his hair, also the stubble that he has should like graze her poussay and like she clenches bc of it and Leon notices 😮‍💨🤭🤭

Leon just gives pussy-eater vibes, is it jus me? 😭 anyways in not asking this anonymously bc I need this shit so bad

If u wrote anything similar, I’m sorry 😭 😭

Tyyyy ♥️♥️♥️🫶🫶🫶🫶

( I had to, he’s so fine)

ID Leon is a plague in my mind he never goes away. I was actually writing a request super similar to this so i hope the other person who requested this sees this!! I honestly don’t think it’s that good but i try my hardest FOR YOU GUYS. I made the reader plus size deal with it and if you hate it so much just block it out with your mind okay because i needed to write a lil something for me in this one. Sorry i haven’t been posting much writing i hit little blocks sometimes and feel like my writing sucks but nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix!

Disclaimer!!! This blog is 18+ only! If you are underaged please don’t interact with my posts thank you!!

mentions of afab slighty plus size reader x ID Leon!!

Warnings: Angsty kinda! Mentions of yelling, holding guns and close to death experiences. Leon forces reader to sit on his face, he’s kinda rough with her

word count: 2,826

Heavy. Your arm hanging from the metal that had been broken not even seconds before. Though you and Leon had far to many disagreements he was still your partner. Just the way his head tilted up and his hand gripped at your wrist you knew he was so angry that you would throw yourself so close to death just to save him. The metal beneath you made a loud creaking noise as you gripped at Leon's hand, your other arm folding over to pull him up onto the platform with you.

“You have a death wish?”

Leon yelled as he tried to carefully crawl up next to you as you let go of his arm. You leaned back on your arms, catching your breath, your eyes followed Leon standing up, his hand reaching down to help you off the floor.

“That must’ve really bruised your ego huh, kennedy.”

Mascara caked a bit under your eyes due to all the running and the tank of water exploding all over you. Your hips swayed side to side as you put your hand up waving goodbye to Leon, yelling something about how you’d see him next week.

——-

Leon’s jaw tightened watching your hips sway, the way your soaked shirt clung to your body. You were his rookie once, he trained you from the ground up. Once your promotion hit you never let Leon talk down to you again, and he hated it. Snarky comments about his aim, about the way he talks, how he looks in his suits.

His body screamed at him for relief, preferably whiskey. The bar was quiet and he couldn’t help but thank the god he didn’t necessarily believe in. His fingers traced over the rim of his glass in front of him. The man had too much trauma, a troubling past and current that just weighed on him so heavily that it made everything he does difficult.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Your silky voice snapped him from his day dreaming, his chin tilting down as his eyes traced every dip and curve of your body before he brought the glass to his lips, the liquid stinging his throat as he tilted the glass against his mouth. You wore that pretty black dress you had been wearing back in Grahamas office, but of course you had to change when actual shit started to go down. It hugs your hips and thighs so good, your plush legs crossing over each other as you sat down staring at your partner.

“You okay?”

For once you seemed genuinely concerned for him, Leon’s head nodding as the bartender poured more whiskey into his glass. Your delicate hand reaching forward and pulling the glass from him. Leon sighed turning himself to you in full, his hands reaching down to unbutton his jacket that held it to his center.

“What.”

A smirk quickly grew on your lips as you took HIS whiskey down your throat, your nose scrunching as you pushed the glass back to him. He was so tired of your bratty demeanor, it’s so unprofessional, so unclassy. Your hands reached out to fix the collar of his white button down as you still processed the burn of the alcohol.

“I worry about you sometimes.. Anyways, I was looking for you then Claire told me you were rambling about desperately needing a drink.”

Leon couldn’t help but admire the way your hands moved when you spoke, your eyes rolling at the mention of his small drinking problem.

“Drinking everyday is bad for your liver Leon.”

Leon groaned at your lecturing, his hands coming up to shush you.

“Fuck you..”

He grumbled, causing your mouth to drop open. Honestly you were offended. For once you were really concerned about the man which was rare from either of you because if you weren’t working, you were fighting.

“You’d like that too much, old man.”

———-

“Cmon Le.. Let's just have one more drink.”

Leon’s hands held at your waist as you stumbled into him. So while you lectured him for drinking so much you downed shots one after another right in front of him. Leon watched you ramble all night, the night he was supposed to spend for himself. After he pulled the both of you outside, you shivered pointing to your car, you hand grabbing for your keys in your purse.

“Okay bye Leon.”

You slurred as a whistle left Leon’s lips, his much taller frame coming in front of you to catch you yet again. Your hands nudged at him, trying to push him off you as you whined about it being cold and how you wanted to lay down. His hands worked at his jacket, shrugging it off and reaching for your arms and slipping it onto you.

“Stop talking and walk, let’s go, you're not driving.”

You were an idiot. Leon’s head shook in disappointment as the two of you began your walk down the street in silence. Even through your drunken fog you could see he was upset with you, your hands playing with the long sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket. He did have his moments where he got genuinely upset with you, like when you had accidentally stabbed him during training, or when you stepped in front of him and Chris during a mission to take the damage of a blown hit. You didn’t belong in this field and he had no idea how you even made it this far. He reached into his back pocket pulling his keys out before he pushed open the door, turning himself back to you.

“Inside.”

His palm rested against your lower back as you stepped inside his home, your eyes adjusting to the lighting change. Leon pulled the jacket off of you and threw it on his couch before he leaned on the counter staring at you. Standing in the middle of his living room. His annoyance was making you sober, playing with your fingernails as he glared at you. His back turned to you as he pulled a glass from his cabinet, turning on his faucet to pour water into it. You flinched as he slammed it in front of you.

“Drink.”

A laugh left your lips as you reached for the glass, taking a sip. But Leon didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did, his hands resting on the beautiful marble counter.

“Lots of one word responses tonight huh.”

You asked as you finished off the glass of water, your hand rubbing your stomach. He was in his own world, it was shocking he cared as much as he did.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Leon mumbled as he pulled the glass into his sink, pointing to the blankets on the couch. Watching his figure walk down the hall made your skin crawl. You wanted to tell him how scared you were today, how you almost lost him. How he didn’t notice the bruise on your right shoulder from almost breaking your shoulder saving him.

————

A loud thump of a pillow hitting your face shook you from your sleep, your hand reaching for your gun as you sat up.

“Oh calm down. Let’s go Grahams called.”

Leon spoke as he handed you your shoes. You yawned, pushing your heels on before running out the door after him. It’s your favorite time of day, even though you have a violent hangover and it feels like you are going to puke with every step you take trying to catch up to Leon. Out of breath finally walking beside him you push your neck forward, nodding with that stupid smug look on your face that Leon hated.

“You clean up really nice Leon, what straightener do you use?”

How could you be so bitchy at eight in the morning, Leon’s eyes rolled, his lips pressed together as he got into his car, you not falling too short behind. Out of all the people in the department he didn’t understand how he ended up with you as his partner.

——-

“What?”

Leon stood next to you, him and the president sharing a glance as he sighed.

“Listen, Leon told me what happened yesterday and we decided collectively it would be best for you to go work for another agency.”

Your jaw grew tight, it felt like your teeth were being grinded down and your cheeks were flushed a deep red in anger. Your head snapped to Leon, your eyes squinting at him. How could he file a complaint about you saving his life? He is lying directly to the source but you had no proof he was lying which is what made the situation so much worse.

“Fuck you.”

Your words smacked Leon in the face, your body purposely shoving into his shoulder- and hard too. The sound of your heels clicking filled the hallway, your anger building in your chest as you stormed out the back door. This was your life purpose, being an agent. When your younger brother had died at the hands of Umbrella you tried working your way up to demolish it all. None of it mattered anyways because when you met Leon and Chris your life had completely changed. Even though you and Leon had too many unsolvable problems, you thought he still cared? Now you were left jobless, clueless. You looked down at your phone as it buzzed in your purse ‘Leon’ Flashing on the screen.

Stupid son a bitch.

————

Loud banging on your door woke you up, your eyes fixing on the clock on your nightstand. Three in the morning? Sitting up quickly you pulled your handgun from your dresser, tip toeing into the living room area of your flat.

“Who is it? I have a gun!”

When not at work your self defense skills were beyond poor, the banging stopped, the sounds of shuffling were heard before a small thud was heard against your door. Peering into the small eyehole of your door, there stood Leon. His eyes squeezed shut as he rested his palm against your door, you immediately swung the door open causing Leon to fix at his posture.

“Jesus christ Leon, what the fuck?”

Leon’s body pushed into your flat, slamming the door behind him. His hands grabbed at the gun in your hand, laying it on your counter. Your lower back smacked against your couch as he towered over you, his hands reaching down to hold at your face before his lips smacked into yours. No alcohol? Leons teeth nipped at your lip, pulling a low moan from you before you put your hands out pushing him away from you

“What are you doing?”

Leon’s chest heaved as he stared at you, you still looked so sleepy, your pretty nightgown resting so beautifully on your thighs. Your hair was a mess and now your lips were all puffy, he couldn’t fucking stand you. Leon’s hand ruffled through his hair as he looked down the hall to your room, your bed sheets a mess. Leon’s hand gripped your upper arm, walking down the hallway with you in his hands.

“Leon! Stop! Look at me”

Pretending you didn’t like the way he touched you was a joke, and you knew Leon could tell just by the way you reacted to his touch. A whine spilled from your lips as he shoved you down onto your silk sheets, your fingers reaching down to fix your nightgown that had flown up. The sound of Leon’s knees hitting the floor echoed through your ears, your upper body lifting as you watched him lick at his chapped lips. His head shook at the sight of your glistening folds in front of him, your thighs squeezing together as you stared down at the man. Stammers of protest left your lips as Leon’s fingers dug into the flesh of your meaty thighs, of course he was strong but you didn’t know he was this strong. A deep groan emitted from his chest as he lifted his hand, his tongue running across his fingers. His eyes finally met yours, his fingers slick with his spit rubbing small circles on your clit.

“Not so much to say now, huh?”

Oh. Your heart dropped as you remembered the paperwork you had sent in placing a complaint for him. Talking about how unprofessional he was, how he drinks on the job, and stuff about his personal life in general, your lips shook as your mouth opened, a moan ripping from your throat as Leon's thick fingers pushed into you, your hand reached down grabbing at his wrist but he pushed it off to side as he rose his way up your much smaller body. His other hand gripped at the inner part of your knee, locking it beside him as he pushed his fingers into you.

“God you piss me off, Grahams was so mad at me you know? But unlike you I didn't lose my job. You had me with your little comments but I swear if you try something like this again, I will do more than fuck you stupid, Do you understand me?”

When did Leon get the capability to be so fucking mean? Your head nodded up at him, his fingers drawing from you. Leon’s head shook in disapproval as he pushed himself off you, laying down on his back.

“Sit.”

Great. Back with the one word responses. You sat up confused as your hand reached down to cover your exposed self. Your gaze shifted to Leon who looked so pretty sprawled out onto your black silk sheets. His pupils were blown with lust.

“Sit?”

Laughter came with the question as Leon tilted his head to the side to admire you tilting your head back as you laughed at yourself. His hands tugged you towards him, making you lose your balance. “fucking brat.” He mumbled as he dragged you onto of him, your body sitting on his chest.

“Sit on my face. I know you’re not stupid.”

Leon spoke up to you as he pulled your hips towards his face but you pushing yourself back made his eyebrows raise.

“Leon, I'm going to kill you..”

You sat up slightly trying to take more weight off his chest. You weren’t the skinniest but Leon knew that you were always a bit self conscious about your weight, and the amount of times he has caught you has been extremely surprising. One look down at him changed your mind, he was looking at you as if you were the only person in the word, his tongue continuously licking over his lips, you let out a shaky breath before you brought yourself forward grabbing at the headboard. Hovering over his face still too scared but Leon’s hands reached up, pushing you down onto his face.

“Leon!- oh-”

Screams of worry turned into soft cries of pleasure, Leon’s hands reaching back to cup at your ass in his hands, somehow pushing you further into him. Your eyes finally fluttered open, staring down at Leon who seemed to be enjoying much more than he should. Never did you imagine Leon’s face so deep into you, your thighs pushing against his cheeks, the scruff on his face scraping your soft skin. His eyes opened hazily, staring up at you as he pushed his tongue into you, his hands still rocking you into him.

“Leon wait!-”

You cried out as a boiling burn started to build in your stomach, your body going to crawl off of him. Leon’s arms wrap around your thighs before you’re flipped over, his thighs laying over his shoulder as he laps at your folds on long strokes. Your hands reach down, grabbing at his soft hair. Leon moans out, vibrating your entire body as he uses his fingers to hold your folds open. He’s sucking at your clit so fucking good, your hands trying to push him away as he hold you’re hips down. He could have this view forever, the way you’re crying for him and the way you taste so good in his mouth. The amount of times Leon has wanted to force you down and suck on your pretty little clit was too many to count on his hand.

“Fuck!”

Your scream could probably be heard from all the flats around you as your orgasm flashed through your body, causing tears to drip from your eyes. A cry left your throat as Leon sat up, his fingers gently rubbing small heart shapes on your clit with a big smile on his face. He looked so beautiful, your slick covering his chin and his lips swollen from sucking at your folds for so long.

“Le.. s’ too much.”

Leon shook his head as he leaned down, sloppily pressing kissing on your lips, your own taste filling your mouth before you screamed out at the feeling of Leon once again pushing his long fingers into you.

“Jus’ give me five more of those pretty.. I'm enjoying this too much.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon infinite darkness #ID leon #LEON EATS PUSSY YUP

[milfsloverblog]

Stood Up (Part 3) (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: This took me so long to write, I reaaaally wanted to write the angst (beware) but then got stuck at the smutty part (which is why it isn’t as detailed). I hope you’ll enjoy reading this chapter as much as the previous ones! Lil reminder that my requests are open and I’ll happily write for any of Gwen’s characters <3

~1,8k

Saying you had fallen for Larissa would be an understatement. In a couple of weeks the tall woman had insidiously made her way inside your brain and inside your heart. She was usually your first thought in the morning when your eyes fluttered open, and your very last at night when you went to bed and moaned her name, your hand buried between your thighs under the bedsheets.

You hadn’t dared use her phone number yet. She’d said to use it wisely and you weren’t sure that calling or texting her every time you wanted to would make her very happy. You knew she was a busy woman, probably working until late at night only to wake up early in the mornings, and the last thing you wanted was to bother her.

A couple of times you had thought about sending her flowers, you even had the perfect bouquet in mind. Some black pearl amaryllis paired with baby’s breath and eucalyptus. Love and passion, new beginnings, protection. The perfect bouquet. But you had no idea which school to send it to and even if you had, you still weren’t sure that sending flowers to a woman you were having casual sex with was a good idea.

————

You sighed as you flipped the sign on your shop window, staring at the word “closed” written in bold letters while you locked the door. Thursdays were always slow and you had only made a few sales that day. You hated Thursdays more than Mondays, but at least you had Fridays to look forward to. Even more now that you knew Larissa.

“Lydia!” You called as you walked past Ellen’s and noticed your friend taking her cigarette break outside the restaurant.

The girl stubbed out her cigarette and waved as you approached her, pushing an awkward smile.

“Are you alright ?” You asked with a soft chuckle, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“No, no I’m fine! It’s just…It’s so rare to see you on Thursdays!” Lydia laughed uncomfortably and rubbed the back of her neck.

You were about to answer when you noticed it, the silver hair through the restaurant window. You couldn’t believe your luck.

“Larissa!” You whispered, watching the woman for a few seconds before moving to walk inside the restaurant.

“No, no wait-“ Lydia tried to hold you back but it was too late, you had already pushed the door open and taken a few steps towards Larissa’s table.

That’s when you finally realised that another woman was sitting across from Larissa. A redhead with big glasses who looked around Larissa’s age.

The tall woman leaned in a little, telling her companion something that made her laugh loudly. Larissa smiled, looking proud of herself and you watched as the redhead put her hand on the blonde’s one on the table.

Oh. Oh. It suddenly dawned on you that you were witnessing a date.

You took a step back and accidentally bumped into Lydia who dropped the empty plates that she had been carrying. Immediately the whole restaurant turned to look at the two of you, including Larissa and her companion.

You kneeled at the same time as Lydia did to pick up the broken pieces of glass, your back turned to Larissa.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Lydia whispered, glancing at the tall woman still sitting down in her booth. “I tried to tell you, I…I’ll spit in their food if that makes you feel better.”

You looked at your friend, eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill, and shook your head.

“That won’t be necessary.” You managed to say, “We’re not together. She’s free to see whoever she wishes to see.”

With that you got back on your feet and took a deep breath, turning around to look at Larissa who immediately pulled her hand away from the redhead’s. She opened her mouth to speak but you didn’t care enough to listen, instead choosing to get out of the restaurant as quickly as you could.

As soon as the building was out of sight you burst into loud sobs, letting the tears run freely down your cheeks. And it was silly, you knew that. Larissa didn’t owe you anything, she wasn’t yours and you weren’t hers. You weren’t even mad at her, you were mad at yourself for allowing this to happen.

Of course, she would want to date someone more like her. Someone her age, someone who did more in life than owning a flower shop. You knew that you were different from Larissa in almost every aspect but somehow you had hoped that maybe…

Fuck, it hurt. Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you realised that you had fallen in love with a woman who probably saw you as a mere distraction. And you could never be mad at her, because it was all your fault.

——————

The next few days were hell. Every time you closed your eyes you’d see images of Larissa and that redhead woman and it made you sick to your stomach. So much so that you skipped dining at Ellen’s that Friday.

You resented every single person that came into your shop to buy flowers for their partner, your teeth grinding each time someone mentioned their loved one.

“Your partner is lucky, I bet they get showered in flowers a lot.” The tall man standing on the other side of your counter said.

You looked up at him and his beige coat, and then back down at the bouquet of stargazer lilies he had bought. He had been here twice this week already. Yesterday he had gotten a dozen of white tulips and you couldn’t help but wonder if the man knew what these flowers meant.

I’m sorry, the tulips said. I miss you, the lilies added.

“I don’t have a partner.” You simply answered as politely as you could. “I’ll be back in a second, I need to get some organza.”

You walked to the back of your shop, shuffling through your organza rolls to find one that would match the bouquet.

“Ha!” You smiled victoriously and made your way back to the front of the shop, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw Larissa standing where the man had been just a couple of minutes earlier.

Your eyes quickly scanned around the shop, the man was gone. It made no sense, because if he had left and Larissa had walked in, the bell over the door would have rung twice, and it didn’t ring at all.

“I waited for you on Friday night,” Larissa’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, “But you never came.”

You bit back a snarky remark and walked to the counter where the lilies were still waiting to be wrapped.

“I didn’t feel like going to Ellen’s.” You answered, keeping your eyes down as you cut the organza.

“You haven’t called, or texted.” She said, making you shake your head a little.

“Yes, well, I know you’re a busy woman. Didn’t want to bother you.” You shrugged, still not looking at her.

“You’re right, I am a busy woman. But I would have made time for you.” Larissa took a step closer and you put the scissors down, taking a deep breath before looking up at her face.

“I don’t think we should see each other again.” You said as straightforwardly as you could, watching how Larissa’s mouth dropped slightly open as she processed your words.

“Why?” It came out of the older woman’s mouth as a whisper.

Because I’m in love with you but you aren’t in love with me, you wanted to say.

“Because it wouldn’t be right to that redhead woman I saw you with last week.” You shrugged and went back to wrapping the bouquet.

There was a moment of silence before Larissa suddenly started laughing, and it made the anger bubble in your body.

“Yeah, it’s so funny, isn’t it? So, so funny.” You said through gritted teeth. “I really hope it made you feel good about yourself, me fucking you and you fucking me. I know I’m not good enough to be with someone like you, hell you probably wouldn’t even look at me if I walked past you down the street. But, fuck, it hurts. It hurts to know that if I had been a little more like that redhead, maybe you would have wanted me. Really wanted me, like I want you.”

Larissa had stopped laughing then, her blue eyes wide as she listened to your rant. She frowned because she thought she’d understood what you were implying but it couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly be in love with her.

“Marilyn, the redhead, is my employee.” She eventually said after a few seconds. “And she is the closest thing I have to a friend. I don’t know what you think you saw that night at Ellen’s, but it wasn’t a date. We do like and respect each other, but it’s nothing like that.”

You just stood there quietly, realising you had been even more stupid than you’d thought. You wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“You fell in love with me…” Larissa said barely audibly and you shrugged, fidgeting with the lilies in your hands.

The cat was out of the bag now, it would be useless to deny your feelings after your clear display of jealousy.

“Yes, I did. Can you really blame me though? You’re everything anyone could wish for.” You eventually said, daring to look up at the tall woman.

Larissa leaned on the counter, her face stopping only a few inches from yours.

“Tell me again how we shouldn’t be seeing each other.” She whispered, her eyes dropping to your lips.

What happened next happened so quickly, you barely had time to register it. You closed the gap between Larissa’s lips and yours, her hand immediately grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer.

She walked around the counter and lifted you as if you weighed no more than a feather, only to take you to the back of the shop and lay you down on the workbench where you prepped the flowers each morning.

You could smell the roses and carnations that surrounded you when Larissa kneeled between your now naked legs, a couple of thorns dug into your back but you could not have cared less.

“Have me, please!” You begged, aching to feel the woman’s touch on your skin again.

How special it was, you thought as you looked down into Larissa’s eyes and she looked up into yours, to have a goddess kneeled between her worshiper’s thighs, her mouth and chin slicked with their arousal.

You knew you wouldn’t last long when the coil in your tummy tightened dangerously, threatening to snap at any second.

When you came moaning Larissa’s name, the woman’s heart swelled in her chest. You loved her. Someone loved her. She was loved, finally.

“I love you too.” Larissa whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, placing a soft kiss on your panting lips.

She loved you.

Thank god. Thank god for the imbecile who had stood her up.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems

[heejayy]

Eren Y. || Why we should have a baby…

Warning • mentions sex? Unexpected pregnancy,

Genres • crack, lil angst, fluff

Pairing • Eren Yeager x black fem! reader

Wc: 732

“Ok boom here’s why we should have a baby” you exclaimed turning on your tv to show the PowerPoint you made. You extended your pointer pointing to the title screen with a wide grin on your lips.

“What is this y/n?” Eren asked looking unimpressed. For the past two weeks, you’ve had a severe case of baby fever. Everywhere you go know you can’t help but see a baby and then you proceed to bug Eren to put one in you.

“Since begging you won’t work I’ll show you the pros and cons of having a baby. And we’ll see which one outways the other” you smiled clicking the next button on the computer so he could see it on the TV.

“We’ll start with the pros” you smiled “as you know I’ve always said I wanted a kid and maybe even more than one. I love kids- well sometimes but they can be really great. Also, they’re adorable! With their chubby cheeks and cute little feet and noses and eeekk,” you squealed at the thought of having one of your own.

“Ahem” Eren coughed trying to bring your attention back to him. “This isn’t very convincing sweetie” you sighed clicking the next slide which had ‘Money’ typed in bold green letters.

“Ok now I’m listening” he smirked sitting up from his man-spreading position, you just rolled your eyes. “Money is a big issue when having children but! We both come from pretty well-rounded family’s who would die to have a new baby to spoil, I mean the last baby my family had was me and I’m pushing 30!”

“Babe you’re 24” Eren deadpanned as he corrected you, “same thing” you shrugged waving him off.

“Anyways back to the point, they would spoil them rotten! And give us” you said pointing between you and him “everything we need to take care of them plus more, even your mom said she’s ready for us to have children.”

“Y/n my mom wanted you to have my baby the day she met you” you snorted. “She loved you before you spoke two words to her” he chuckled reminiscing on the time he brought you to meet his parents.

“Ok ok, next slide” you said pressing the next button which was tilted ‘A loving family ’ with a heart next to it. “As you know my mom and dad got divorced when I was young, I stayed with my mom but she was never around much due to work and when she was she was just pestering me about how much of a failure I am compared to her or my siblings” Eren’a face fell, he was well aware you didn’t have a good relationship with your mom which made him quite sad.

“My dad, on the other hand, he is great and I love him but he left and made a new family- what I’m trying to say is…maybe the only reason I want a baby is to build something I never had which was a loving close family. I want to make our baby feel the love I wish I received. I want to love them gently not neglect them and say it’s tough love.” Eren got up from the couch and walked over to you.

“Awe baby come here” he brought you in for a tight hug and kissed your head. He rocked you back and forth letting you cry silently in his arms.

“Are you trying to guilt trip me into giving you a baby?” He asked jokingly. You chuckled pulling away wiping your tears.

“No I would never do that!” you sniffled “I know I’ve been annoying the last few days I just didn’t know how to tell you I was ready to take the next step in our relationship.” He nodded wiping your cheeks.

“Alright let’s compromise” he took your hand guiding you to the couch “let’s say in the next 6 months if you still wanna have a baby we will, it’ll be an anniversary gift” he joked making you to laugh again.

“Alright deal” You said shaking his hand. You sat in his lap as he held you kissing your cheek and forehead repeatedly.

“Oh and by the way…I’m pregnant” you blurted out as you got up running to the bedroom.

“What- HUH?!”

AOT Masterlist

©heejayy 2022 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission.

#aot modern au #aot scenarios #eren yeager x black reader #x black reader #heejayy #eren yaeger x reader #aot x you #aot x black reader #aot fluff #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager imagines #connie springer fluff #jean kirschstein x black reader #reiner x black reader #hange x you #levi x fem!reader #eren angst #aot masterlist

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Periphery

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: This accidental behemoth is based on this post and part of the lil fic triptych with The Worst Best Man (Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader) @tropes-and-tales Team Prime (Bob Floyd x Reader)

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n. Also not beta-read. Because it never is.

Length: 11.1K

Warnings: Slowburn (i know, shocker); angst (I know, shocker); fluff; happy ending!!

Summary: You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy. 

“Alright, what have we got, what have we gooooot…” Bradley asked, turning the steering wheel and guiding the Bronco onto the avenue. 

“Let’s see,” You looked down your checklist. “Candy and labels for the favor bags?” 

“Check.” 

“Final payment for the florist.” 

“Check.” 

“Final payment for the cake.” 

“Check.” 

“Drop off the…Card-thingies for the seating placement at the venue.” 

“Place cards?” Bradley chuckled. 

“You knew what I meant. Only thing left is putting the favor bags together and we are set.” 

“Hell yeah. Up top.” 

You glanced over, smile widening when you spotted Bradley holding his hand up. You gave him a high five, chuckling as he crowed, “Boom! Dream team right here.” 

You leaned back in your seat, shifting a little bit. Bradley was certainly the easiest person you’d had to work with over the course of this wedding—bride and groom included. You’d met him a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy. 

“Oh—Shit,” Bradley muttered. 

“What is it?” You frowned. 

“No, nothing. I need to grab my tux,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Just remembered.” 

“Oh,” You frowned, glancing back as he drove past the shop. “Do you wanna go now?” 

“Uh…You sure?” He asked, raising his brows. 

“Yeah! The rest of my day’s clear, I don’t mind.” 

“You are a lifesaver,” Bradley swore, pulling his car into a parking spot. You waved him off, setting the checklist on the backseat of the car. 

“Hang on,” He warned. You frowned, shaking your head, then smiled as he rounded the front of the car, opening the door for you. 

“You’re such a gentleman, Bradshaw,” You teased. 

“I try.” 

He held the door open for you at the shop, too, and you tried not to get too flustered about it. But Bradley really was a gentleman. He’d shown you that repeatedly over the course of wedding prep, checking in periodically to see if you needed help with anything, or just to chat. 

He gave his name at the desk, nodding and offering his thanks as the attendant left to get his suit. 

“You get your dress yet?” He asked. 

“Yep. Picked it up earlier in the week.” 

“You are on it. I don’t know how you do it.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the bubble of flattery rising in your gut. “This isn’t my first wedding.” 

“How many times have you been a Maid of Honor?” 

“This is the…fourth time?” 

“Holy hell.” 

“I kinda like it,” You chuckled. “It was stressful the first time but the fourth time around, it’s sort of old hat, you know.” 

“Bradshaw?” The attendant called out, waving the two of you deeper into the shop. “If you’ll follow me? We just want to make sure the alterations are all set before we send it out with you.” 

You trailed after him, tucking your hands into your pockets, and grinning as he gave you a little wink before ducking into the changing room. You sat down in one of the chairs nearby, scrolling through your phone and shooting a text to Katie, the bride. You frowned as your phone began to ring, and you tapped on Katie’s name, taking the call and raising it to your ear. 

“Hey, lady. How are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m okay. Are you guys done, have you gotten everything?” 

You tried not to groan at the panicked edge in her voice.

“We have the stuff for the favor bags, we dropped the checks off.” 

“Are you putting the bags together today?” 

“Not today, but they will be done,” You leaned into the word to stave off her argument, “Before the end of the week, and dropped off to the venue on Friday.” 

“Promise?”

“You have my word. Take a deep breath.” 

“That Katie?” Bradley called out from behind the curtain. 

“Yeah!” 

“Tell her we’ll get it done!” 

“I did!” You laughed before adding, “Bradley says we’ll get it done, too. ‘Kay?” 

“Fine,” She sighed before belatedly tacking on, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything.” 

“I will. Thanks, hon.” 

“Anytime. Bye.” You lowered your phone, looking down as you heard the curtain being pushed aside. You glanced up, doing a double-take at the sight of him. Your stomach flooded with butterflies at the sight. You bit your lip, gaze sweeping him from head to toe. You’d been to fittings with a few groomsmen in your day, but Bradley looked damn good. The suit fit him like a glove. You stood from where you’d settled down, tucking your phone away and stepping closer, folding your arms across your chest to fight off the urge to reach out and touch. Luckily for you, he hadn’t caught sight of your blatant interest as you hovered in his periphery. He was too busy double-checking his buttons.

“…It fits well,” You offered. 

“Yeah?” He asked, glancing back at you. You couldn’t help the way your smile widened as you nodded, allowing yourself to move a couple of steps closer. 

“Yeah. Do you like it?” 

“Wearing a suit feels a little weird,” He chuckled, turning to look at himself in the mirror. “But I guess it’s good practice.” 

“Good practice?” You repeated, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m getting married next year. Actually, all of this has been good practice. You’ve been a lot more helpful than you know.”

Your smile stayed frozen in place as your neck went hot, your blood roaring in your ears. It made sense. It made so much sense, and it had no right to hurt, to twist your insides up. You nodded, and dropped your gaze to his left hand, like you could spot where the ring would sit; you wondered what kind, what metal. Engraved? Plain? Gold? Silver? Bradley struck you as the type to have a plain outer band, and an engraving inside—some secret message, or initials, or the date that they met—the date of their wedding anniversary so that he’d never forget, but Bradley wasn’t the type to forget— 

“You’re sure it looks alright?” 

His question jolted you, made your smile twitch a touch wider out of panic, your eyes bright, attentive, and flickering to his face. Even with your newfound knowledge, your upset, your crushing disappointment—you couldn’t help the softening of your expression at his blatant nerves.

“Yes,” You nodded. “I’m sure.” 

–  

It was ridiculous, right? 

It was ridiculous that it formed a knot in your chest. It was ridiculous that you were so rocked by the revelation that you couldn’t sleep. You needed to do something to get your mind off of what you’d learned; off of the sight of Bradley in that tux, bright and hopeful. 

He’d told you all about his fiancé on the drive back to your place. That was sort of your fault. You had asked—but it had seemed rude not to, once you knew that there was someone in the picture. Bradley had told you all about Liz: how they met (she was a friend of his WSO’s), how long they’d been together (six months), how the proposal had gone (she’d been the one to plan it—from the ring, to where he proposed, to the photographer who photographed the occasion, to the party of friends and family that they went to afterward), how the wedding planning was going. 

“It’s been a bit of whirlwind, planning-wise…Actually, the whole relationship has been,” He’d shrugged. “And our schedules are nuts. We kinda keep moving the goalposts.” 

“On what?” 

“…Well, when it’s gonna be, for one.” 

His laughing admission had planted a little seed of hope in the nest of dismayed vipers making a home in your belly, but you wouldn’t allow it to take root. It was to be expected. Like he said, their schedules were nuts. But still…

When it’s gonna be.

It rose to the top of mind now and again as you worked on the favors through the night, putting custom labels on the bottles of wine, making sure each bag had a corkscrew, and tying a strip of white ribbon around the neck of the bottle. 

When it’s gonna be. 

Couldn’t they just elope, if they were so worried about that? Have a proper wedding later, when things were more settled, if it was causing them so much stress? You hadn’t brought that up, of course. It wasn’t any of your business. 

When it’s gonna be. 

You set the final bottle in the final bag, then dropped the corkscrew inside. You’d already put on the label, and the ribbon. You sighed heavily, looking around your living room. It was crowded with nearly two hundred completed favor bags. How the hell were you going to get them down to your car? Could you even fit all of these in your car? You groaned, leaning back against the couch and scrubbing your hands over your tired eyes. 

Maybe you hadn’t only done the favors to keep your mind off of Bradley. Maybe you’d done it to avoid him, too, just a little. Getting them all done yourself meant that you didn’t have to spend an extra couple of hours with him. Sure, it would’ve gone faster with two, but if you wanted this crush to end with the wedding, you needed to start distancing yourself. 

It wasn’t the kindest way to deal with the circumstances—and maybe your feelings would ebb, now that you knew there was absolutely no chance of acting on them. 

Still, whatever happened, you’d gotten the favors done before the end of the week, as you’d promised Katie. 

–  

“When should I come by? I can bring pizza or something, we’ll get those favors knocked out before the party.” 

It was a sweet offer, because Bradley was a sweet guy. You planted your elbow on your desk, plaintively eyeing your work email before looking around to see if any of your coworkers were listening in. 

“Actually, I took care of them,” You admitted. There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and you bit your lip, waiting for his answer. 

“You—…All of them?” He finally asked. 

“Mhm!” You forced the tone of your hum to be bright and chipper. 

“That’s, like…That’s like two hundred bags.” 

“One hundred and ninety-seven, but. Close!” 

“I could’a helped you.” 

You thought that he sounded disappointed, but surely you were reading into it. 

“No, I know! I know. I got them done, it was no problem. I had time.” 

There was another pause on the other end of the phone, and you found yourself wondering if he was distracted with whatever he was doing on the other end of the line. 

“…How long did it take?” He asked. 

“A bit? I don’t know. I didn’t time it. It was fine, I was awake.” 

“You did them last night?”

“Yes! When else?” You laughed nervously. “Look, it’s seriously fine. They’re all set.” 

“Are you alright?” 

You sagged back in your office chair. 

“Yeah,” You fibbed. 

Another harrowing pause. Then—

“Alright.” 

It sounded like a tired concession. You forced yourself to draw in a deep breath, trying to lift the anxious weight moving to settle in your chest. 

“I’ll need help bringing them to the venue,” You added. 

“I can do that.” 

You knew he could; you hadn’t doubted his willingness to help at any turn. You tipped your head into your hand, nodding a little bit. 

“Sounds good, thank you.”

“You looking forward to the party tonight?” 

No, you really weren’t. In your experience, joint bachelor/bachelorette parties were either hellishly boring, or nothing but trouble. 

“Yeah!” You chirped. “It’s gonna be fun!”

–  

Dinner had been nice. The first couple of rounds of drinks had also been nice. Moving to a club had felt like a bad idea, but there you were nonetheless, crammed between the bar and Bradley. You were trying to focus on anything but the feeling of his body behind yours and the scent of his cologne as you waited for your drinks. This was bad. This was sort of torture. You peered around your shoulder as you heard Katie shriek in excitement, and smiling as her fiance, Cory, leaned in to give her a kiss. 

“They’re sweet.” 

Bradley had to get close to say it—to speak it into your ear, over the sound of the music. He rested his hand on your hip, as if he had to hold and keep your attention, as if you wouldn’t know that he was talking to you. You managed a nod, your fingers flexing against the bar. You lowered your head, stomach twisting as the bartender pushed your drinks toward you. You reached out, passing Bradley’s drink back to him before you took hold of your own. 

Bradley gave your hip a squeeze, steering you back toward the group. Oh—god. You closed your eyes tightly for a second before you turned to face Bradley. You pressed your drink toward his hand, forcing him to let go of you and take hold of it, and leaned in so that he could hear you. 

“I’m going to get some air! I’ll be right back.” 

You turned, squeezing through fellow clubbers before he could ask or argue. You gave the bouncer a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As you slid past him. You puffed softly as the sounds of the club dropped away. The air outside was warm; the breeze pushing over you almost smelled sweet compared to the stench of sweat and booze waiting for you back inside. 

Ugh, god. You didn’t want to go back inside, but you knew you couldn’t get away with going home. Most of your stuff was inside, anyway—your phone, your wallet, your bag. 

“Do you have a light?” 

You glanced up at the question, giving the man asking a small shake of your head. 

“No, sorry.” 

“Eh. I’ll find one.” The man reached into his pocket, tapping out two cigarettes. “Want one?”

“I’m good, but thank you.” 

He grunted, pushing the other one back into the pack before drawing one out and tucking it between his lips. He wandered away, and you leaned back against the outside of the club. 

Maybe you could slide into the booth, grab your things, say goodbye to Katie and Cory, and just dip without him noticing—

“Sure you don’t want one?” 

You looked up, nerves twisting as the man leaned close against the wall beside you. You shook your head, straightening up. 

“Honestly, I’m fine,” You insisted, heading for the door. 

“Hey, c’mon. You could at least keep me company,” The man argued, taking hold of your wrist and tugging you back toward him. Panic trickled through your veins as you tried to yank your wrist back, hissing, “Let go of me—”

“Hey!” 

You hardly caught sight of Bradley before he was shoving the man harshly against the wall. 

“The fuck, dude!” The smoker spluttered, dropping your wrist as he gave Bradley’s chest a shove in return. 

“She said let go, asshole,” Bradley seethed, knocking the man’s hands away. Oh, fuck. You glanced nervously toward the bouncer and the people waiting on line as they took notice of the trouble brewing. Bradley could not get into shit on the weekend of the wedding—Katie would kill you both. 

“He did, he let go! He let go,” You insisted, resting your hand on Bradley’s chest. When it didn’t nudge him back, you took hold of his hand, tugging him back with all your might and hardly budging him. “Let’s go!” You gave his arm another pull, pleading, “Bradley, please.” 

It took another harrowing moment of contentious staring between the two before Bradley drew away, his tight, sharp gaze still set on the other man. You gripped his hand more tightly, raising your other hand to press against his shoulder. 

“Let’s go back inside,” You urged. “Come on.” 

It took another couple of pulls before Bradley acquiesced, trailing you back toward the bouncer. He hesitated at the door, eyes still set on the man before he allowed you to pull him in. 

“Are you alright?” Were the first words out of his mouth. 

“Are you crazy?” Were yours as you ripped your hand away from his. “What the hell were you thinking!” 

Bradley looked stricken, brow knitting together. 

“The hell did you expect me to do? He was all over you!”

“Why did you even follow me outside?” 

“You practically ran out here, I thought something was wrong—and then I got out there and it was worse than I thought.” 

You sighed heavily, turning away and shaking your head. 

“Let’s just…Can we go back to the others?” You mumbled, turning from him. You heard him fall into step a couple of paces behind you, seeming to keep a measured distance as you made your way back to the rest of the wedding party. Once there, you embedded yourself deep into the corner with the bride and the other bridesmaids, forcing your smile wide and avoiding Bradley for the rest of the night. 

–  

It had been terrifying, having someone grab you—but the speed with which Bradley had come to your rescue was…Sort of hot? Sure, you could’ve gotten out of it yourself, but he hadn’t even hesitated. He’d gotten right up in that guy’s face—for you. You were certain that he would’ve done it for any of the other bridesmaids…Though you weren’t sure if he would’ve followed them outside…

No, he would’ve. Surely he would’ve. He was a good guy, it seemed like something he would do—

“Hey.” 

He was nice, and sweet, and…Really, really attractive, god. The look on his face, the cords of his neck straining as he’d shoved the man, as he’d hissed, She said let go, asshole—

“Hey!” 

You jumped at the feeling of Katie flicking the side of your head. The backseat of the uber was a tight squeeze with you, Karie, and Cory. You turned from looking out through the car window, smiling when you saw her watching you. Cozied into Cory’s side, she was peering at you with hazy blue eyes; her copper hair seemed dull under the glow of passing streetlights; her bride sash hung limply around her middle.

“What?” You chuckled. 

“What’s going on with you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re being all…” She waved a finger at you. “You’re being weird. What happened?” 

“Nothing happened.” 

“I heard Bradley tell Cory that someone grabbed you.” 

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you forced your expression to a neutral set.

“It was some drunk guy outside of the club,” You excused. “No big deal, you know. Nothing I’ve never dealt with.” 

“You were all weird when you came back, too. All quiet.” 

“It was loud in there, and I didn’t have much to say. I was vibing.” 

Katie’s eyes narrowed slightly, and you could feel her winding up for a question before she was distracted by the sound of Cory snoring behind her. You grinned as she shifted beside him, elbowing in the side with a hiss of, “Babe! Don’t snore, you’re gonna kill my uber rating!”

–  

Loading the favor bags into Bradley’s Bronco was done in awkward silence. Neither of you said much, apart from, “Here,” and, “Thanks,” and, “I can grab that one.” Despite how carefully they were cushioned as you put them into the car, you found yourself looking into the backseat every few moments as you heard the bottles rattling from some bump in the road. You glanced at Bradley as you turned to look through the windshield again. You weren’t hungover, but you did have a growing headache. 

“…Sorry I got snippy last night.” 

It sort of pained you to say it, but you’d been repeating it in your head for the last two hours. You had to work your way up to saying it. You’d played with the phrasing, the tone, the pace, and it still felt stupid as it came out of your mouth. Before Bradley could say anything, you added, “I know you were just trying to help and I shouldn’t have freaked out at you like that.” 

Bradley still didn’t respond, and it took everything in your power to not turn and look at him, to see if he was even listening, or if he was rolling his eyes. But after a moment, he offered, “S’alright. I may’ve overreacted a little.” 

“…I thought you were gonna slug the guy.” You were trying to tease him, but Bradley didn’t even miss a beat:

“I thought I was, too.” 

You turned to look at him then, stunned. Bradley kept his focus on the road, his jaw clenched, his gaze unreadable behind his sunglasses. You swallowed thickly, looking into the backseat again as the bottles rattled. 

“Would you stop fussin’ over those?” He groaned. “They’re fine.” 

“They better be. We don’t have any extras if they break.” 

“Want me to slow the car to fifteen miles an hour?” 

You could see him starting to smile in your periphery. Your stupid, crush-blind giddiness welled, feeling the tension in the car begin to break down. 

“No…” You twisted back around in your seat, slumping petulantly. “Twenty will be fine.” 

Bradley turned to look at you as the car came to a stop at a red light, gazing at you over the top of his sunglasses. 

“Twenty-three, final offer.” 

“Sold.”

Bradley’s smile made your stomach flip, and you both turned to look through the windshield again as the light turned green. 

–  

The wedding was perfect. The reception was painful. 

Liz seemed lovely, and for as kind as you were trying to be, your attempts were made even more difficult by your wealth of feeling for Bradley, and the adoring way that he curled his arm around her shoulders, pressed a kiss to her cheek, her lips, her temple; the way he offered to get her a drink, or something to eat; the way his hand slid automatically to her hip, or her lower back; the way he hung on her every word.

You didn’t belabor it. When you spotted the two of them dancing together, her body cradled safely against his, you furiously pushed away your feelings of inadequacy and upset away in favor of looking at Katie and Cory. You relaxed at the sight of them—at the love in their eyes, the sureness there.

It reminded you that loving someone wasn’t supposed to hurt. So whatever it was that you felt for Bradley could be left behind, in that room. You needed it to be. 

–  

“You missed the bouquet toss.” 

The sound of his voice made you shiver a little. Aw, hell. You’d only just managed to center yourself. Looking out over the moonlit ocean had calmed you, somewhat. But maybe whatever feelings you had for Bradley could be left…On the venue’s patio? But you glanced back, leaning against the railing and eyeing Bradley as he came closer. 

“I’m alright with that. The last time I was in the middle of one of those, I almost got socked in the face.” 

“Yeesh,” Bradley muttered.

“Yeah, bouquet tosses are no joke.” 

He rested his arms against the wide railing beside you, looking out over the water. The two of you stood in calm silence for a while.

“So when’s your next Maid of Honor gig?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Hopefully not for a while. I think I need a break from the wedding circuit.” 

“You say circuit or circus?” 

“Bit of column A, bit of column B.” 

Bradley chuckled.

“Well, whenever it is, if you need a hand, you let me know.” 

“Even if you’re not involved in the wedding?” 

“Sure. This was honestly kinda fun. And it’s ‘cause I did it with you.” 

The butterflies in your chest whirled restlessly as you felt Bradley look at you. You forced yourself to laugh, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t foist wedding duties on you if you weren’t part of the wedding, Bradley. That would be mean. I appreciate the offer, though.” 

“…Could I pick your brain about wedding stuff, sometime?” He hedged. “You know, as Liz and I get closer to ours?” 

You could say no. You could remind him of what you said, of the fact that you were getting off of the wedding circuit once this wedding was up. You could stick to your conviction that as the necessity for your proximity passed, you’d keep your distance from him— 

“Of course you can,” You nodded, turning to look at him. His sweet smile and the full weight of his gaze and focus were enough to crack you in two. 

“Dream team?” He asked, holding his hand up for a high five. You nodded, giving him a quick high five before you curled your arms around yourself. 

“Dream team.”

–  

It had been a mistake to reopen the lines of communication. You’d made the decision while tipsy, sending him an innocent, innocuous message. You hadn’t even expected a response—but he’d gotten back to you within minutes. You could’ve cut the communication dead there, but you’d found yourself grappling for connection, for the feeling of being wanted. You knew you’d get it from your ex, for better or for worse, and you needed something to drown the rotting buds of affection that you still felt blooming for Bradley. 

You hadn’t seen Bradley since the wedding, but the two of you had kept in touch. When he’d started calling you, most of the conversation had been around his wedding prep, but it hadn’t stayed that way. The two of you always managed to get off-topic—to ask and talk about one another’s lives, your days, your work. After the first couple of months, he seemed to drop the wedding chat entirely, just calling to talk. When you did try to steer it back in that direction—to a venue, or a time of year, or flowers—he managed to talk his way out of it. And you could’ve pried, but you let him avoid the topic. You were happy not to hear about Liz. Whenever your phone buzzed and his name appeared, your heart made a sharp leap from your chest to your throat. You craved the sound of his voice, missed the sight of his smile, reveled in his teasing and laughter. 

So sure, starting a conversation with your ex, Ryan, had been sort of stupid. But it felt smarter than allowing your crush for an engaged man to completely cloud your judgement.

– 

“Are you going to Cory and Katie’s for brunch this weekend?” 

“Is that this weekend?” You groaned, tipping your head back. “Fuck, I forgot.” 

“I thought you would’ve been on top of that! You were so on top of things for the wedding.” 

“Well, that was different. That was way more involved.” 

“Hey, brunch can be pretty damn involved.” 

“You speaking from experience, Bradshaw?” 

“I have faced some terrifying situations, but the worst of which was a bottomless brunch when they ran out of prosecco.” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting in your office chair and stifling a snort. 

“You’re such a weirdo.” 

“So am I gonna see you?” 

Am I gonna see you. 

Not are we going to see you—because presumably Liz would be there, too. A few months ago, Bradley had mentioned wanting to bring her more into the fold, into his group of friends. Most of his friends knew Cory and Katie; most of them would probably be at brunch. 

“Uh…” You eyed your calendar. “Maybe?” 

“You too busy for me now?” 

“For you?” You scoffed a laugh. “This isn’t your brunch, mister.” 

“No, I know. That’s not what I mean, it just…” 

Bradley trailed off on the other end of the phone, and you frowned, shaking your head. 

“‘It just’, what?” 

“It’s been a while since the wedding. It’d be nice to see you.” 

“It’d be nice to see you, too.” The admission felt dangerous, but it was too late to draw back in—and it was mutual. You wouldn’t have dared say it to him if he hadn’t said it first. 

“So come by,” He urged. “At least for a bit.” 

–  

For a bit. You could make it a short stop. 

“We’ll be fast,” You swore. “Like, a hello and a bellini and then we are out of there.” 

“Why are we going if you don’t even want to stay long?” 

It was a valid question, but it made you bristle a bit. It was clear that Ryan wasn’t excited to go. Well, he’d never gotten along with your friends, anyway. He’d had a feeling that they didn’t like him—and he had been right. You hadn’t told anyone that the two of you were seeing one another again, and maybe it was unfair to ambush them like this, but you didn’t think you could be around Bradley and Liz—around their cooing and teasing and sweetness—without something or someone to distract you from the reality of the situation. 

“You want me to drop you off somewhere?” You asked. “I can. I can drop you off and pick you up when I’m done.” 

“I’m only meant—” 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to go.”  

“I never said I didn’t wanna go.” 

“You’re acting like it.” 

“You’re the one saying we don’t have to say long!” He scoffed. “Can we park and get in there?” 

You puffed your cheeks out and pushed out a breath, shaking your head a little bit. This was a bad idea. Maybe you should turn around and head home—

But your heart leapt at the sight of Bradley’s Bronco parked a few cars back from Katie and Cory’s, and you knew you wouldn’t turn around. 

Quick in, quick out. One bellini, maybe half of a bagel, a warning that you had other plans and couldn’t stick around long. Ask Katie how the honeymoon was, tell Cory to call you when they needed to plan the baby shower, maybe high five Bradley, and then you’d dip.

“We always hang out with my friends,” Ryan grumbled as you parked. 

“Why is that even something you’d complain about?” 

“Because you hide me from yours.” 

You put the car in park, stomach churning guiltily as you met his eye. 

“You don’t like my friends,” You reminded him. 

“I’m willing to try, but they need to be, too.” 

“…Okay,” You nodded. “I’ll talk to them about it. Not now, but like. I’ll talk to them about it.” 

“Thank you.” 

You sighed softly, reaching out and taking his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” Ryan tipped his head back against the rest, slightly mussing his ash blond hair. “I don’t get why you’re so freaked about this brunch thing. It’s, like. Supposed to be chill, right?” 

“It is. It is, it’s gonna be a lot of people, their apartment is pretty small. You know how I get when it’s loud and crowded, and…Overloads me.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, glancing toward the building.

“Let’s get you in and out, then,” He offered. “And then we can get me in and out.” He waggled his brows, and you huffed, drawing your hand out of his and getting out of the car. 

Ryan took hold of your hand again once the two of you were on the sidewalk, trailing you as you led him to the door of the apartment building. You could hear music and chatter coming from Katie and Cory’s. You drew in a deep breath before you raised your hand, knocking on the door. It was a moment before it opened, and as soon as it did, your heart stuttered in your chest.

Your attraction to Bradley had never faded like it was supposed to. You had worked at it. You’d reminded yourself of the pros and cons, beaten yourself over the head with the fact that he was with someone, in a committed relationship. You had pushed yourself back into Ryan’s arms because, for a time, you had felt wanted by him. Things had never been perfect between you. You butted heads, and you tended to not want to budge on your arguments. You were quick to anger with one another, with each little nitpick reopening the old wounds. Your relationship had been on-again off-again for a couple of years, with each period of on-again falling into the same patterns that had led to the two of you splitting up in the first place. 

This latest stint with Ryan had only been exacerbated by your frequent conversations with and interest in another man. Every conversation, every touch, hold, kiss, conversation, had been haunted with the idea of Bradley lingering in your periphery. 

“Hey!” Bradley grinned. He reached out, drawing you in without a second’s thought or hesitation. 

You leaned into him, curling your arm around his middle and patting his back. You held for as long as was appropriate, and not nearly as long as you’d like; the scent of him threatened to draw you back in. You would’ve embraced him fully if Ryan wasn’t still holding your other hand. 

“I can’t believe you made it—Katie literally just told me there was no way you were showing up,” He added, leaning back to get a better look at you. 

“Yeah, well,” You smiled weakly. “We can’t stay too long, but we wanted to drop in and see everyone.” 

Your repeated use of we seemed to jolt Bradley. His gaze dropped to your other hand, then swept up Ryan’s arm to take in his face. 

“Bradley, this is Ryan,” You added, stepping back to allow Ryan to come into the apartment fully. “Ryan, Bradley. Bradley was the Best Man at Katie and Cory’s wedding.” 

“Aw, yeah, I’ve seen pictures from the day-of,” Ryan held his hand out, giving Bradley’s a shake. “Nice to meet you, man.” 

“Nice to meet you, too,” Bradley nodded. 

“Where’s Liz!” You tacked on, glancing around. A look that you didn’t recognize flashed across Bradley’s face, but it was gone in a blink.

“Ah, she, uh…She couldn’t make it.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry,” You frowned—and you tried to mean it. 

“It’s alright. Come on, come in,” Bradley added, waving you inside. “Sorry, I shouldn’t stall you guys in the doorway.” 

“It’s okay,” You laughed, looking around before glancing back at Ryan. “Let’s see if we can go find the newlyweds.” You glanced up at Bradley, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’ll see you around.” 

It felt wrong to say—it felt worse when you saw Bradley’s expression falter a touch. But you were already turning away from him and heading for a group of a few of your friends. You saw the flash of their horror and confusion before they pushed smiles onto their faces, squealing, “Hey!” as a group. 

“Hi!” You smiled back, giving Ryan’s hand a reassuring squeeze. You leaned into each of them, kissing their cheeks before leaning back. Katie hardly leaned into you; her gaze was still set on your ex.

“Y’all remember Ryan,” You asked, waving back toward him. It garnered nods and murmurs of agreement. 

“Nice to see you,” He offered before he leaned in a little. “I’m going to go grab a drink. You want one?” 

“Sure,” You nodded, “Thanks.” 

Before you could blink, Ryan ducked in, pressing his lips to yours in a quick, warm kiss. He didn’t overdo it, or make it pointedly salacious for the sake of your friends, like he may have in the past. Now, he gave your lower back a pat and turned, heading away from you, and leaving your little group in a pointed silence. You didn’t meet any of their eyes. You stared at Katie’s glass and warned them: 

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” 

It forced them off of the topic, and onto a new subject: Katie and Cory’s honeymoon in Ibiza. You found yourself half-listening; the other ear was unwittingly searching out the sound of Bradley’s voice in your periphery. You caught on it now and again for a syllable or two, and your head would twitch in his direction. It was impossible for you not to. As badly as you wanted to go to him—to soak up his smiles and his warm, kind eyes—you rooted yourself with your friends, averting your gaze from their nervous and judgemental glances. 

But when the conversation shifted again—when your ear caught on Ella’s comment of, “—A shame about Bradley and Liz, isn’t it?” Your head snapped to them.

“I know,” Katie sighed, shaking her head, “He’s such a good guy.” 

“What happened?” You frowned, shaking your head. The others glanced around conspiratorially before they leaned in a little more. 

“Apparently,” Katie leaned into it, “He and Liz, like…Imploded. She said it was taking them too long to get the wedding together, he said that it would take as long as they needed—” 

“Neither of them would budge,” Ella shrugged. “Apparently she eloped with some guy she met, like, the week after they split.” 

“Oh, my god,” You breathed. The news twisted you all up; you didn’t know how it was possible that someone could do that to Bradley. 

“Honestly, I don’t think she really even wanted to be married to him,” Cassie offered. “I think she just wanted to be married.” 

You found yourself twisting around to try and catch sight of Bradley then—like you could see some visible sign of the change, the distress; like the ring you’d come to imagine sitting on his finger had disappeared. 

And then Ryan rested a hand on your lower back and pressed a bellini into your hand, and it was like a bucket of ice water had been tipped over your head. 

Bradley hadn’t said a thing to you. You had been asking about Liz for months. You had questioned their plans: their honeymoon arrangements, their colors, their venue options; you’d offered to get him in touch with coordinators, with florists, and DJs and caterers and bakers and goddamnit, why hadn’t he told you? 

Why hadn’t he at least feigned that the wedding was on hold? That they were regrouping, or restrategizing, or asked you to change the topic, or to just shut the hell up about it? Had he not wanted you to know? Was it a matter of his loss, his pride? 

Finally catching sight of him across the room, you found him with a gaggle of guys. He had a glass in his hand, and a smile on his face as he laughed—the kind that made his eyes crinkle, and his chin tip up with the force of it. You saw his head turn toward you a touch, and you hurriedly averted your gaze, raising your glass to your lips and taking a deep draw from your glass. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. The alcohol seemed to burn and bubble as it dropped into your belly. 

“Hon, are you okay?” Ella asked, frowning at you. “You’re looking a little green around the gills.” 

“Uh…No, you know what, I actually, um,” You cleared your throat. “I’m not feeling well. I think we should get going, actually, we’ve got some other things that we need to, um…” You cleared your throat, glancing back toward Ryan. He looked as confused as your friends. Maybe he figured the two of you would stay for more than five minutes. You were a flurry of apology as you pecked their cheeks, grabbing Ryan’s hand and half-dragging him out of the apartment. 

“They say something about me?” He asked tiredly as the two of you left. 

“No,” You shook your head, climbing into the car. “No, it really—I really do feel like shit right now.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest; the blood was roaring in your ears; your head was spinning. You stuck the key into the ignition before you leaned back to put your seatbelt on, drawing in a deep breath as you tried to calm yourself down. 

“If you feel so shitty, you probably shouldn’t be driving,” Ryan grumbled. 

“I can handle it.”

“You could’ve at least waited for me to get something to eat—” 

“Oh my god,” You groaned. “Maybe you should’ve grabbed a bagel while you were already in the kitchen, then.” 

“You said you wanted a drink.” 

“You offered to get me one!” 

You turned to the car, turning the key in the ignition before glancing at Ryan, doing a double take and waving at his chest.

“…What?” He asked. 

“Would you put your fricking seatbelt on, please?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously!” You insisted. “God forbid something happen, I don’t want you flying through the fucking windshield—” 

“You know what?” Ryan reached out, opening the door. “I’m gonna walk.” 

“You’re gonna walk?” You scoffed. “You’re really gonna fucking—” 

You winced as he slammed the door shut. You shook your head, glancing into the rear view. Fucking fine. If he wanted to walk, he could fucking walk. You glanced to the side mirrors and checked your blindspot before flooring it out of the spot and peeling down the block. You glanced down as you heard your phone buzz, certain you would have a text from Ryan, asking you to pick him up at the corner. 

Instead, you spotted Bradley’s name. You found yourself pitching your phone into the passenger side footwell on instinct as you turned back to the road.

He hadn’t even thought about pulling you in when he saw you. He’d drawn you into his arms, completely disregarding Ryan—so much so that he seemed surprised when you pointed Ryan out. He’d acted like you were the only person there. 

You pressed your elbow against the door, resting your head on your head. 

Six months. You had been asking Bradley (or trying to ask Bradley) about the wedding for the last six months. He had played along. You felt stupid, embarrassed. 

And goddamnit, you felt hopeful. 

–  

When you finally got home and retrieved your phone from the car footwell, you had three texts and five missed calls. 

Three of the missed calls were from Ryan, as well as one of the texts—a request to sit down and hash out whatever the hell happened at the party. Another was from Katie (Bitch, you got a lot of explaining to do with a gif of Ricky Ricardo waggling his finger). You saw the missed calls and texts from Bradley last: 

BB (#DreamTeam)

Sorry I missed you on your way out

As if it was his fault.

Well, then again, it sort of was.

You eyed the last time he called; it had been a few minutes ago. You huffed softly, considering your options. You shot a text over to Ryan agreeing to meet first. You knew that delaying your response in favor of calling Bradley would send your guilt through the roof. Then, you hesitantly tapped on Bradley’s name, putting the phone on speaker. You glanced around, sighing and leaning back in the driver’s seat as the ringtone brrrr’d in the absence of his response. It was one ring away from going voicemail when you heard him pick up. 

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hey. Sorry, I was driving, I didn’t, uh—I didn’t see that you called.” 

“That’s okay.” 

You nodded a little before you paused, brows raising a touch. 

“So what’s up?” You finally pressed. 

“Seemed like you left in a hurry. I turned around and you were just gone.” 

“Something came up.” 

“Katie said you weren’t feeling well.” 

Snitch. 

“I wasn’t.” 

“Feeling better now?” Bradley pried, and before you could even think of your answer, “Wanna go grab a drink, or…Dinner, something?” 

You tipped your head back against the rest, closing your eyes. No. No. That was an awful idea. You needed to get together with Ryan as soon as possible, to get your shit together, to work out whatever you needed to work out—

–  

“You been here before?” You asked. 

“Uh—”

“Hey, Rooster!” 

Your brows raised as he raised a hand, waving at a woman not too far off. He turned a bashful smile toward you as he lowered his hand, folding his arms on the bar. 

“It’s near the base, so it’s pretty popular with people in the service.” 

“It’s nice in here,” You nodded, looking around. 

“Nicer than Katie’s?” 

He didn’t bother trying to be subtle, leaning into the question. You slowly turned to face forward again, casting the bartender a smile and a thanks as she set your drinks down. Bradley waited until she drifted away before he added, 

“You ran out of there like you were on fire.” 

“Thought you turned around I was just gone,” You reminded him, raising your brows. Bradley’s eyes skated across your face. 

“Saw you out of the corner of my eye,” He admitted. 

“How’d you know it was me?”

“I’ve seen you ditch out of somewhere before.” 

You turned from him, taking up your beer. 

“You need someone to sock that guy, I’m your first call,” Bradley added, and you couldn’t help but smile ruefully as you shook your head. 

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” 

“Katie said he doesn’t treat you right.” 

“The way Liz treated you?” 

It fell out of your mouth before you can stop it. You watched Bradley’s expression harden, his jaw clenching as his fingers flexed around the bottle in front of him. He didn’t hold your gaze. As bad as you felt for mentioning it, you couldn’t have it over your head anymore. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You plied when he gave no answer. “I asked about that shit for months, like a fricking idiot.” 

“You weren’t an idiot. You didn’t know.”

“Exactly my point! Why didn’t you at least pretend you had postponed it or something?” 

“I didn’t wanna talk about it. I still don’t.” 

“Then why’d you invite me out?” 

“I said I didn’t want to talk about that, not that I didn’t want to talk at all.” 

You both turned back to your drinks, gaze set contentiously on them. 

“…I take it Katie told you about Ryan?” You hedged.

“A bit, yeah.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“That he’s a dick who won’t compromise.” 

“Yeah, well,” You shifted on your bar stool. “I don’t exactly have a gold medal in that, either when it comes to him.” 

“Just him?” 

You considered for a moment, tipping your chin up and eyeing the opposite wall. 

“We butt heads, we always have. It always starts out pretty well, and then…I don’t know. Little things start to break down, little communication errors or fights and they get bigger and bigger, and,” You raised a hand, mimicking an explosion. “He was peeved when we went to Katie’s, thought I pulled him out of there because they said something to me about him. I mean, they would’ve, probably. And they clearly said something to you.” 

“She said she had no idea how you even linked back up.” 

“I texted him a kitty picture.” 

You saw Bradley frown out of the corner of your eye, his mouth working wordlessly as he seemed to grapple with something. It clicked, and you groaned, “No, an actual cat, you—” You reached out, giving his shoulder a light shove as the two of you dissolved into laughter, “You perv.” 

–  

You don’t let Bradley right back in, and you don’t show Ryan right out, either. Where your friendship with Bradley had been middling, your reopened channels of communication were slowly bringing it back to life. Where your relationship with Ryan had been waning, you gave it another shot in earnest. 

– 

“So when do I get to meet him?” Bradley asked.

“You already met him,” You chuckled. 

“Not properly. I didn’t get a chance to really talk to him.” 

“You want to?” 

Bradley leaned back in his seat a little. You could feel his gaze sweeping you, even as you poked at your dinner. 

“You don’t want me to?” He batted back. You shrugged. 

“I have no problem with it. Kinda surprised, considering what Katie’s told you about him.” 

“I like to draw my own conclusions. ‘Sides, if you’re with him, he can’t be all that bad.” 

“Your opinion of me is way too high, Bradshaw.” 

“Your opinion of yourself isn’t high enough.” 

Your stomach flipped at his insistence, and you raised your drink to swallow your arguments. 

“Gonna have to meet him soon,” He added. 

“Why’s that?” 

“I’m goin’ away.” 

He said it so casually, so easily, like it wouldn’t hit you below the belt and ruin your appetite. You carefully lowered your glass back to the table. 

“When?” You asked as lightly as you could manage. 

“Next week.” 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“At least a couple of months.” 

You nodded a little, belly squirming with nerves. It was a wholly irrational response. You knew very well what Bradley did. You just hadn’t come into contact with the reality of it before. 

“So?” He leaned against the table. “When can I meet him?”

“…I don’t know, I don’t…” You shook your head. “I don’t know when he’s, um…” Your brain was scrambled all of the sudden. It was like it was being overtaken with the knowledge of Bradley’s leaving, the possibilities. “I’ll ask.” 

“I’ll pencil it in.” 

“Am I gonna see you before I leave?” 

“With Ryan?” 

“I mean if he can’t make it.” 

You give Bradley a guarded gaze from beneath your eyelids, smiling as you see him nodding. 

“Course you’re gonna. Dream team, remember?” 

– 

“Think your guy can pencil me in for when I’m back?” 

You grimaced at his question. Bradley had been gone for almost a month, and asking that question for nearly just as long. Your phone time had only increased with his being so far away; you got a call from him every other day, if not every day. You shifted on your couch, eyeing your tv boredly. 

“Be kinda weird for you to hang out with a guy I’m not with anymore, but yeah, I’m sure we could work something out.” 

There was a moment of quiet on the other end of the phone before he asked, “When’d that happen?“

"Yesterday.”

“And what happened there?” 

“We were not, uh…” You shook your head. “Ultimately, we weren’t compatible. I think that’s the nice way to say it.” 

“What’s the mean way?” 

“He’s a fucking dumbass.” 

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Sure. Anyone who can’t make it work with you—there’s gotta be something wrong with ‘em.” 

You tipped your head back against your couch, your feet kicking with childish excitement. Ugh, goddamnit, he always seemed to know the right thing to say. 

“Anyway,” You pushed on as you settled back down. “I can still set you up with Ryan.” 

“No thank you.”

“Gee, why not?”

“He’s not really my type. Sounds like he’d be Liz’s, though.” 

You smiled a little ruefully, hand scrubbing over the side of your neck. It had taken some time, but Bradley had finally opened up to you about what had gone wrong. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault, he’d sworn. It was just that they were in different places, ready (or not ready) for different things. He’d gradually gone from not giving a damn what she’d gotten up to without him to wishing her well. You couldn’t imagine feeling the same good will toward Ryan. 

“Doesn’t seem like she needs a fix up,” You quipped.

“She certainly does not.” 

“Mm. How’s it going over there?”

“It’s been alright. Tiring,” Bradley admitted. “We’ve moved on to parameter-specific runs, and it’s, uh…It’s gonna be a hard one.” 

You bit your lip. You weren’t sure what to say that he surely hadn’t heard a hundred times before. Tell him that he would be fine? Beg him to come home safely? 

You hadn’t been able to spend time alone with Bradley before he’d left. Katie had wound up having a small dinner at her place—something for friends, something more casual. You couldn’t bring yourself to selfishly break off another bit of his time, and you’d soaked up all of him that you could while you were there. When the party had ended, you’d trailed him back to the Bronco. Your conversation had gone on and on outside of it, and then inside when you couldn’t bring yourself to stand still. Even then, practically facing one another in the front seat of his car, you’d found yourself feeling antsy. You’d wanted to tell him something beyond the fact that you would miss him. You wanted to tell him that you were worried about him; you wanted to somehow let him know that the news of his sudden departure had kept you up for the better part of a week; you wanted to know if he would be thinking of you, too; you wanted to reach out and touch—his hand, his arm, his cheek, something. 

But you’d kept to your side of the car, bottled your protests and worries, and resolutely tried to ignore the way your heart leapt in your throat whenever his knee nearly brushed yours. 

Now, the clarity of distance told you that you’d done the right thing. Laying some confession of interest or a kiss on him would’ve clouded the lines of communication that you had open now—lines that you weren’t willing to jeopardize. 

“You’ll get it,” You finally said, “Whatever it is.” 

“I’d tell you more, but—”

“No, that’s alright. I think that would just make me more worried, anyway.” 

“You worry about me?” 

Crap. You slid down in your seat, pressing your head back against the cushion. 

“Course I do,” You admitted quietly, as if he could lose the sound of you over the phone—as if your mumbled confirmation wouldn’t be chased or leaned into. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Oh, well, thank you for that absolution. I was only worrying for fun.” 

“C’mon,” Bradley chuckled softly. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” You grumbled. 

“It’s nice.” 

“It’s nice? You enjoy making me worry? That’s just cruel, Bradshaw.” 

“Swear to god, when I get back, I’m gonna—” 

“What?” You goaded, heart ticking up in your chest. “What are you gonna do?” 

Maybe it was a step too far. Bradley went quiet on the other end of the phone. Your mouth went dry as you waited with nervous anticipation. And then you registered the yell of someone on the other end of the phone, the use of his callsign. 

“Shit,” He muttered, then, louder: “I gotta go.” 

“Okay,” You nodded. It was better that he couldn’t see the nod, or the way panic washed across your face. “Be careful.” 

He didn’t need to be told that, but you couldn’t help the plea. 

“I will,” He swore. And then he was gone. You lowered your phone, watching as BB (#DreamTeam) flickered away, leaving your lock screen. Gonna what? What the hell was he gonna do when he got back? 

Then again, you weren’t sure you cared what it was, so long as he did get back. 

–  

“Did I wake you up?” 

“No!” You leaned over, turning your lamp on and pushing yourself to sit up, your phone clutched in your hand. You knew that the first thing you’d said to him, your groggy little opening gambit of, “Whazzit?” had probably given the game away, but hell, he’d asked.

You’d hardly heard from Bradley for the last few weeks. You hadn’t reached out. You hadn’t wanted to bother or distract him from his task. But on the late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you found yourself wondering if Bradley hadn’t contacted you because he couldn’t—because something had gone wrong. You’d found yourself constantly checking your phone, keeping it on the edge of your periphery on the off-chance he called or texted. 

“You lying to me?” He added. At least he sounded a little amused by the prospect. You scrubbed your hand across your eyes. Damnit. 

“…A little bit,” You mumbled. 

“Go back to sleep.” 

“Nooo,” You whined, kicking your feet petulantly beneath your sheets. “Talk to me.” 

“You laying down?” 

“…I was.” 

“Lay back down.” 

The order felt a little salacious, but you were sure he meant nothing by it. Still, you slid down as he said, tipping your sleep-heavy head back against the pillows. 

“Talk to me,” You urged again. “Please?” 

“You should’ve let me go to voicemail.” 

“I said talk, not argue.” 

“Now who’s arguing?” 

You smiled, letting your eyes close. 

“‘M not arguing. Making a point isn’t arguing.” 

“It is when you use that tone.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

His reassurance made you melt into the mattress a little more. 

“Good,” You mumbled. “I was afraid you weren’t.” 

“Don’t worry about that.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“Now you’re arguing again,” He chuckled. “You always this combative when you wake up?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“…Yeah, I would.” 

For a moment, you were certain you imagined him saying it, or that you’d managed to mishear him in his hazy state. 

“You could, you know,” You finally offered.

“Oh yeah? How would I do that?” 

His voice was different than you were used to—low and soothing, and curled with a wink that you longed to see. 

“How do you think?” 

“Could always call you in the middle of the night again.” 

You pushed a sleepy, ugly giggle, then slapped your hand over your mouth when you realized that the sound escaped you. Bradley laughed quietly on the other end. 

“If that’s the route you wanna go, Bradshaw.” 

“I am sorry,” He added. “I forgot what time it was over there.” 

“S’okay, I don’t mind. I missed your voice.” 

God, being tired made you far more loose-lipped than you typically were. You were already penciling in a reminder to be mortified about this conversation in the morning. But it was chased and erased by Bradley’s gentle, 

“I missed yours, too.” 

Your stomach squirmed at the sentiment, a goofy smile spreading across your face. 

“Even when it sounds like I’ve been gargling gravel?” You teased. 

“You don’t sound like that.” 

It took you a few moments to answer. As badly as you wanted to stay awake, you could feel sleep sinking its claws into you, drawing you back down. 

“No? Feels like I do.” 

“You don’t. You might if you stay up talking to me, though.” 

“Worth it,” You insisted. You didn’t know if he took longer to answer, or if it took longer to register with you. But his voice finally worked through:

“Go back to sleep.” 

“I don’t wanna.”

“I’ll see you soon.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Mmmkay,” You finally relented. “Get home safe, please.” 

“I will.” 

–  

In the morning, you were far less embarrassed than you thought you would be. Sure, there were still things that you sort of wish that you hadn’t said, but they were clouded out by other things—like the way Bradley had reassured you that you didn’t sound like hell, and the fact that he’d missed your voice in the first place. 

Still, all of those things were stomped out by one thing that you were almost certain had been a figment of your sleep-addled mind, something that you wanted desperately to be real, but would never bring yourself to ask Bradley about—

The sound of his warm, tender little murmur right before you’d drifted off entirely: 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You spent the morning stewing over whether or not you’d really heard Bradley say that, or if you’d conjured it up. Maybe it was something that you simply wanted so badly that you had imagined it. 

Your eyes kept darting to your phone during work, your heart leaping into your throat every time the screen lit up. It was usually some app alert. Every time you perked up at the sight of it only to be let down, you felt silly. It was another entire day of ebbing excitement and rising disappointment, raising your hopes for absolutely nothing. By the time you left your office, you’d exhausted yourself. You were being ridiculous. Sure, he’d said he’d see you soon, but that was probably relative to—

“Did you manage to fall back asleep? Or did you stop talking because you were bored with me?” 

Your eyes widened, your mouth falling open at the sight of him outside your office building. You didn’t even think as you darted toward him, barrelling into him. Bradley took hold of you as though you hadn’t run into him with any force. He held firm, curling his arms around your shoulders as you clung to him. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes. He smoothed his hand over your back as you grappled with it all—the feel of him; the scent of his cologne and aftershave; the fact that you could see him, touch him, prove to yourself that he was okay. 

When you finally managed to talk yourself into loosening your grasp, you drew back a little, your bashful embarrassment bubbling up and trying to overtake the joy that you felt. Bradley simply smiled, cupping your cheek in a way that made your heart sing. 

“Hi there,” He murmured.

“Hi,” You laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking.” 

“S’alright,” He shook his head. “I’m not complaining.” 

“When you said you’d see me soon, I didn’t think you meant so soon.” 

“I know. I wanted to surprise you.” 

“Well, mission accomplished.” 

His thumb swept gently over the apple of your cheek, his smile pulling wide to match yours. 

“When did you get back?” You asked.

“Couple of hours ago.” 

And he was there, with you? Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt. 

“Aren’t you tired?”

“A little.” 

“Are you hungry?” 

“I could eat.” 

“What do you want?” 

Bradley’s tongue swept across his lips, his eyes skimming your face for a moment. Then, seeming to rethink something, he shrugged. 

“Whatever you’ve got.” 

–  

Technically you didn’t have much, but Bradley didn’t gripe about ordering in pizza. Hell, when you suggested it, he let out a groan that rattled right through you before emphatically agreeing: 

“Fuck yes. Please.” 

The way he said it stuck with you for entirely the wrong reason, and you found yourself almost studiously perusing a delivery app for the best option to keep him from clocking your aroused embarrassment. You didn’t have a dining room table, so the two of you wound up eating side by side, close, with some nonsense tv show that neither of you were really paying attention to playing in the background. When you asked about how it had gone, as delicately as possible, he shrugged.

“I won’t pretend it was the worst mission I’ve ever flown,” He said. “But I’m going to pretend that it was the best, either.” 

He didn’t go into specifics, but that was alright. You still weren’t quite certain that you wanted him to. The less you knew, the better. Besides, it didn’t matter, anyway. He was there, safe, with you. 

“Well,” You leaned back, on your couch, dusting the crumbs off of your fingers. “I’m glad it worked out.” “Mm,” He nodded, pushing his plate away before he looked around. You raised your brows as he lowered his hand to the cushions, giving them a squeeze. 

“So,” He smiled, “This where you usually call me from?” 

“Usually.”

“Even last night?” 

“Last night was a bit of an exception. I think we both know that.” 

“Where were you?” 

You nodded toward the hall. “My room. That’s where I gargle gravel.” 

“I told you you didn’t sound bad,” Bradley laughed.  

“Yeah, you did, and I still don’t believe you.” 

Bradley shook his head a little. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hand sliding across the cushion, a little closer to you. 

“You sounded good,” He insisted. 

“Good might be stretching it.” 

“Good’s the tip of the iceberg.” 

Your tummy fluttered at the feeling of his fingertips tenderly skating over the back of your hand. Your fingers wriggled, like it would entice him to touch you more—like if you didn’t move, didn’t react, he’d pull away or stop. Bradley lowered his gaze to your hands, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt him gently turn yours, his calloused fingertips skating across your palm. 

“…Bradley?” 

“Mhm?” 

“This may be an incredibly dumb question—” 

“Doubt it.”

“Wh—” You laughed nervously before you could finish the question. “Why did you…I mean, you just got back. Why’d you come see me?” 

“Because I missed you.” He took hold of your hand, his thumb sweeping along the side. “I needed to see you.” 

The word makes your pulse quicken, and you blink a few times to try and clear your swimming head. 

“…Needed?” You repeated dazedly. Bradley nodded, lifting his head to meet your eye. 

“Needed, sweetheart.” 

The way he said it was so soft, and warm, and so perfectly familiar that you could’ve cried. But Bradley was already cradling your cheek, already drawing you close and leaning in to meet you halfway. You raised your other hand, cupping the side of his neck as your lips met for the first time. Your eyes closed as you savored the tender slip and press of his kiss. The mustache was a little bristly, but hardly as intrusive as you thought it may be. The slight tickle of it made you smile. 

Bradley drew back, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw before he pressed his face into your neck. 

“Goddamn,” He mumbled, voice rumbling against your skin. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” 

“You have?” You asked, sliding your hand up into his hair. 

“Longer than I should’ve been.” 

You bit your lip, resting your head against his. 

“If it makes you feel any better, so have I.” 

He pressed a sweet kiss to the crook of your neck before sweeping his lips over your neck and jaw, up to your ear.

“It does.”

You shivered at the caress of his breath. You turned your head shyly, nuzzling the tip of his nose with yours before tipping your chin up, giving him another gentle kiss. Bradley sighed into you, his grip in your hand tightening as you shifted closer to him. You hummed softly as he leaned back, resting his forehead against yours, chasing his lips for another peck.

“Before I completely monopolize your time, is there anything else that you planned on doing tonight?” You asked. Bradley chuckled, shaking his head.

“I did want to do one thing.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show as you, just nodded.

“What’s that?”

“See how combative you are when you wake up.”

You grinned wide, raising your hand and curling it in his collar, drawing him closer.

“Just you wait, mister.”

Taglist: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce

#Bradley Bradshaw x Reader #Bradley Bradshaw x You #Bradley Bradshaw/Reader #Bradley Bradshaw/You #Bradley Bradshaw fic #Bradley Bradshaw imagine #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader #The Periphery

[whimsical-roasting]

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?”

thinking about random moments shared in the jamie tartt x psych major!reader fic i have in my head... just cute shit tbh

okay so the reader has been with the Richmond club for a solid few months, she’s a familiar face and friendly to the team but not super close with everybody, minus Colin and surprisingly,,, Jamie hehe

the team seems to be having a serious tie-streak going on, and they’re all kinda bummed by it

Ted’s obviously still Ted, unwavering winners mindset that basically means ‘do your best, give yourself a pat, shake it off, and repeat’ - with the addition of a smile ofc!

the reader has been doing readings for her org psych class and knows that raising group morale is necessary but also so so hard.

sometimes motivational speeches just don’t cut it yknow?? sometimes you gotta think outside of the box to fix the vibes and spread positivity

so there she is, standing in the coach’s office with a bluetooth speaker in her hand, nervously waiting for it to be her turn to speak

“Coach Ted,” she calls him in a manner that’s playful but still professional - he’s insisted on just Ted in the past and she’s complied but for serious conversations, she enjoys leading with a ‘subtle sense of professionalism’

“Coach Ted, how do you feel about group cohesion and dance breaks?” she asks, fiddling with the speaker in her hand

“Well darlin, I love a good flash mob. Gosh, those folks must keep in touch, right?” He directs his eyes to Beard, who peaks over his book and replies affirmingly, “a bond has been formed,” causing both you and Ted to smile

“Well, less flash mob but more like... a bi-weekly dance break?” she continues as Ted’s eyes land on her again. “I know the boys are bummed with the tie-streak and I was reading in my org psych textbook about the importance of autonomy in decorating our workspaces, and how group morale helps cohesion which’ll lead to better attitudes and hopefully better performance - not that our performance has been poor, it’s been great, I’m proud of the boys really! But, it sucks to see them bummed out...So maybe a twice-a-week-song-dance-break will lift spirits??” 

she’s rambling. she’s nervous!! it’s a good idea tbh but still, sharing means being vulnerable and the potential of getting rejected

Ted politely waits for her to finish, nodding along and then grins, “sounds wonderful darlin! Hey, maybe you can get the boys to give some song suggestions to help with the whole autonomy thing you mentioned.” 

she’s happy !! grinning as she steps out to the locker room, dragging out the whiteboard from the corner and scribbling in a lil corner of it

Jamie’s eyes follow her silently. truth be told, they followed her when she entered and disappeared into the coach’s office. but he smiles a lil seeing her grin at herself

when she’s done with the whiteboard, she calls for attention and lets the boys know to write down their suggestions, and she’ll choose two songs for the week randomly!! she emphasizes nervously that it should help according to her textbooks and Jamie is silently nodding, eyes drifting to her hands as she fiddles with the whiteboard marker

Dani is the first to speak, “pardon me, can it be Spanish songs too?” and she smiles really big, “anything you like!!” 

Isaac adds, “yea bruv, I fuck wit Bad Bunny” and there’s a wave of approving noises from the rest

SO, the plan has been implemented, and it’s frickin working!!! 

the boys always look forward to whose song is chosen - lots of rap, some taylor swift, Work Hard Play Hard makes them go nuts, some musical songs from Colin but it’s okay cause the lads are hyped over Hamilton 

Ted gets into it!! dancing!! Dani and Jan Maas share an imaginary mic!! it’s great, but Jamie’s favourite part is seeing her join them in the locker rooms for every dance break grooving to the music

one day SHE chooses the song... “Keep Your Head Up” by Andy Grammer cause the team seemed extra tired and bummed

everyone’s like ??? who chose this?? she’s like ‘me. I did.’

she’s trying to break the tension, so she takes her imaginary mic and goes to Ted, then Colin, then Sam, and soon everyone’s into it - just happily singing and dancing

she somehow ends up next to Jamie, shoulders bumping. she’s swaying as she faces him, playfully mouthing the lyrics to him as he smiles with a slight blush (not that she notices cause she’s blushing too)

they’re both dancing close to each other, and she lightly pokes his chin when the song goes, “you gotta keep your head up”, reaching up to pull down his headband at, “and you can let your hair down,” grinning at him when he’s like ‘hey!! :o... >:)’

the song ends, and they’re still laughing at each other, holding hands...a bit longer than they should tbh hehehe. Jamie loves her energy and kindness, it matches his goofiness and makes him wanna be a better person

but anyways!!! they pull away, hoping no one notices.. some do but don’t say anything

#jamie tartt x psych major!reader #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt

[beanibon]

Heyyy, I really like your writing and I was wondering if you could do headcanons for Knives x gender-neutral!reader. Knives just kinda picked the reader up in the middle of the desert and has been staying with him ever since(does that make sense? I've been delusional for the past 3 years, sorry if it doesn't make sense)

Yes it absolutely makes sense! Knives just picked up a stray puppy and said "You're coming home with me."

Honest to God love this, and my inner gremlin wants me to make reader just hand Knives random things like children do, so please enjoy these lil headcanons!

Knives x genderneutral!reader headcanons

You wandered the long hallways of the laboratory, waving a greeting to anyone that passed. You had been in Knives care for a few weeks now, after he found you half dead while transporting a recently captured plant. After you had mistaken him for god, Knives smirked as he watched you lose consciousness yet again, using his sharp tendrils to pick you up.

Since then you didn't really have much of a purpose anywhere else within this strange facility. Occasionally Conrad will have you run a few errands within JuLai, but other than that your days were filled with boredom.

You learnt Knives didn't necessarily need company, after many failed attempts at conversing with him upon miraculously bumping into the strange man. So it made you wonder why he even bothered to save you.

Knives made his presence scarce, but that didn't stop you from catching a particularly chilling glare sent your way from some unknown direction. He was watching you, for whatever purpose? You didn't know.

It wasn't until one particularly boring day, where you found yourself within the plant room, fiddling with some crystal you'd gotten for free after finishing an errand for Conrad. Knives had snuck up on you, mouth opened to ask you what you were doing in a restricted area, interrupted by your look of boredom and a hand outstretched to him.

You presented the crystal to him, placing it in his hand when he didn't take it before walking off.

Knives just stood there, confused as he looked at the clearly fake crystal, but he didn't get rid of it. Instead he displayed it on his piano, a constant reminder of you.

This happened a few times, you would go on an errand for Conrad, grab something for yourself but give it up the moment you saw Knives, and without missing a beat Knives would display it on his piano.

Then one day you didn't give him a gift, walking straight past him with your head buried in a frayed book. Stupidly enough, he stood there with his palm open, awaiting your trinket like usual, now he just looked like a moron.

Angered he stormed after you, snatching the book from your hand, in which you let out a whine, pouting up at him. He stared at you expectantly, waiting for his gift.

It took you a while to realise what he wanted, blinking in confusion until a light bulb went off. It resulted in a laughing fit, teasing the plant for his childish behaviour.

Knives grumbled something about you being cruel, turning to leave. You stopped him, slipping something in his hand.

You gave him a sweet smile, squeezing his hands as you walked off, burying your face back into your book. Knives couldn't help the way he stared after you, longing to wander after you.

Instead he opened his palm, eyes widened at the bejewelled ring in his hand. The diamond sparkling in the artificial lights of the facility's hallway.

Swallowing, Knives followed after you, heart beating as he followed behind you, watching as your focused face turned into a gleeful smile. Reaching a hand backwards, you grabbed his, holding it fondly as you playfully swung it.

Little did you know, you now fashioned a diamond ring on the very same hand.

#trigun stampede #trigun #millions knives #millions knives x reader #million knives x reader #knives x reader #million knives #knives millions #millions knives x you #nai x reader