Tumgik
#i just wanted to have this out before the day turned over
Note
Alright, hear me out I am thinking... Werebear. I just can't get my mind off of the idea of a werebear with his little round ears and fuzzy tail who gets disturbed while trying to hibernate (Which he's admittedly not very good at)
That's it, take it and run girly~
(OH it's just a quick one shot- sike, this was a lot longer than I planned and I had to cut some of it for another time lol I should have made it two parts, but whatevs
Enjoy the show - Strawberry 🍓)
Werebear x Fem!Reader
You move into a new apartment complex and notice your next-door neighbor being a lot more secluded and withdrawn lately as the winter creeps in. One late night, as you're walking through the hall to your door, you notice the door to his apartment is wide open...
Contains: unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, light free use kink (?)
You had moved into this apartment complex just shy of 3 months ago. You were still getting your bearings, having not lived completely alone before. You always had roommates or family living with you, so finally being completely alone was strange. Your apartment complex wasn't very big. There were only two other apartments on your side of the hall, yours sandwiched between the two.
The older werewolf woman that lived on your right seemed to be pretty calm and quiet, albeit a bit paranoid. She looked to be about 50-60 years old, but could be older. You hadn't seen her leave the complex property before, so you just chalked it up to her being a bit of a recluse. You occasionally grab her mail for her when she asks, and she's always grateful, giving you a handful of candy before sending you on your way.
The man that lived on your left was a very different story. You two had met lare at night when he offered to help you move a very large chair that you had bought a few days after you moved in. You were struggling to get it into the elevator after regretting that you had ordered the orc size for the chair and not werewolf of something. Damn you and your enjoyment of large furniture.
A large, burly man with a bushy brown beard had appeared behind you during your struggle. His curly golden brown hair was short and messy. He seemed to be around a staggering 7' tall, easily towering over you. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, steel-toe workboots, and a reflective vest that people used on construction sites. Of course, you assumed that he just got off of work and was getting impatient with you hogging the only elevator. You were about to apologize for being in his way and try to get the chair out of the way when he put his massive hand on your forehead, gently moving you out of the way. With a faint grunt, he easily moves the chair into the elevator. He stands in the elevator with the chair next to him and enough space for you to stand next to him. He holds the elevator door open for you as he stares at you. He notices you hesitating and looks away from you, his dirt covered cheeks turning a bit red as he looked away from you. He was still waiting for you.
"O-oh. Thank you." You said softly with a smile as you looked up at him and stepped into the elevator. You clicked the button for your floor, and he nodded in response as he moved his arm, letting the door close. "You must be one of my neighbors. I just moved in about a week ago. It's a pleasure to meet you."
He let out another grunt as he nodded once again, only glancing at your occasionally as he avoided touching you in the cramped elevator. Saying he was a large man as an understatement. You had to strain your neck to look up at him, but looking at eye level or lower was even worse. He was built like a truck with a nice layer of chubbiness. He seemed so soft, so nice to hug. You just wanted him to pick you up and hold you. It was hard to focus on anything but him as his chest was only inches away from your face. You could tell that he had a very strong build, and you love a large dad bod. He was covered in dirt and sweat, but his scent was still a bit too nice for your comfort.
As the elevator doors opened, you found yourself trying to scramble out the door and out of the way as quickly as possible. You had let out a sigh of relief, trying to calm your racing heart as he lifted the chair out of the elevator with ease. He immediately started walking towards your door.
You quickly got out your keys and jogged down the hall to open your door. He moved quickly, so he was already at your door by the time you got there. Once your door was open, you led him inside your cozy apartment and towards your livingroom. As he stepped inside, he was surprised at the decore you already had up. Pictures and posters and a few fake plants with fairy lights pinned to the ceiling.
After he put down the chair where you told him to, he noticed the rest of your furniture. It was all fairly large, at least the size for most werewolves, but all covered in pillows and blankets to make it cozy. He felt like just looking at your apartment would make him fall asleep. He needed to leave. Your heart sank a bit, following him as he immediately turned to walk towards the front door.
"Thank you for your help! I don't know what I would have done if you didn't help me. I'm sorry I bothered you on your way home-" You say, but he cuts you off by holding out his hand to you to shake. You take it gently, and he begins to speak.
"Don't worry about it. If you ever need help with anything, I live next door on your left. Apartment 400. I'm pretty handy." He says softly as he looks down at you with a blank expression. His voice was deep and intimidating, but it made you feel safe and warm. His hand was big and rough, but he held your soft hand so gently, like he was worried about hurting you.
"Oh, thank you. I really appreciate that. Um... could I get your name? My name is (Y/n)." You say with a smile, staring up at him as your other hand comes up to rest on top of his. His cheeks turn a bit red once again as he stares at your hands for a moment before looking back into your eyes.
"I-I'm Clayton..." He says shyly before pulling his hand away and taking a step back. "It was nice to meet you (Y/n). I need to go." He said bluntly, his eyes avoiding yours as he rushed off to his apartment door. For such a large man, he sure was quick. You didn't even have a chance to say anything before you heard his door slam shut. You worried you angered him, but based on his pink cheeks, you assumed that he was just shy.
Over the next month, you would start conversations with him whenever you would see him. He would always stand and listen until you were done talking. Occasionally, you would mention that you were trying to do something in your apartment and would ask what kind of tools you would need. He would tell you, seemingly happy that he could give you advice. However, he never seemed to let you take his advice, because before you could even get the tools you needed, he would be over with his toolbox ready to go.
Need a shelf put up? He did it. Need your sink unclogged? No problem. He got it cleared. Need your lock replaced because your ex found out where you lived? He replaced your entire door and got you a doorbell camera.
He never accepted any money from you, always saying he just wanted to be a good neighbor and make sure you were safe. He did, however, accept food. You always made him a big plate of whatever you were eating that night. He always seemed to enjoy it after he got home, the plates returning to your front door completely clean the next morning.
However, as the fall passed and the winter started, you saw Clayton less and less. Whenever you would see him, he'd look absolutely exhausted, and you had noticed him getting thinner. He also started to occasionally walk around with his cute stubby tail and round ears out due to how little energy he had. You had found out from your other neighbor that Clayton was a werebear, so the winter season made him exhausted all the time. You felt bad for asking for so much of his time while he should have been preparing for hibernation, so you took it upon yourself to make sure he was eating enough.
Every day, you brought a container of food over to his door and left it in front of his door. You would leave a note on the container before knocking and running off so you didn't bother him further. The clean, empty containers would show up in front of your door the next day with a note that just said 'thank you'.
What you didn't know was how much it actually meant to him that you had been helping him in return. He had always struggled with his hibernation, having been raised by a pack of werewolves after his parents adopted him. They did their best, but he was never really taught how to hibernate properly. It didn't help that he had insomnia, which was very inconvenient for the big guy when it came to his hibernation time. Thankfully, during the winter, his construction jobs slowed down a bit, but it still took a lot out of him. Cooking himself dinner at the end of a long day was out of the question, so he usually got take out or nothing at all.
Imagine his surprise when he started getting food dropped off at his door every night. He loved your food. Everything you made was delicious, and he always licked his plate clean. You were so sweet with how you helped take care of him. The smell of the fantastic food you cooked flooding the hallway was amazing, but your scent had him even more entranced.
Ever since you had moved next door, just your scent from the hallway was enough to comfort him. He had already thought you were cute when you moved in, but as time went on, he fell for you even harder. Your more domestic side showing lately had been the killer for him, though. You would check in on him and give him food, a reassuring touch, like the angel you were. He wanted to help take care of you like you took care of him. He wanted you. He needed you. He always had such a hard time leaving your apartment because of how cozy it was. The moment he would walk in, he would feel like he could pass out on the floor and still be comfortable. He wished he could sleep in your orc sized bed with you and show you how much he cares about you.
He would listen unintentionally as you would take a shower or get ready for bed. The walls were so thin, and with his hearing as good as it was, it was impossible for him to ignore your whimpers from the other side of the wall whenever you'd be masturbating. Whenever he had gone in to help you put up a shelf in your bedroom, he could smell the arousal in the air from when you had given yourself an orgasm shortly before he arrived. He struggled to hide his erection the whole time. Just imagining what you did to yourself when you were alone made his dick throb in his jeans. Being able to smell that you were ovulating didn't help.
He knew what everything meant. You were his mate. He just had no idea how to tell you without sounding completely insane. You were just a human. A very soft, sweet human that surely only had the best intentions whenever they would interact. If only he knew how further he was from the truth. You had wanted him just as badly, if not more, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He just seemed shy to you, and you didn't want to scare him off. For such a big guy like him, you had hoped food would win him over. Every time you had him over to help fix something you didn't understand, you would fantasize about him driving his cock into you and letting out all his pent-up frustrations. And cum.
Once you found out he was a werebear, you did some serious research. You learned about how he needed a cozy environment he could use as a 'den' and how much he needed to eat. Werebears didn't sleep 24 hours a day, but they needed at least 10-14 hours of sleep every night to function somewhat normally during the day. They tend to need to eat a lot to keep up a healthy layer of fat. They can also get very, very backed up if they don't have a mate to hibernate with as they typically don't socialize during this time. You didn't know what his apartment looked like, as he had never invited you over, but you wanted to make your home as inviting to him as possible for when he came over. Especially your bedroom.
You were happy you rented in a monster-friendly apartment building due to the fact that you had an orc sized bed from the last place you lived in. It was at least 9' long, and you were always swimming in it, so you always had it loaded with pillows and stuffed animals and soft blankets. You figured that if you got some extra large blankets for him to use, he would be more inclined to come over.
But lately, he was so tired he had let his ears and tail show, his arms and chest extra hairy as it peaked out of his clothing. He was trying to conserve energy, and you noticed him not snoring much at night when he should have been sleeping, but still going to work in the morning with dark circles under his eyes. You also noticed that as the next full moon approached, he was struggling more and more to hold it together. He was nearly falling asleep standing up and more shuffled than walked to his apartment. You started making more and more food for him to leave by his door for when he got home.
Tonight was a full moon, so you knew you had to make him a lot of food because he was going to fully tranform tonight. The containers had started coming back broken with apology notes and money attached, so tonight you had gotten some disposable containers. You made him a huge spread of various roasted vegetables and fish and put all the containers in front of his door, saying that if he needed to, he could crash at your place.
That leads you to this moment, you standing outside Clayton's door. You heard him stumble home about 20 minutes ago and growling for about 15 minutes until a loud thud hit the floor. It shook your apartment, and you instantly rushed over to see if he was okay. You noticed the door was cracked open and hesitantly pushed the door open. Your jaw dropped as you saw his living conditions. It was clean, but barely had any furniture to keep clean in the first place. All he had was a large futon in the livingroom and a TV with a gaming set up.
You hear groaning coming from what you assume to be the bedroom as you carefully creep in. You peer down the hallway to see a large furry mass in the dark. A mess of ripped apart food containers were scattered down the hallway to in front of the bed. You gingerly made your way down the hallway as you tried to get a better look at him. You could tell he was already fully transformed, and it almost sounded like he was... whining? As you got closer, you noticed that he was so big half his giant furry body was hanging off the bed. He was facing away from you, but you could hear him panting and whining as his nubby tail wiggled. He was a giant ball of fur and you slowly walked up to his face. His head was huge when he was transformed. He looked like an adorable grizzlybear, minus the giant sharp claws.
"C-clayton?" His eyes snap open at the sound of your voice. Your sweet, beautiful voice. "Are you okay?... I heard a loud thud, and your door was open..." You were so kind. He couldn't believe you actually walked in here to check on him. He didn't know what to do. He was embarrassed at how his place looked. He had been so tired lately he hadn't wanted to do anything special for his hibernation, but he was regretting it now.
He bashfully looks away from you and scoots his head closer to you. You crouch down and gently run your fingers through his fur. His fur was so soft you gently rest you head on top of his as she scratched the fur around his neck. He lets out an odd growl that almost sounds like a purr as he nuzzles into your chest. He inhales your comforting scent deeply. You smell so sweet... He had to carefully pull his face away from your chest before he tried to rip your tank top off. He had noticed you weren't wearing a bra and wanted to know what your breast looked like so badly. He caught himself staring at your chest before looking up at you with his beautiful golden eyes.
"C-can I crash with you? Please?... this is bad..." His voice was hoarse as he groaned. He regret pushing his body so much and ignoring his need for a proper den. He knew your place would be perfect based on what he had seen so far. Not only that, but he would be able to convince you to share your large bed with him. It had been so long since he could cuddle anyone during hibernation...
"Of course you can. I just need you to follow me." You said softly, and you went to stand up. He stood up with you, and you couldn't help but freeze for a moment as you took in his large form. He was nearly 9' tall, staring down at you as he breathed heavily. All he had on were some boxers that were way too small once he was transformed. You could see the outline of his thick cock through the fabric. He put one of his giant hands on your shoulder and sleepily followed you next door to your apartment, being sure to at least close his door before he leaves.
Upon stepping into your apartment, he has to use his hands on your wall to stabilize himself. Walking through the threshold of your home and being hit with a wall of your scent was overwhelming. He stumbled through your apartment as carefully as possible, trying not to knock anything over. You had to guide him to your bedroom, him ducking a bit through the doorways. As he saw your bed, he let out a sigh of relief. The mass of pillows and giant blankets looked so welcoming.
"I-I hope it'll be okay. At least better than your place..." You let out a soft giggle as you opened up the bed more for him to crawl in. He didn't waste another moment before carefully crawling onto your bed. The bed dipped under his immense weight. You thanked yourself for getting a reinforced bedframe when you got your giant bed.
"Oh fuck." He groaned out as he fully laid down, his body going limp as he finally felt his body fully relax for the first time in ages. Fully stretched out, he's just as tall as the bed, but all the pillows and blankets with the softness of the mattress are perfect. He feels like he's in heaven as he turns onto his side and closes his eyes. His breathing began to get heavier, and you assume he's already starting to fall asleep. You grab the biggest blanket you have from your couch and as you lay it over him, his eyes slowly open. He stares at you for a moment as your body is illuminated in the moonlight peering in from your window. He hadn't really gotten a good look at you yet, and it was a good thing that he didn't. He wouldn't have been able to make it over to your apartment if he noticed you were only wearing a tanktop and tight boxer shorts. He could already feel himself getting hard under the covers, your scent overwhelming as he let out a soft groan.
"Clayton? Are you okay?" You ask with a worried tone. Your caring eyes are so beautiful in the moonlight. In a flash, you were pulled under him while letting out a loud yelp. He was proped up on his elbow on his side next to you, his other hand on your hip as he leaned over you. He held your body so close to his, trying his best not to rip your clothes off of you immediately. He leans down and nuzzles his face into your neck so all he can smell is you. He was annoyed at how your scent was so comforting but wouldn't let him sleep. He was pent-up, and you were his mate that made a den just for him... he needed to do something or he felt like he was gonna explode.
He moved one of his knees in between yours as he stared into your eyes, running his hand from your hip to your thigh to guide it to hook over his leg. Goosebumps appear all over your body as you feel his sharp claws drag across your skin. As you were held there on your back, you could feel his hard cock against your thigh. Fuck you were turned on. You didn't know what to do but stare back into his glowing eyes and follow his lead. He leaned in close to your face, bearing his sharp teeth as he struggles to find his words.
"I really need your help tonight (Y/n)..." He mumbles as he moves from smelling your hair to burying his nose in your collarbone.
"Look, I'm flattered... v-very flattered, but I'm not really a fan of one night stands." You say nervously, knowing that you'd want way more than just one night with him. His large, rough tongue rakes up the side of your neck, making you let out an involuntary moan.
"Who said I wanted a one night stand?" His hot breath brushes against your neck, causing goosebumps to go down your body. "I want you.. All of you... Always." His teeth ran across the skin in the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply. "If you want me, I'll stay... please..." He pleads with a deep growl. He sounds so desperate for you. You wouldn't have thought the stoic man next door would be reduced to a horny, cuddly mess, but here you are. "My mate..." He growls as he palms one of your breasts through your thin tank top, careful not to scratch you with his claws. The pressure of his body against yours is overwhelming in the best way, every touch lighting you on fire as you couldn't help but let out soft moans.
"P-please stay Clayton..." You begged as your self-control went out the window, grinding your hot mound against his leg. Your words and actions made him suck in a breath, pausing as he stared at you. He suddenly turned onto his back, pulling you on top of him to straddle his waist. He used his claws to rip a huge hole in your shorts, exposing your dripping wet pussy. You pulled your tanktop off quickly before he ripped that off while he ripped away his boxers. His massive cock sprang to life, smacking against your wet pussy lips softly. He pulled himself up to bring you in for a kiss, groaning as he
You bit your lip before grinding your cunt down along his dick. It was too dark for you to see properly, but his dick felt similar to a werewolf's dick, but much bigger. You hadn't taken someone that big before, so you were secretly happy that you were in the middle of masturbating when you heard him come home...
"Oh fuck." He strained his head back against the bed as he moaned. His hands reached up to hold your hips in place, rolling his hips back against you to get more friction against his sensitive cock. His hands were massive, both of them nearly completely encircling your waist as he held you in place. He fought against the urge to use you like a living fleshlight immediately. He felt like he was getting high off the scent of your arousal.
You brace your hands on his soft forearms as you find your footing by his sides. His waist is too big for you to straddle normally, but you don't care. You're gonna do your best. You were getting impatient, as he could feel from how his cock was completely drenched from your juices. He raises his head up to look at you, letting out soft whimpers as you pull your heat away from his needy dick. You earn a low growl from him as you decided to grab his cock and line his dripping tip up with your aching hole. His grip on your hips tightens, and you feel his claws threaten to break your soft skin. He applauded his self control in his crazed state, although every fiber of his being was telling him to just bury his cock deep inside you now. He needed you so badly.
You press yourself down on his dick, your arousal and his precum acting as lube. His cock slides into your pussy easier than he expected, but you're still struggling to take his size. His cock was so thick it stretched your pussy to the absolute limit and you were loving every second. You had only taken him about halfway, and yiu didn'tknow how much more you could take. You were trying to hold your moans as much as possible, but the attempt was futile. You groaned out in pleasure as the shape of his cock rubbed against your g-spot with every movement.
Clayton stared at you hungrily, growl in his throat that resonated through his whole body. You could swear you felt his dick vibrate, but then again, it might have been your walls fluttering to accommodate his size.
He suddenly snaps his hips up into yours, his hands on your hips keeping you in place as he buries his cock into you up to his knot. The drastic shock to your body made you scream out in pleasure. Your pussy stung as you felt the bulge at the base of his cock press against your pussy. You feel him shudder under you as you clenched your pussy around his length. You're given very little time to adjust before he starts moving your hips for you.
"F-fuck, I'm sorry... I can't control myself right now... you drive me fucking crazy... you're so fucking tight..." He growls as he watches your boobs bounce in front of him. He may have you on top, but he's the one in control. He holds your hips so firmly it may leave bruises, using your body as his personal sex toy. He is so desperate to cum, wanting nothing more than to fill you up and get you pregnant.
He wanted you to be the mom to his cubs. You were so sweet and kind. You could teach them how to make a den much better than he could. You felt so amazing stretched out on his dick. You were just so addicting.
Every movement he made you do made you feel just as crazy as him. His cock hit all the right places, your pussy quivering around him as you felt yourself getting close to cumming. Every slight curve and bend of his dick felt like heaven as he bounced you faster to chase his own release.
"I'm so close. I'm not pulling out. I want you to take my knot and have my cub..." He grunts, whimpering as you feel his dick twitch inside you. He's close, and so are you.
"Y-yes please! I want your cum in me, please! Make me cum!" You beg him, completely giving into the pleasure. You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close it almost hurt.
"Rub your clit for me, honey." He orders and you don't think twice before one of your hands finds your clit, your fingers working your sensitive clit while he works you. It only takes a few more seconds before you throw your head back, moaning like a bitch in heat as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. As you begin to cum, he snaps his hips up to meet yours, thrusting his huge knot into your already strained pussy. The rough action causes you to scream, squirting all over his crotch as your quivering pussy milked his cock. His dick throbbed inside you as he let out a roar, his claws scratching your hips while he came deeper than anyone had before. He filled your plugged up pussy so much your belly bulged slightly. You both struggle to catch your breath as his grip on you slowly relaxed. He couldn't help but stare at you and your beautiful body, your sweat shining in the moonlight through the window.
"I hope you're okay... I didn't hurt you, did I?" He groans out, a bit worried that in his haze he went too far. Your exhausted giggle eases him slightly.
"I'm more than okay..." You admit with a grin. Clayton chuckles in response as he feels his knot start to go down, letting him slip his cock out of you. You whimper and whine as he pulls his cock out, suddenly feeling every empty as his cum pours out of your used hole. He lets out a relieved sigh as he turns onto his side and pulls you close to him.
"I'm glad you're okay..." He whispers to you as he stares into your eyes with adoration mixed with exhaustion. You can't help but smile as his large body and thick fur make you feel like you have a living weighted blanket. His presence was just so comforting to you.
"I hope you don't mind hibernating with me." You say. He pulls you in close as he arranges the pillows and blankets around the two of you, using his arm as a pillow for you. He finally pulls the blanket over the two of you and wraps his other arm around you.
"Honey, I don't think I could have hibernated without you..." He says softly, ending in a yawn as you both settled in to get some sleep. As you two embraced each other, sweaty and satisfied, you couldn't stop thinking about how Clayton would be a really good dad. You secretly hope his seed already got you pregnant as you fell asleep cuddled into his chest. He took another good look at your gorgeous face before drifting off to sleep himself. Both of you were soon dreaming of your belly swollen with his cub and little kids running around.
He could get used to this.
896 notes · View notes
monstersflashlight · 2 days
Note
Thinking about your take on (any) monster eating an aphrodisiac candy on accident or like an accidental aphrodisiac pollen ingestion (from like just sniffing around scavenging/hunting) - if that makes sense? Just imagine them losing a bit of control, being so needy, and only wanting “it” to go away yet it feels too good to not be inside the reader… yea I’m totally normal about this.
I can’t wait to see what you come up with this and take your the time, make sure you are well rested and taking care of yourself! 💙
Hi anon! Thank you so much for your kind words, I'm trying to be kinder to myself and it's always nice to have a reminder. That said, I hope you like his little story I came up with. I went overboard with this. I don’t know where this came from but dang if it wasn’t fun. Hope you enjoy! <3
Wrong candy, right hole
Werewolf x fem!witch || dub-con, accidental drug ingestion, size kink, oral sex, knotting, breeding, squirting, lowkey somnophilia || tw: there’s mentions of anxiety and a panic attack
“I’m so fucking hungry, are you done?” He pushed his face against the side of your head, almost bent in half to do so, looking over your shoulder. When he pressed against your space so closely, you felt so tiny. Fucking werewolves being as big as a refrigerator.
“Wait a lil bit, dude. I need to finish this so I can send it today.” You told him, pushing his snot away from you. You were trying to pack the last products of the day before going for dinner. You told him that at least three times already, but he was so damn impatient. You kinda loved him for it, he was always so eager for everything you did together, it was charming in a way.
“But I’m hungry…” He whined, making you bite your lip to hide a smile. Your best friend was so cute when he was acting all puppy like. You though werewolves would be more dominant or something, but he was just a big furry himbo. And you had a bit of a crush on him, but you weren’t going to sexualize him that way. You knew part of the reason you had a crush was because of how big and imposing he was, how furry his body was… You had a bit of a monster kink, and well, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you didn’t say anything about it.
You pointed at the counter and told him: “Eat some candy, they are over the counter.” He let out a happy sound as he marched to get them. You turned around in time to see him eating some of your last shipping products. Oh fuck.
“Uh, oh,” you mustered. This was bad, really bad.
“What?” He asked, opening his mouth wide, candy crumbs falling off. Gross.
You look at him with what you hoped was a sorry face. “You shouldn’t have taken that.” He didn’t eat the candies you were pointing to, he ate the ones your client specially asked for.
His face fell instantly, the worry in your tone not as hidden as you thought. “What? Why not?” You could see the gears in his brain turning, thinking about all the bad possibilities.
“It’s not candy,” you mustered, trying to sound nonchalant about it, but calculating how much time you had before it started to make an effect on him. Fuck, you didn’t know if it was going to be enough, it should be fast. Fuck.
“What?! You said I could take one.” He yelled at you, his voice growly and sexy, you tried not to think about that last part. Your lady parts would have to wait.
“The other ones, damn it. Now I have to make a new batch.” You tried not to sound annoyed about it, but those took so much effort to make… Damn it.
He looked at you like you were dumb and asked: “What were those, then?”
“Aphrodisiac candies,” you confessed slowly. The clock was ticking and you didn’t know how he would react, you normally provided them for other species, never for wolves.
“What?! WHY DID YOU HAVE THEM THERE?” He asked, starting to panic. You tried to calm him down by touching his chest, making him match your breathing. He complied, but with great effort. The clock was still ticking.
“It was an order. I was gonna pack them! But you ate them.” You kept breathing slowly, his big furry paw now on your chest, trying to breathe together. You learned about that when he had a panic attack the second time you two meet, and it had been helpful so many other times.
“What do I do? Give me the antidote,” he asked. You looked up at him with what you hoped was a reassuring smile.
“I- There’s none.” You tried to stop him from getting away, but he pushed you lightly and stepped back, his paws going through his head, frustration and anxiety very present on his features.
“What?!” He exclaimed. “I need to go. I need to get home, get my fleshlight. I don’t know. What do I do?” He sounded more panicked by the minute. You felt very sorry for him and even worse because it was technically your fault.
And then a light bulb turned on your head. “Or I could… I could help you,” you told him, looking to the ground, suddenly shy. You just offered your best friend to have sex with him to ride out the aphrodisiac he accidentally ate. Your brain wasn’t in the best place, but you couldn’t avoid the wetness between your thighs thinking about fucking him.
He turned to face you completely, his eyes so big it looked comical. “What?”
“Just… Just if you want to,” you muttered. Each second that passed it seemed like a bad idea. He was your best friend, he didn’t see you like that.
And then he deadpanned: “Are you saying you want me to knot you?” You blushed from your toes to your hair, hearing him talk about knotting made your pussy twitch and juices flow, you could feel the wetness on your panties growing uncomfortable.
“Dude when you say it like that.” You looked at him intently expecting him to say something else, but when he didn’t, you answered truthfully: “Yes, okay. Yes! I want you to knot me.”
“Am I taking advantage of you if we do this?” He asked, his tone worried. That made you confirm your choices. Of course you would do that for him, he was your best friend and the best werewolf you knew. He was better than any man, human, warlock or any other species you knew. He was just… him.
“No, I want this. I… I might have a bit of a monster kink…” You blushed again, and he smiled at you smugly. “Am I taking advantage of you?” You asked, matching his worried tone.
“No. I… I’ve had a crush on you since forever.” You looked at him perplexed, completely shook, what the fuck? “Your fucking candy also has some truth serum or what?” He asked and you remembered that yes, it did, fuck.
“Maybe… It’s to make the communication between partners better,” you explained. It sounded bad to your own ears, like a silly excuse for what was just happening, but you didn’t care. He had a crush on you. On you!
“Good lord, I’m never eating anything you give me ever again.” You chuckled at that, and he followed. But it was short lived. His laugh broke with a whine: “Fuck, it hurts.” He was palming his cock through the fabric of his pants and you could feel saliva pooling at your mouth. Dang you wanted to suck him off badly.
“Shit. Yeah, it should be starting to make effect.” He looked back at you with full on puppy eyes, making your heart constrict and your pussy get wetter. You pushed him backwards, and he let you guide him to the back room. You had a mattress there for when your long potions had to be made, so you could take a nap. You thanked the Goddess and pushed him on it. “Does this work?” You asked, sitting on his lap, you could see the outline of his dick and you wanted to explore every inch of him. He nodded eagerly, his paws grabbing your hips to grind your covered pussy against his dick. He whined and let out a long groan, a wet patch forming in his pants. “Did you just come?” The smile on your face was so big it hurt your cheeks.
He looked at you embarrassed. “Yes, fuck. What did you give me?” His hands kept moving your hips to grind against his dick and you were starting to lose your mind. The friction was so good you were close yourself.
You groaned and told him: “You ate it yourself. It’s… It’s supposed to make your sex experiences extremely pleasurable. And maybe… Maybe improve your stamina?” It wasn’t a question, it did improve stamina greatly, that’s why you never gave it to wolves or other species with already good stamina, their partners couldn’t hold that much time.
“I’m a werewolf, I already had enough stamina!” His words agreed with your inner turmoil. Fuck, his clothed dick against your wet panties felt wonderful. “Take off your clothes or I’ll rip them.” His low growl made you groan and more juices pooled on your panties. “Fuck, I can smell you. I can smell how wet you are.” You got up from his lap and started to get your clothes off. You were being too slow because he growled and tried to grab you. You stepped back and took care of the rest rapidly.
The second your clothes were off you, he was launching himself at you, his face going directly for your pussy. You felt his long tongue inside of you, so long and so inhuman that it was hitting every single place inside of you that made your toes curl. You kept cursing as your hands found his fur, you pulled and groaned as he ate you out like a desperate animal. You could see his hips grinding against the bed, he was probably making a mess. In your foggy brain, the pleasure hit a max level and you exploded, coming against his face as he licked every single inch of you.
He pulled back, his face contorted in what you only could describe as feral grin. He ripped off his own clothes, the sound of tearing fabric excited you. And then you saw his dick, and you twitched. He was so fucking big, his tip was red and big, leaking so much it looked shiny. But what scared you the most was the knot at the base, so big it was almost like your whole fist. Dang. You weren’t sure that was going to fit inside of you.
“I’m not sure that’s….” You tried to push away on the bed, but he grabbed your legs and pulled, positioning yourself perfectly for him. Your pussy on display and your legs over his shoulders.
“It will fit. I’ll make it fit.” His voice had an edge of danger and you shivered.
Your pussy was sensitive after the orgasm he just gave you, so when he pushed inside of you in one hard thrust you almost lost it. You arched your back and screamed at the top of your lungs. His mouth found yours, and he started kissing you, more teeth than lips. He didn’t wait, he didn’t let you warm up, he started fucking you hard and fast, your whole body moving when he pushed inside. When he bottomed out, you could feel his knot against your entrance, trying to slip inside, an insistent pressure driving you wild. He grabbed your hips and pulled them up, the perfect angle to hit your G-spot with every thrust. You were seeing stars as he grunted and growled against your open mouth. You weren’t kissing anymore, he was just licking the inside of your open mouth as you lost your body to pleasure.
He came inside you. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe even four, you stopped feeling it when it started to be too much. You could feel his cum moving inside of you with each thrust. But he kept fucking you, using you like a toy for his pleasure, and you couldn’t even blame him for being rough because you were enjoying it a lot more than you should. You did that to him, but good lord if it didn’t feel like paradise. You lost count of how many orgasms you had as he pounded you, your body at his mercy.
When you thought it was impossible to feel more pleasure, you felt him slow down, pressing and pressing, and pushing and trying to stretch you impossibly wide. You thrashed under him, there was no way, but he didn’t mind your struggling as he forced his knot inside of you. You let out a cry as it fitted inside, you felt like he was breaking you apart in the best possible way. You didn’t know it could feel like that, you didn’t know it could feel so good. Your voice gave out before your body did, your scream turned silent as he bit and licked your neck, probably leaving a line of hickeys there. You didn’t care. It felt so good. Too good.
And then he pushed on your lower abdomen, making you feel so full and so weird, but it was so hot. You had so much cum in you, a bump in your lower abdomen indicating he came so many times you were knocked up for sure. You would need to make contraceptive potions tomorrow, but for now you could enjoy the feel of his cum inside of you. So much, so hot. It felt like molten lava was melting your insides as you came and came. And he came and came.
He moved his knot against your G-spot over and over, making you want to cry because of the pleasure. And then you felt the telltale sign that you were going to squirt. It only happened a couple times before, never with somebody else, but when you tried to alert him, your arms and legs wouldn’t respond. You could just lay there in silence as he took his pleasure on you, off you. You squirted, soaking his fur and making him stop for a second, surprised. His answering growl was so feral you felt it in your whole body. He came again. And again. And again.
At some point you passed out. Your body gave out. But you guessed he kept fucking you, the candy was supposed to last for hours. Well… You trusted him, he could fuck your asleep body as much as he wanted.
873 notes · View notes
heich0e · 2 days
Text
"can i call you later?"
the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.
"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"
rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.
you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.
rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.
"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"
your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.
"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.
you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.
"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.
you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.
"my train is coming," you say.
he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.
you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.
"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.
you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.
you call back to him just before you step into the station.
"rintarou—"
there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.
you smile.
"—call me later."
he calls you almost every night after that.
even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.
even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.
even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.
you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.
"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.
"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.
"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"
rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.
"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."
you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.
you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.
"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."
you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"
rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.
"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."
you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.
"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.
you fell in love through those phone calls.
you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.
you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.
he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.
"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.
you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.
in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.
"oop—hello?"
you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.
the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.
"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.
you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.
"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)
"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.
"i know," he replies.
it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.
you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.
"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"
you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.
he tilts his head.
"—wanna join me?"
636 notes · View notes
formula-nyoom · 19 hours
Text
I'm Proud of You
Pairing: Platonic!Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader
Summary: Being the youngest and newest driver to the grid is not an easy adjustment to make and it ends up taking a toll on you. Thankfully some of the other drivers on the grid are there to look out for you.
A/N: Was going to wait till Saturday to post this, but I had a shit day today so I decided to post it now. Hope you enjoy!
~~~
No one really knew what Mercedes was thinking when they announced that they were signing you, an F2 rookie who placed 6th in the Formula 2 Championship, as the one to take the 2nd Mercedes seat. Everyone expected you to be named a reserve driver, so that you could prepare for the jump to F1. Yet here you were, jumping straight into the deep end. Even after you heard the news that you would be racing in Formula One, you were left more with shock and confusion rather than excitement. 
Sure, you had done a couple of test drives for Mercedes and had participated in an F1 practice session or two, but you didn’t think that was enough to put you in contention for a Formula One seat. 
But the media thought otherwise, and so did Mercedes. 
Both your friends and family tried to reassure you that you were good enough to race in Formula One, and you had seen countless interviews of Toto Wolf saying that he had made the right decision in signing you.
But none of that could take away the fact that all eyes were now on you. 
The first female to race in Formula One, and now the youngest on the grid.
The season hadn’t even started and yet you felt like Atlas holding the world weight of pressure that was placed upon your shoulders. You now have something to prove. And everyone was waiting for you to either fly or fall.
Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find the courage to cross the turnstile that led into the paddock during the first race weekend of the season. Crossing over would make everything real. And you would be doing it alone, as both your family and your manager weren't able to get to the track till later in the day. 
“Did you forget your badge on the first day?” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Charles and Pierre.
 “You can just jump over the gate. Yuki does it all the time.” Pierre said. 
 “No, I have my badge…I’m just nervous to enter the paddock.” You said, motioning with your head to the turnstiles.
 “What makes you so nervous?” Charles asked.
“There’s a lot of people. And cameras. And people with cameras. I feel like I’m gonna get swarmed as soon as my foot crosses the entrance.” You said.
 “You’re not wrong. The media doesn’t really know the definition of personal space.” Charles said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you want, I can act as a buffer and draw the attention away while Pierre helps you get past.”
 “Would that work? I just want to get to the Mercedes hospitality.”
“Oh trust me, the media loves Charles. They’ll be too focused on getting pictures of him to see us walk by.” Pierre said. You looked back at the people past the entrance and there seemed to be more than when you last looked. 
 “Well…if you’re sure it will work then we might as well try.” You said. Charles smiled and gave you a nod. He then took the sunglasses that were hanging on his hat and put them on before entering the paddock. Immediately, the people that had cameras flocked to Charles and started to take his picture as he tried to walk through the paddock. You and Pierre waited a couple moments to build enough distance between you and Charles before the two of you entered the paddock. You clutched the straps of your bag tightly, expecting the nearby paparazzi to turn around and immediately start taking pictures of you and Pierre, but they were too focused on Charles.  
Pierre’s hand hovered over your shoulder as he tried to block you from most of the cameras while guiding you through the paddock. While the two of you managed to pass Charles without getting noticed, you couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic, seeing Charles surrounded by so many people trying to take his picture. Eventually, you and Pierre managed to make it to the Mercedes hospitality building.
“Is it always going to be like this?” You asked Pierre.
 “Unfortunately, yes. Especially since you’re the newest on the grid. I recommend you invest in a good pair of sunglasses. But I’m proud of you for getting past your first swarm of paparazzi.” Pierre said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and swatted his hand away as Charles walked up to the two of you.
 “Whew! Thank god Lewis walked in. I felt like those reporters and paparazzi would never leave.” Charles said.
 “Sorry for making you go through that.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. 
“Pas de soucis. I’m used to it and know how to handle them. Though I will advise that you never enter the paddock by yourself. The reporters are like vultures.” Charles said. “Anyway, we will see you at the press conference, no?”
 “Yep. I’ll see you there.” You said. Charles patted your shoulder before him and Pierre headed to their own team's hospitality. 
~~~
You were beginning to hate the press conferences that you had to go to. Any question that was directed towards you involved your performance on track, or lack thereof as some reporters like to put it. You were getting tired of having to answer questions that made you feel like a failure.
“This question is for (Y/N). We’re now five races into the season and you’ve been continuously out qualified and out placed by your teammate, George? Is there a certain struggle that you’re having with the car that may be the cause of this?”
If you could walk away from this question, you would. But instead you stayed in your seat and picked up the microphone next to you. Damn Mercedes PR training.
 “There’s still some learning with the car. The engineers have said that the car isn’t up to the standards they want it to be, so I am struggling a bit on track.” You said, giving your best PR approved answer that you could manage.
“But would it be safe to say that you are under performing at Mercedes in comparison to your teammate?” The reporter asked. You tried to steal your expression and act like the comment didn’t bother you.
 “What kind of question is that?” It wasn’t you that asked it, but Lando, who was sitting to your right. You looked at him with some confusion. So did the reporter.
“Is there something you would like to add, Lando?”
“Yea. You can’t say she’s underperforming when she’s a rookie that has only completed five races.” Lando said, an upset expression clear on his face. The reporter cleared his throat.
 “I’m just saying, some have doubts that Mercedes were too hasty in signing an F2 rookie and I wanted to know if that was being reflected in (Y/N)’s driving.” The reporter said, trying to control the situation
 “I think we already know your opinion on Mercedes' decision based on the questions you ask.” Carlos said, who was sitting next to Lando. “I agree with Lando that it’s unfair to judge (Y/N) based on her first five races.”
 “I’d say she’s actually doing pretty good for a rookie, considering she’s been able to score points in two out of the 5 races she’s done so far.” Lando said.
 “Much more than you have ever done.” Carlos said to the reporter. You tried to hide the smile that was slowly forming on your face but inevitably failed as you picked your microphone back up.
“To my two fellow drivers points, I think you’re discounting me too early. I will admit that there is still a learning curve and with the continuous upgrades that Mercedes keeps bringing to the car, I am constantly having to adjust to all the new additions while also trying to get used to driving a Formula One car every other weekend.” You said, making direct eye contact with the reporter. “But I will eventually get used to the car. And when I do, I think I will be able to match George and possibly start out qualifying.”
That seemed to silence the reporter, as he sat back down. It also seemed to signify the end of the press conference as reporters started to pack their things and you and the other drivers sitting on the couch with you got up and left the room.
“Mate, I’m so proud of you and how you handled that reporter.” Lando said once you were out of the room. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.
 “I was ready to walk out of the press conference when I heard that question. Why do these reporters always have to compare me to George?”
 “Because that's what they do. All of us get compared to our teammates because our teammates are seen as our biggest competition.” Carlos said. “You’re gonna get it more because you’re new.”
“Just remember that you can refuse to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable.” Lando said. 
 “Even the sexist ones?” You asked. Carlos and Lando nodded their heads.
“Especially the sexist ones.” Carlos said.
 “Better yet, I’ll answer them for you in the most ridiculous manner so that way they’ll stop asking you questions like that.” Lando said, making you laugh.
~~~
So many more races. Too many races. How does a Formula One driver get through all these races and have a chance to calm down? You were used to things going fast, but lately you just wanted a chance to slow down and breathe. 
That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in an empty VIP room, looking out the window at a mostly empty racetrack. Phone in hand. Staring at the clock that displayed the timezone back at home.
2:00AM. Your parents are definitely asleep right now. It’s not a good time to call them, no matter how much you want to. 
You were so focused on staring at your phone, you didn’t notice that Max had walked in.
“Sadly I don’t think drivers count as VIPs at the races they have to participate in.” Max said as he sat down next to you, a Redbull in his hand.
 “It’s the only place that I can find privacy and some peace and quiet.” You said still staring at your phone.
2:01AM.
You turned your phone off and let out a sigh, placing it down next to you.
 “Something the matter?” Max asked. You hesitated. You didn’t want to burden a 3-time World Champion with your upset thoughts, that was for your non-existent therapist. But then again, maybe talking to someone who has been in your position before may make you feel a bit better.
“I haven’t found a good time to call my parents since the start of the season.” You said. “They were able to make it to my first race, which was amazing. I was really glad they could come…but with so many races on the calendar, it’s hard for them to come to all of them, and all the changing time zones makes it hard to find a good time to call them.” You told him. “I miss talking to them.”
Max looked at you, took in how you were hugging your knees. Max sometimes forgets that you're now the youngest driver on the grid. On the track he sees you as competition, but now he sees you as the overwhelmed rookie that you looked like right now.
“I understand what you're feeling. It does get overwhelming a lot of times.” He said. You turned to him.
 “How do you deal with it?”
“No matter what country we are in, I try to find a day or time where I can get the farthest away from being a race car driver. A spot that’s farthest away from the track where I’m not “Max Verstappen, The Red Bull Driver”, but just “Max”.” He said.
 “Don’t you get recognized wherever you go?” You asked
“Absolutely. But being away from the track, even for an hour, makes me less overwhelmed. And in regards to wanting to talk to your parents, yes finding a time to communicate is hard, but sometimes you just have to throw timezones out the window and call your parents. Even if you can only talk to them for five minutes, it’s still five minutes that you get to talk to them.” Max explained. 
You thought about what Max said. It would make you feel a bit guilty, waking your parents up in the middle of the night just because you wanted to talk to them. But at the same time, sometimes they’re the only people that could make you feel better. You looked back down at your phone.
2:05 AM
You’d be ok with just five minutes.
 “I think I’m gonna call my parents.” You said to Max. He smiled and gave you a nod before standing up.
 “I’ll let you have your privacy. But my driver’s room is open if you want to talk about anything except racing.” Max said before leaving the room. You smiled at him before calling your parents.
~~~
Finally you had finished a race with what you thought was a good race result. P6 was your highest placement so far this season and it was something you should be proud of. But even if you thought it was a good result, you knew that people were going to comment that George had gotten P4, placing ahead of you again. To you, it felt like no matter how high you climbed up the grid, if George finished in front of you, your result wasn’t something to be proud of. 
You were knocked out of your thoughts by someone bumping your shoulder. It was Oscar walking alongside you. The fact that he was looking directly at you made you assume the bump was intentional to get your attention.
“Proud of you.” Oscar said. “This was just like that one season of Formula 2 we raced in together.”
You scoffed but smiled.
 “Yea, except I now have the knowledge not to shunt the car into the back of yours.” You said. You spent most of thid race chasing Oscar’s rear wing and were glad that you didn’t do what you had just said.
“That time was an accident. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Oscar said. The two of you stopped walking as you got closer to where the podium interviews were taking place. The two of you watched as Charles was getting interviewed about his winning result. 
“So am I gonna see you up on that podium this season?” Oscar asked. You didn’t want to shake your head, but your body acted on instinct. You have been shaking your head a lot these days.
 “That seems unlikely. I haven’t been able to match George’s pace at all and he keeps out qualifying me.” You said. Oscar looked at you confused.
 “What are you on about? You were only 2 seconds off George and that was only because I was in between the two of you.” He said. You sighed.
“Yea but it was still 2 seconds behind George. It doesn’t matter how much time is between the two of us, if I’m behind him that’s all the media is going to care about.” You said. “I’ll never have the pace to pass him.”
“Hey!” Oscar grabbed your shoulders so that you would face him. “You have the pace. You’ve been building it up this whole season. At the start you were what? 10 seconds behind him? Now you’re two. Soon there’s going to be no gap because you’ll be ahead of him at some point. It’s bound to happen.”
Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing down, or the fact that Oscar was saying something you had been wanting to hear from your race engineer, or your team princpal, or hell, even it’s something the media should be noticing: that you’re catching up and proving your pace. Oscar’s words were making you feel like you belonged on the grid.
 “You think so?” You asked, needing the confirmation. 
“I know so. Screw what everyone else says.” Oscar said. “Are you proud of your P6?”
 You looked back at your car, then at the car of your teammate’s before your eyes landed back at Charles. You’d be in his spot at some point this season, you just knew it.
 “Yea. I’m proud of myself.”
503 notes · View notes
ceesimz · 2 days
Text
We're All We Need Today
Tumblr media
Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff. It's been a while since I last posted and I find myself riddled with nerves about posting stories again now, so (and I never do this because I cringe at myself) if you do like this story, please let me know in whatever way suits you because I'm seriously struggling with writer's anxiety right now and I don't have the foggiest idea how to get out of it😅
It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.
Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.
"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.
"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"
"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.
She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'
"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."
Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?
This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.
This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.
"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"
"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.
"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.
"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.
"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.
"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."
You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.
Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?
What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.
No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.
Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.
There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.
For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.
And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.
Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.
Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.
And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.
There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.
"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"
As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.
"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"
At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.
"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.
"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.
"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."
"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.
"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."
You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.
Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.
You were only human after all.
"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."
Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.
You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.
"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.
"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.
"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."
With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.
You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.
Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.
Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.
"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"
"Yep, just get it done with. Please."
You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.
"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"
Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?
"Yeah, it's fine."
The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.
The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.
"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.
"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.
"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."
You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.
"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"
"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.
"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."
And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.
You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.
"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."
"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.
"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."
Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.
"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.
"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.
"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.
"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"
That one took your breath a little.
"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.
"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"
"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."
Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.
It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.
"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.
"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."
Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.
"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."
You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.
Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.
"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."
"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.
"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.
It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.
Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.
"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."
That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.
No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.
"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."
Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.
There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.
"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.
"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.
"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.
"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."
"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."
"I will talk to her. Don't worry."
You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.
The only thing you could do now, was wait.
That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.
Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.
So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.
"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.
Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...
"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.
Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.
Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.
"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.
"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.
She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.
A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.
"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."
Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.
"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."
Hm, not too bad of a start.
"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.
"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."
With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.
"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."
Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.
"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.
"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."
"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.
"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."
She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.
"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."
Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.
"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."
A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.
"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.
"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"
Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.
"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.
Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.
"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.
"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.
"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.
The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.
But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.
"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.
"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.
In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.
You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.
"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.
"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."
Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.
"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."
You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.
"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.
"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"
"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.
"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.
She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.
"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"
It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.
But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.
"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."
Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.
"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."
Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.
"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"
It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.
"We'll be okay, Ale."
Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.
Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.
She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.
That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.
"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.
"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.
"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."
"What's that?" You hummed.
"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.
That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.
"Thank god for who?"
"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."
"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."
With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.
"She really got through to you, then?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely. She beat my ass."
648 notes · View notes
saeist · 1 day
Text
it’s complicated ── bakugo k. (3.4k) ⊹ ࣪ ˖ part one
“kats..” you murmur
“yeah?”
“what are we exactly?”
your voice cuts through the air. you can feel bakugo’s grip tighten around your body. like he froze in his spot right next to you in his bed.
“well, what do you want us to be?” his voice is gentle, yet there's an underlying tension. bakugo uses his free hand to tuck some hair that was getting in the way of your face. his thumb slowly caressing the apples of your cheeks as he stares into your eyes, bracing (and dreading) for your answer
this time you stay quiet. unsure how to answer or better yet, unsure how to get your point across to your... friend? semi lover? your situationship
you know yourself that you do like bakugo. again, he might be rough around the edges but you've learned to look past that and see him for who he is
bakugo is a lot more than what he shows on the surface
and you've been given the privilege to experience the side of bakugo katsuki that he hides
"well, i don't know either.." you say truthfully after giving it much thought in such notice (lies. you've been thinking about it since the slumber party happened)
unbeknownst to you, bakugo's heart drops. what do you mean you don't know what you want to be with him? did you not like him back? bakugo's almost certain you do. if you don't like him then why are you in bed with him? if you don't like him then why do you bother sticking around?
bakugo's thoughts are getting to him. you can tell with the way he's slowly unwrapping his arms around you and sits up.
for the first time, the air is suffocating. neither of you speak up on the situation that's brewing just from an innocent question about where your little relationship is heading
"i should leave.." you mutter, slowly pulling yourself off his bed and heading towards the door
"... yeah" bakugo rasps, almost like a whisper, looking away
there's a little ache in your heart when he didn't even bother stopping you. pursing your lips, you quietly leave his room to head back to yours
did you ruin whatever chances you had with your question?
the door closed behind you with a soft click, but it echoed loudly in your mind, marking the beginning of an uneasy distance.
the following day, the tension between you two becomes palpable during training.
the air is thick with unresolved tension. you were coincidentally paired with bakugo this time around and bakugo’s usual focus is a little disrupted. his movements remain sharp as they are but his usual techniques feel a little all over the place, almost as if he couldn't focus at all. obviously you notice but you’re hesitant to approach and you don't act on it. you ignored the way he was being a little rougher that you swore you were gonna get bruises at the end of the session.
midway through the intense spar, you have successfully pinned bakugo down after hitting him with your quirk and in that moment, you both lock eyes. there’s a flicker of something – hurt, longing, confusion – but neither of you speaks
bakugo uses your distraction to his advantage and changes the scene. this time it was you who was pinned on the ground.
ectoplasm, who was the teacher in charge for this training session has called it a tie between the two of you
you push bakugo off yourself as you walk away before bakugo could even offer his arm out for you to take. the whole class watches of course and they finally take notice of the on going tension between the two of you
something shifted in the air after that training session that it was slowly getting unbearable for everyone as the days pass by
for the next few days after that training session, you and bakugo were avoiding each other like the plague. turning to different directions whenever you two would bump into each other whether it be around the school halls or back at the dormitory
the lack of communication for the past few days gave you an ample amount of time to sort out your thoughts and feelings. after giving it some thoughts, you think you were now ready to face bakugo again to ask him the same question but this time you think you had an answer
although that goes all out the window when you spot him talking to someone who seemed to be from another department just outside campus on your way back to the dormitory
you quickly hid behind a nearby bush to watch everything unfold before your very eyes
bakugo has always been popular in campus. especially when he won first place during the school's sports festival but his popularity and reputation skyrocketed even further during the school festival where he showed the rest of the students that he's talented in all aspects even when it comes to musicality
so it was pretty safe to assume he had admirers around campus and you think you were about to witness a live confession
you note that the girl in front of him was holding some kind of paper bag. it looked like it was a gift. your stomach churns at the sight that you almost felt ill. swallowing whatever pride you had left, you continue to watch the two of them conversing
you watch bakugo look at her with wide eyes. like he was surprised or something, you couldn’t really tell. the girl fidgets with the gift bag before bursting into giggles
that was your last straw. with a sharp breath, you leave your hiding spot and stormed away. with each step you take, the heavier it feels than the last. almost as if you were carrying the weight of uncertainty and jealousy
once you arrived, the people who were lounging around in the living room could tell you were upset. you did slam the front doors shut and you may or may not have unintentionally set your quirk off by locking the doors in the process. the rest of the class who weren't home yet, had to get kirishima to break the locks off.
by the time bakugo arrived, he finds the front doors broken much to his surprise. shrugging, he heads inside to see his friends and your friends all huddled up
"do you guys think they broke up?"
"hold up.. they were dating?!"
"omg keep up kaminari! well we think they did but they didn't really confirm it"
"wait! no wonder they're not seen together anymore! bakugo does look a little-"
"looks a little what?!" bakugo cuts off kirishima mid sentence by making his presence known to the group. all the girls and kaminari scream in surprise before scrambling to get away, not wanting to feel bakugo's wrath now that he himself knows that they were talking about him behind his back
kirishima throws his arm over bakugo's shoulder, completely unfazed by his usual antics at this point.
"as i was saying, you look a little out of it for the past few days. something happened to ya?" kirishima asks, "just a little while ago, y/n came home all upset and seemed to lock the locks that i had to break it so the rest of you could come in" he continues
bakugo's eyes widened. fuck, he thinks to himself. bakugo's almost 99% sure why you were upset. he isn't dense as you think he is. he actually noticed you hiding behind the bushes when he was caught up with a student from a different course– who only came up to him to tell him that his zipper was all the way down before skipping back to her own friends
which was totally uncalled for as bakugo thinks
"earth to bakugo? anyone in there? or are the lights left open but nobody is home?" kirishima jokes, waves his hand around bakugo's face, breaking his trance
"shut up and mind your own damn business! all of you!" bakugo booms, loud enough that the girls who were hiding around could hear him
kirishima sighs, "now i don't know what's going on between you and y/n, but you guys need to talk. we don't like the tension going on and it's disrupting the class. talk to her, bro"
with that, kirishima walks away. bakugo could only stare at his back. he hates to admit it but kirishima is right. you guys do need to talk.
huffing, bakugo stomps his way towards his own room to change from his uniform and to formulate what he wants to say
meanwhile, amidst everything going on downstairs in the common area, you locked yourself in your room in attempt to calm yourself down.
"suppress it, y/n. it doesn't matter if someone else likes him! why would it matter to you anyway? you two aren't even a thing! friends don't get jealous over petty shit like this.." you sat in front of your dresser, repeatedly reminding yourself with your status with the blonde
suddenly you hear knocks on your door. you jolt up in surprise, totally not expecting anyone to check up on you after your little outburst. you looked in front of the mirror in case you had any makeup smeared or what not
the knocking gets louder by the minute and you scramble to open the door. when the door opens, you were met with all of the girls, who promptly invited themselves inside your room
"what's up..?" you say, unsure on what's going on
"what's up? what's up with you and bakugo is what's up! what's going on with the two of you?!" mina gets straight to the point, not even wasting a single second
at the mention of bakugo's name. your face sours
"nothing's going on" you sigh, not wanting to think about what happened just moments ago
"if nothing's going on then why do you look like that?" tsuyu questions
"like what?"
"like you're about to cry yourself to sleep!" mina exaggerates, pointing a finger at your face
did you really look that miserable?
with a deep sigh, you flop down on your bed, staring at the ceiling
"i think i like him" you start, feeling embarrassed to even say it out loud
"you think?!" mina reacts, lying down next to you
"mina! let her talk first" uraraka interjects, waiting for you to continue
"since you guys are all here let me just sum up what happened. so basically, i asked him what were we a few nights ago-"
hagakure squeals before immediately clamping her hand around her mouth
"sorry! continue.."
"anyway as i was saying, and then he turned the question back to me and i said i don't know because at the time i didn't know either! i didn't want to make the first move and yeah so now we're here" you finish your little story time quickly to save yourself from further embarrassment
the girls take their time to digest your little dilemma. the stunned silence is what made you realized what you just said. the post yap clarity getting to you
yaoyorozu was the first one to break the silence
"this is all my fault, y/n-san! i should've kept my question to myself instead of asking you. i'm so sorry" yaoyorozu cries out, hands flying to her face
with a sad smile, you reach over to remove her hands off her face
"it's not your fault, yaomomo. in fact you made me realize where we were standing. if anything, you helped me" you try to laugh it off.
well, it was true for the most part. yaoyorozu's question was the trigger you needed to help you realize what was going on between you and bakugo
"well, we don't really know what to say.. but you guys should talk" jirou says, patting your leg in a way to comfort you at least
"yeah i thought so too. we'll talk eventually.." you murmured. now all you want to do is to just lay in bed
"okay guys, visiting hours is over, let's all let y/n rest for the mean time" tsuyu prompts. all the girls agree and slowly they all get up from your bed and start to head out
you sit up, watching them huddle to your door.
"thanks guys" you smile at your friends, "thank you for checking up on me"
mina waves her hand off, "duh! we're your friends and we don't like seeing our friends upset. right guys?" mina ignites cheers.
"now we'll leave you alone with your thoughts. you know where to find us!" uraraka waves you goodbye before they all head out, leaving you alone.
once they were gone, you lay back down. now what? do you ask him first? no, that won't do. you already asked the question that brought you guys this dilemma in the first place. maybe you'll fuck things up even more
you're overthinking at this point. you close your eyes and attempt to sleep it off. yeah, that's what you need right now. maybe when you wake up, you'll be more level headed but for now, you just need to rest and that's what you do
on the way out of your room, the girls all run into kirishima in the hallway.
"girl intervention?" kirishima jokes, bumping fists with everyone
"hah! i wish. we were just checking up on y/n after her little outburst earlier. how's the door by the way?" mina asks, waving goodbye to the rest of the girls who went on their own separate ways
"nice. i just talked to bakugo too. told him he needs to get his shit together and talk to y/n since it's clearly noticeable to everyone that they're both going through something" kirishima shares
mina nods along to what he was saying. hopeful that their words get through your heads.
it was dinner time when bakugo takes notice of your absence in the table. he scanned the room, noting that everyone else was present. so where were you?
"where's y/n?" bakugo speaks before he could think. kirishima and mina both share a knowing look. "is she not gonna eat?"
"she's sleeping" tsuyu answers
"at this hour? it's literally 7:30PM!" kaminari cries out, "man, your self care practices really rubbing off of her huh?" he jokes, elbowing sero who was laughing at his implication
"what did you say, dunce face?!" bakugo stands up, explosions going off on his palms.
"bakugo! manners!" iida scolds him. bakugo huffs and sits back down, chomping down on his food
bakugo takes a mental note to bring you food later when he finishes his meal
"it's me. i brought you food" bakugo knocks on your door, waiting for you to answer. when he's met with silence, he knocks again. this time a little louder
"y/n. you need to eat" he yells, banging his fists against the material of the door. he lets out an irritated growl when he hears some locks clicking into place. an indication that you used your quirk.
"listen, i'm not afraid to blow this whole door away if it means i have to get you to eat!" bakugo yells again. he realizes his tone and clicks his tongue in annoyance that it wasn't the time to act up. "and we need to talk" he says, voice softer
bakugo waits for your response. when you weren't budging at all, he takes this as his sign to leave you alone. maybe you two can talk another time when you aren't preoccupied with other stuff
but to his surprise, you open the door. bakugo pushes it open and sees you making your way back on your bed, looking as if you just cried your eyes out
“i got you your share of food” he says, setting the plate down on your desk. you only weakly nod your head before turning to the side, not wanting to face him.
bakugo stands awkwardly in your room. this isn't the first time he's been here. usually he'd be in bed with you, studying or just hanging out. this was new to bakugo as it is new to you. you two aren't used to this.
swallowing his pride, he slowly sits down on the edge of your bed.
"listen, i want us to talk" bakugo says, unsure what to say next. he carefully watches your next move instead you just lay still.
bakugo runs a hand through his hair. he hates being put on the spot like this. he thinks back to what kirishima told him. to talk to you and here he is now but he isn't sure on what to tell you
"someone came up to me today" bakugo starts, trying to elevate the gloomy atmosphere in your room. "she was-"
"bakugo, it's fine" you cut him off
oof. bakugo. not kats?
bakugo frowns at the way his name slipped off your tongue like that. he opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it
"it's okay if you want to see someone else. i'm not gonna stop you. who am i to stop you?" you finally sit up, looking at him straight in the eye. you just wanted this to get this over with
bakugo's eyes widened. "you didn't even let me fucking finish. she just said that my zipper was open and i wanted to blast her away" he concludes
oh
oh.
stunned by his words, you stay quiet. maybe you shouldn't have jumped into conclusions
"what? got nothing else to say?" bakugo taunts, sensing that the coast was clear, he scoots closer to you. he takes slowly takes your hands and intertwines them together
"i actually saw your dumbass hiding behind that stupid bush. i was gonna catch up with you til that extra stopped me" bakugo grumbles, staring at your hands
you felt your cheeks heat up that you were caught hiding all along.
"so no. i don't want to see anyone else when what i want is right in front of me all along" bakugo says sincerely.
your heart swells. you can feel the tears well up on your eyes again. how much crying have you even done today?
bakugo wipes your stray tears with his thumb. he then caresses your cheeks as he looks deep into your eyes
"i like you, dumbass and nobody else" bakugo grunts, feeling himself heat up
"do you mean that?"
"do i mean that? of course i fucking do! i wouldn't be up all on your ass if i wasn't" bakugo huffs, turning away, not wanting you to see the blush on his cheeks
"well, i like you too" you confess. "and i made up my mind that i want to be with you"
"i've been yours, stupid" bakugo finally turns to you and flicks your forehead. "do you really think i let anyone have the same privileges as you do?"
you laugh. well that was anticlimactic, wasn't it?
"shut up kats!"
"that's what i wanted to hear. not bakugo" bakugo grins
"well that's your name, isn't it?"
"obviously it is but it's different when you call me kats" bakugo pulls you into his embrace. "so do me a favor and get it through your pretty little head that i like you and only you. got it?"
you pulled away slightly to look up at him, seeing the softest gaze you've ever seen. who knew he was capable of looking at you that way?
"so what does this make us?" you ask
"boyfriend girlfriend?" he questions. it almost sounds too good to be true if you were being honest
suddenly an idea pops into your head. you nuzzle your face to his chest before giggling
"what are you giggling on about? us finally being official?" he asks again. your giggles sounds like music to his ears
"you have to take me out on a date first" you tease
bakugo instantly pulls away. his whole face was turning red. did those late night cuddles and conversations not count as dates?
"y/n, we've been going on dates for quite some time now-" he protests but you cut him off
"yeah but you never asked me officially. you just assumed that they were dates. i mean yeah they were dates but like, ask me out sometimes" you insist, looking up at him
bakugo feels a vein pop on his forehead. why does it feel like you were messing with him
"is this your payback from earlier from what you've seen with that bitch? i swear if i find her i'm gonna hit her with howitzer impact" bakugo grumbles.
rolling his eyes, he cups your cheeks, "fine. will you, y/n, go out on a date with me?"
with a big smile, you nod your head yes
"it's a date!"
490 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍
Yes! Thank you for reading <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words
“Honey, I’m home!” 
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—
“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?” 
You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.” 
He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.” 
“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.” 
James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.” 
“How would it be your fault?” 
“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.” 
You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.” 
“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?” 
“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.” 
“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?” 
You blink. “Me?” 
“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.” 
“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.” 
“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?” 
You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now. 
You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.” 
His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.” 
“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway. 
A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up. 
“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.” 
You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours. 
Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime. 
But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice. 
“I might,” you say. 
“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.
549 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 2 days
Text
Twitter porn link: this with cowboy!Ghost
I just know he'd love getting to hold you, finally letting you saddle up only to steal the reins back. He's a good boy. (Cw: Sub!ghost, f!reader, mommy kink)
Simon, generally, doesn't like you on top. Too little control, he says, but you know it's too close to waking up with a stranger on top of him. Sometimes though he gets these ideas in his head. Ideas that make him look at you all day, the wheels turning in his brain until he can point to exactly what he's looking for. Ideas that always end up with his thick cock stretching you out, and his lips against yours. Somehow this idea requires you to be on top.
He positions you on his lap how he likes, hauls your knees up over one strong forearm, and snakes the other up your back to wrap around your shoulders. You're smushed close against his chest, lips hovering over his as his hand drops from your shoulders under your hips, then lower. Thick fingers prod at your cunt, his eyes fixed on yours, breath short but even. He barely feels over your pussy, just checking that you're still wet from his tongue before he's fisting his cock. He slaps the thick length against your thighs, grips the ruddy head to hold against your tight hole. Minimal prep, he wants you to feel it, wants to feel like he's in charge before giving the reins to you.
He presses into you and you eyes cross. The stretch of him- no the friction, even with his spit you can feel every fricative inch of his cock like he's going in dry. It burns, sinful in the pain, drilling home the girth of him better than any other measurement. You feel like you're being stretched, being forced to make room for him. Your body is tight around him, a vice grip that even you feel with a hiss. Simon doesn't give you a second to adjust, simply presses and presses, murmuring how well you take him, how he knows you can take him, until your ass is planted firmly at the base of him. You try to catch your breath. It feels like his cock is physically pushing the air out of your lungs. You blink to dispel the way your eyes want to roll back at every twitch. God you can feel the blood pumping through his fat cock, the stupid thing is going to split you in half.
"What-" you swallow, shake your head and push your forehead against Simon's, still a little cross eyed when you open them again, "what do you need from me-e." He moves his hips, wiggles them side to side as he moves down the bed to lay back comfortably. It pushes his cock sinfully against your sweet spots, grinding him deep into you. You bite back the moan that threatens to spill free, devastated by the pleasure rolling up your spine.
"Look'it me," Simon grunts, "like ya always do."
You love the way he blushes, red to the tips of his ears, but never looking away. You get to see the way his eyes search yours, the way his demeanor shifts, relaxes, when you smile. You tip your head to kiss his forehead and he leans into it.
"Of course baby," you tell him. He pulls you with him to lay down, feet planting on the bed to keep his cock inside as you move. It just means when he sets his hips down, you're left with only the tip inside your aching cunt. He thrusts up into you and your brows furrow, your jaw dropping so he can hear the pretty noises you make. Every 'ah, ah' and breathy 'oh, fuck' until his eyes are starting to get hazy. Fuck drunk.
You drag your tongue over his parted lips, feeling the way his fingers dig into your thigh. He grabs your shoulder again to help pull you down against his thrusts. It's hard keeping your head on when he hits you so deep, when his thrusts are such hard snaps of his hips, but you have to. Simon asked you to.
"My pretty boy," you coo, feeling the way his hips lose their rhythm briefly, "my pretty Simon, fucking me so well." You stroke your hand over his cheek, press your lips to his in soft teasing kisses. "Does it feel good? All wrapped up with me," you know it must, Simon's never been so quiet before. His eyes are focused on you, his gaze dreamy but locked in. His lips are parted but his usual grunts are replaced by soft pants and the occasional twitch of his drawn brows.
"Feels good," he agrees, "feels good sweet'eart."
"I know it does." You kiss him again chaste, then again, dipping your tongue past his parted lips to coax him into swirling his own against it. You lick and nip at his lips, as he fucks you, pulling you into his thrusts in a way you're sure would feel dominating on anyone else. It should feel like that with Simon too, he's a big man, but you sit on him like a queen. You wrap your arms around his head, pret his hair out of his face.
"Faster," You murmur, grabbing his face in one hand, his cheeks squish, the skin marred by scars but still pliant, "my good boy wants to fuck me, doesn't he? Then fuck me faster." Simon's eyes never leave you, you can feel them burning their holes into you when he picks up the pace. His hips snapping to yours make your eyes roll back, your lashes dropping down as you tip your head with a moan. He drills into you, making you whine and pant, your moans spilling from you as his cock hits you deep enough you're sure your cervix will be bruised in the morning. Each snap of his hips is a wet smack against your ass, his balls bouncing to meet the sharp thrusts, your hips held still as he thrusts up into your sopping cunt.
"Good boy," you whine, "so good for me, so good, pretty- pretty boy." You swallow down your next moan. Simon's eyes are starting to go wide, you shake his head. "Don't come, you don't come until I say so." Your voice is going higher, tighter, your control slipping with the whiney breaths you let out. "You have to ask Si," you sound pathetic, but somehow your tone doesn't matter. Simon's grip on you switches, his fingers grabbing for your hair as he holds your knees tight.
"Please," he begs, "please, look so good like this, please lemme come." You throw your head back with a whine and his lips attach to your neck, desperate drunk kisses that are too soft to leave marks. Then wet sloppy things, his mouth open as he pants and whines against your throat. "Please," he tries again. His hips never stop moving, and he sounds close. You tip your head forward again, pull him back to push your lips against his. He's all tongue and teeth, all need and desperation. You swallow it down like holy water.
"Be good for me," you tell him, "be a good boy and come."
Simon's grip on you tightens, his hips stuttering once before he's fucking you hard and fast. You nearly scream, his teeth dig into your bottom lip as he hits that aching tightness deep in the pit of your stomach, pounding at the door to your next prgasm until your vision goes white and you feel the burn of his come filling you. Your back is tight, your breath held in your throat, each drag of his cock burns, too hot and slick for your brain to process. You dig your fingers into his hair pulling, or maybe pushing, at him until he stops. You can't take any more. Your poor cunt aches, your hip hurts.
Simon rolls over, deposits you on your back and just as quickly situates himself between your legs. "One more momma," he murmurs to himself, "one more for me."
You really don't think you have another in you, then his thigh fingers wiggle their way into your cunt, pushing up against your sweet spot with pinpoint precision, and you're on edge again. Tight heat brands your cunt, the ache of it tingling over your skin and making your moans garbled. You grab at his wrist and try to twist away from the oversensitive feeling he strokes into you. He follows you, moves with your squirming hips until you can't take it any more. His fingers are too fast, too determined, too good at what they do. Your legs shake, your back arches, and you come on his fingers until the fingers beating into you are more pain than pleasure.
Simon's tongue drags over your slit in soft apologetic strokes. You already know what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. Lying bastard.
"Just one more momma."
569 notes · View notes
planetaryupscaled · 2 days
Text
Disenchanted 4: Pump & Dump
Male Reader x Karina
Tags: 7k, anal, blackmail, cheat, creampie, dp, foursome, oral
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
Tumblr media
It took a couple of days for the gravity of our meeting with Yeonjun and Hajoon to sink in. The notion of it all was earth shattering, the fact that both Karina and I were being held to ransom by two people I once believed to be trustworthy.
Yeonjun especially, was someone I thought I could rely on; it was painful to see how the situation unfolded, like a car crash in slow motion, with both our reputations and careers hanging by a thread. He had shown his true colors that day; his opportunistic vulture-like characteristics had emerged, and he was determined to reap the benefits.
In the cold light of day, I couldn’t say I blamed him. Just…there’s this part of me that wishes they would not stoop to such lows just to spend one night with Karina, but who am I to judge? I was sleeping with a married woman while simultaneously having drinks with her down trodden husband. Perhaps this was my comeuppance, my payment coming home to roost, my punishment.
Despite my misfortunes, it was Karina I really felt for. I could tell the impending meet up with Hajoon and his little stooge was weighing heavy on her mind. The way she had lost that spring in her step, her usual commanding confidence was being whittled down, day by day in silent trepidation about what was to come. Karina and I spoke for hours on the phone and in person to try and figure out a way to stop this, to find another solution to come back to the table and bargain our way out. It was all in vain, they had us up against the wall, cornered with nowhere to go.
The air was thick that night, humid and muggy, almost as if the weight of what was about to happen was in the atmosphere. I looked at Karina as we drove up to the Hajoon residence, clutching her hand as we left the city.
“We don’t have to do this...” I said, my voice calm and controlled.
She looked gently into my eyes, bringing my hand to her lips.
“It’s ok, we have come too far to get our lives ruined by some preppy junior marketer and an old fart.” She said, her voice laced with spite.
“Seriously…Karina, I can turn back- and...” I started.
“Runaway together?” She finished, leaning over to kiss my lips.
“Thats sweet...it really is...and I love that you want to protect me even though it will end up in your career blowing up in the process...but we have to do this, I have to do this.” Karina replied.
Her determination and ruthless business woman side coming to the fore, she was seeing this as a transaction, nothing more nothing less, a necessary means to an end.
“You love...” I started, looking over at her pretty face.
She smiled, blushing momentarily before looking over at me.
“Yes...I love you.” She spoke, kissing me once more.
“Don’t- you don’t have...” She began.
“I love you too...” I replied, a warm smile overcoming my face.
Karina smiled affectionately, running her hand across my arm before kissing my cheek.
“What?” I asked playfully.
“It’s just...those words, this admission is a big thing, yet here we are making our way to a car crash of an evening.” She said solemnly.
I shook my head in disgust, reassuring her that everything would work out, that everything would be ok. There was silence in the car for a few minutes as we neared our destination before Karina spoke out again.
“You know it’s funny...every time I’m with Jaewook...I find myself closing my eyes and thinking of you. It makes it go faster, it’s better that way. But now you are here, with me...” She said smiling, grabbing a crystal decanter out her bag.
“Just keep your eyes on me, the whole night. We will get through this.” I replied kissing her once more.
“Is that 20-year-old Jaewook’s?” I asked with a smirk.
“He’s gonna be pissed!” I said.
“No babe, it’s me that’s gonna get pissed.” Karina replied.
“I want to remember as little as I can of what goes down tonight.” She said, taking a swig from the bottle.
We pulled up at the gates, the iron structure parting slowly like a lair to an evil dictatorships base camp. The driveway was illuminated with spotlights leading up to an impressive looking, stone mansion. Situated just outside the city, Hajoon looked like he had acres of land, stretching as far as the eye could see as the sun began to set.
“You ready?” I asked Karina, my voice as calm as it could have been, given the circumstances.
Karina nodded, smiling and getting out the car ironically dressed in the same short black dress she was wearing the night I felt her up on the phone to her husband all those months ago. Her bronze skin glowed with sexiness as the sunlight hit her skin, striding confidently up the marble steps and knocking on the front door.
Naturally it was not Hajoon who answered, but a maid, offering us a drink and requesting we follow her up the grand staircase. The house was more modern looking inside than I had first envisaged, family portraits of past “Hajoon’s” lined the walls, illuminated by lights to give a dramatic welcome into the house.
“God, they love themselves don’t they.” I whispered under my breath.
“Do you think they are all cocks?” I followed up.
“Minho!” Karina replied quietly.
“Probably.” She continued, laughing into her palm.
I could see the alcohol slowly sinking in, her tipsiness was getting a little stronger as she took another hit of whisky before we arrived at two large doors. The maid knocked twice, before being asked to come in with Hajoon dressed in a pinstripe suit together with Yeonjun already prepped in a bath robe. He made me sick, I could have thrown him off the balcony right there and then.
“Glad you could make it.” Hajoon said, surveying Karina’s tight frame.
“You look...amazing tonight, as always Karina.” He said, taking a sip of wine.
“I would offer you a drink, but it seems you already have that taken care of.” He said smiling.
“Let’s get this over with.” Karina retorted, motioning to the mobile phone on the table.
“Na ah, I will delete once this is over.” Yeonjun said cooly.
“No, you delete it now.” Karina replied, standing firm.
“She will keep her word.” Hajoon replied, motioning for Yeonjun to do what he was asked.
Like a pawn he yielded, showing us the phone and deleting the video, pictures and anything else associated with that day.
“I suppose there is no cloud back up either?” I asked.
“There is none.” Hajoon replied.
A manipulative old fool he maybe, but a liar he was not.
“Shall we begin?” Hajoon asked, handing Karina a contract.
It was the transfer of his shares once he retired, going fully over to Karina. I quick squiggle and it was done, now the hard part.
“A few conditions.” Karina said confidently.
“Go on...” Hajoon said intrigued.
“No kissing on my lips under any circumstances and I do not and shall not swallow.” She said.
“After tonight, this is it, this is the only time you will be able to have me.” She followed up sharply.
The two just nodded, agreeing with the terms and walked forward, their eyes lighting up with desire as Karina backed herself onto me.
“You ready?” I asked.
“Yeah...”
Karina pressed her rear onto my crotch grinding her body against my chest. I had to admit, my trepidation and even jealousy of having to share her with these two vile people was becoming slowly overturned with lust. Feeling Karina rock her hips against mine gave me instant wood as she widened her stance, showing off her toned, pale legs in all its glory before knocking back one another shot of whiskey.
“Cum in me first.” She whispered, grinding deeper into my crotch as I drifted my hands under her dress.
She was moist, almost too moist as I felt her cream leak through her silky underwear, the grool from her pussy forming strands on my fingertips the moment I pierced her cunt.
“Unghh...” Karina moaned quietly, beckoning the other two to walk forward.
I could see her eyes in the mirror locked on mine, egging me on to keep going, to please her. I did exactly that, slipping my hand between her panties and rubbing decisively at her throbbing clit. The moisture emanating from her pussy was overwhelming as I use my left hand to penetrate her folds while the other pinched at her tender clit and played with her slick labia. Karina eased herself over as Hajoon and Yeonjun stepped forward eagerly awaiting their turn. The sound of the Hajoon’s zipper being draw down was strangely erotic as the old man popped a blue pill, no doubt viagra as his cock slowly sprang to life. Yeonjun was now undressing, cupping Karina’s face as she grasped his exposed dick along with Hajoon’s gently jerking their shafts. I could see the pleasure coursing through their bodies as Karina encircled both of their slits with her thumb, pressing down gently while continuing to pump their dicks in her delicate hands, fisting their meat till both men started to dribble pre cum from their tips.
“Suck...” Hajoon said, running his fingers through her hair.
Karina looked back at me, nodding for me to ramp it up as I dragged my tip along the outside of her slit, her juices coating my crown in a delectable, warm sticky fluid before I thrusted forward, penetrating her sex with force, pushing her mouth onto Hajoon’s length while she held Yeonjun’s twitching cock in her other hand.
“Uhmm...mmh...mmm...” Karina moaned, her lips humming around the old man’s meat.
I watched in awe as she used her lips to pleasure his cock, coating him in her saliva whilst he used her mouth. Hajoon started rocking his hips, gripping her head softly while she fed on his dock, her right hand shifting to his sack while she continued to jerking Yeonjun.
“That’s a good girl, just like that.” Hajoon said, while Karina painted his shaft with spittle.
With a few more bobs of her head, she released him from her mouth, leaning back onto me and kissing me on the lips as I sucked on her exposed tongue. My cock was buried right up inside her married cunt, tensing and flexing inside her womb as my tip smashed up against her cervix. Unzipping the back of her dress, the fabric dropped to the floor, her sexiness exposed at last while I attacked her sex with my meat, slipping my thumb inside her ass and gripping her hips for leverage while I ploughed inside her slippery pussy.
“Minho- Minho...cum... cum inside me...” Karina chanted.
Her walls were milking my shaft at an alarming rate as I saw Yeonjun lose patience, grabbing Karina by her hair and easing her lips onto his cock. She took him no problem, sucking down on his cock with reckless abandon as he rolled his head back in pleasure.
“Fuckk...Karina...” He moaned.
Her mouth was in overdrive as I fucked her from behind, raising her right leg to spear her cunt deeper as Yeonjun and I spit roasted the mother of three. She was close, convulsing on my lap as I pumped more of my cock into her twitching slit, watching her feed on Yeonjun as he held her face and forced all of his dick into her warm mouth.
“Mmhh...nghh…mmhh.” Karina moaned around his meat as her legs started to buckle.
“Gluck...gluckk...gluckk...” Were the sounds of Karina’s mouth, Yeonjun clearly brushing her tonsils as her eyes started to well up.
Yeonjun and I held her in place, our thrusting, slamming ever deeper into her, stuffing her with cock at both ends as the inevitable came to fruition. I came first, my balls churning as I felt Karina shudder in my grasp, her pussy clamping down on my shaft as she climaxed hard on my meat. My balls churned wildly, as I unloaded inside her fertile cunt, spraying my seed into her womb as I pumped her full of my cum, thrusting hard into her wanting cunt like a wild animal. Yeonjun followed, almost immediately after, twitching uncontrollably as he unloaded deep inside her mouth, his seed dribbling from the corners of her lips as she worked his cock with her soft tongue. We were filling her up on both ends, pumping our sperm into her mouth and pussy all at once which she took without complaint, moaning around Yeonjun’s cock as she finally released him, opening her mouth and letting his cum fall out of her in its entirety, forming a milky puddle on the tiles. This sordid scene appeared to have set Hajoon off who was avidly jerking his veiny cock beside her, grabbing Karina by the back of the head and pointing his tip at her forehead.
“Ouhhh...Karina...” The old man moaned, sighing loudly as he unloaded on her face.
He painted her perfect lips and nose with his globulous load, thick and stringy in appearance as spurt after spurt flowed onto Karina’s face, creaming her skin in a translucent film of spunk. I t was like a scene from a porn as the four of us stood panting heavily, my cock still buried inside Karina as I gripped her hips to balance her uneasy legs.
“The bed...lets go to the bed.” Hajoon said out of breath.
The Viagra must have done the trick as his cock was as still as hard as ever, twitching in anticipation of what was to come. Karina took another hit of whiskey after wiping her face clean with a towel, the taste of salt and sperm now replaced with alcohol.
“You ok?” I asked, kissing her on the cheek.
Karina smiled, drunken and dazed, a lusty glaze in her eyes, one I was well accustomed to by now as she kissed me passionately on the lips, sucking on my tongue as she whispered in my ear.
“I... want...you...in my mouth.” She said softly, pulling me by my cock and lying on her side.
Without hesitation, Karina took my soft dick between her lips and started to suck. Her lips covering every inch of my shaft as she used her soft hands to gently palm and squeeze at my sack. It didn’t take long to reach full mast again as I held her by the face and gently pumped my cock into her moist mouth.
“Fucknggh…nghh...mmhh” Karina , screamed, wincing her eyes.
Hajoon had rammed his fat cock deep inside her pussy as she lay on her side. Her legs were bunched up in the Fetal position as he aggressively attacked her cunt with his dick, stuffing her with his meat repeatedly. The sounds of his hip slapping against her ass were brutal as Karina tried her best to concentrate her sucks on my cock. Her lips feebly wrapping around my shaft as Hajoon fucked her hard from the other side. It was something that set me off, the sound of flesh smashing together that triggered my inner animal. I gripped her face, looking her deep in the eyes as forced my twitching cock into her throat. I was using her face as my personal pleasure hole, skull fucking the married woman as I felt her lips clamp on my cock hard. Karina was shaking, Hajoon had hit the right spot grinding his hips as he buried his cock inside her cunt unloading his seed into her pussy.
“Grrhh...that’s right Karina, good girl, take it, take it all.” Hajoon grunted, pumping her cunt one last time as he fucked my cum out of her cunt and replaced it with his own.
Karina was a mess, a cum dazed mess as saliva dribbled down the side of her lips, spunk now leaking profusely out her slit as she rolled over onto her back. Yeonjun was eying her like a tiger, shifting his weight forward as he caressed her sticky thighs.
“Open...open your legs, Karina.” He whispered in her ear, licking the length of her neck.
She was too lust drunk to even protest as she spread her thighs for him, inviting Yeonjun to penetrate her well fucked pussy. He did just that, thrusting hard and deep into her pussy as his cock bottomed out inside the married woman. Grinding his hips, I was sure his tip was rubbing up against her cervix as Karina hung her head off the side of the bed.
“Unghhh...oh...ohhh...goddd...” She screamed, her arms clawing at my thighs.
“Is that all you have...? fuck me like you mean it you pussy!” She yelled at Yeonjun.
It set him off, as he gritted his teeth, his hips in overdrive as he fucked her like a bunny rabbit, grasping at her pert breasts while ramming his meat up inside her silky pussy. I could see her cream encapsulate his cock, Yeonjun’s balls slapping her pristine pussy lips.
“Take it...is...this...what...you...want...” He growled slamming her over and over again.
“Unghh...nghhh...Minho- Minho please...” She pleaded, opening her mouth and extending her tongue.
I rushed forward, supporting her head in my hands as I eased my cock between her lips once more. Squatting down I pumped my cock into her gullet, using her mouth like a glory hole as I felt her lips sheath my shaft, spit drooling at the sides of her mouth while my balls slapped up against her forehead.
“Take it...fucking...take…it...” I yelled, losing control.
Karina scratched at my inner thighs, her tongue now coating the top of my cock with spit as I began to cum. I held her face steady pumping hard and deep into her mouth as my tip exploded inside her throat, feeding her the much-needed seed she desired. Wave after wave of my cum coated her mouth, as she expertly held my base and pumped at my cock, sucking down my sperm into her stomach. Looking down, I could see her actively swallowing every last drop of cum, her throat bulging as I fuelled her mouth with my pent up salty cum.
“Agghhh...yesss...fuckkk” Yeonjun yelled, thrusting hard into Karina.
His hips were twitching, seeding her married pussy for the third time that night as we both pumped our sperm into her at both ends once more. Karina gyrated her hips, feeling the warmth of both loads enter her body as she turned to the side to suckle on my sack.
“Why do you swallow his?” Yeonjun asked.
“He...he can do whatever he wants to me.” She said breathlessly, smiling up at my face.
We stayed like this a mere minute or so before Hajoon came back into the action, slapping her ass in enthusiasm.
“I want your ass.” He said with a look of pure lust on his face.
I could not keep up at this rate so I asked for the blue pill to kick me into overdrive. The old man laughed, pointing me to the drawer as I took it down with some water. It was like a magic pill, my cock suddenly awakening, sore but absolutely rock hard. Yeonjun declined respectfully, tending to Karina’s breasts as he suckled on her nipples, sucking down hard as she rolled back in the covers in ecstasy.
Walking over I gave Karina a knowing look, grabbing her hips and flipping her over onto my lap.
“You want a ride baby?” I asked, winking at her.
Karina smiled flirtatiously, grabbing my length with her sweaty hands and grinding her sex onto me. It felt amazing being inside her warmth again, the spunk of the previous occupant leaking onto my thighs as her cunt made a squelching sound as she bottomed out on my lap. Yeonjun was standing above us, leaning on the backboard. As if on cue, she knew what to do, parting her lips and taking him into her mouth.
“Shit Karina...” Yeonjun moaned, clawing at her hair as he fed her his cock.
“Thats right Karina...bend over for me” Hajoon chimed in, pushing her mouth forward onto Yeonjun’s cock as she took him into the back of her throat.
Hajoon had a clear run at her now exposed rosebud as I pistoned in, up inside her pussy, slapping my balls up on her ass. I could feel Karina tense up the moment Hajoon entered her, her hips bucking slightly as he thrust with full force filling her asshole with his cock. All four of us found our rhythm quite quickly as I thrust my cock up inside Karina’s tight cunt, Hajoon would slide out of her anal cavity while Yeonjun would pump his cock into her throat. It was like a complicated machine made out of human body parts.
Karina’s breasts were bouncing all over the place as Hajoon gathered speed, splitting her ass open with his fat cock as he filled her anally, I could hear the slaps of flesh again and the squelch of bodily fluids emanating from between her legs. She was enjoying this, her pussy creaming all over my cock as her cunt glistened with grool.
“Nghh...mmfff...fuck...fuckk...shittt...” Karina wailed between sucks, saliva now dripping on to my face from her rapid slurps.
Her body was being stuffed with three cocks simultaneously, she was well and truly airtight. At this angle I could spear her g-spot with cock. Spreading her ass cheeks for Hajoon to violate her anus, I thrust upwards hard, grinding my hips against her clit till I felt her sacred spot with my tip. I held her here while I prodded and rubbed against her most sensitive parts, filling her womb with my meat as my cock stretched her pussy out.
“Karina...Karina...suck…keep...sucking me.” Yeonjun grunted.
I could feel myself approaching too, gripping her body close as I continued to thrust up inside her wanting cunt with my slick cock, spearing her folds with my dick as Hajoon began speed up frantically fucking her rump.
“Karinaaa…nghhh.” Hajoon groaned, gripping her hips and fucking her deep in the ass.
I could feel her lower half convulse, no doubt taking his load deep inside her anal cavity as Yeonjun followed suit, unloading wildly into her mouth while my tip exploded between her legs. All three of us were seeding her at the same time, our cums being fired into her ass, pussy and mouth together as one. Sperm flowed from her lips as she spat Yeonjun’s load out on to the pillow, a bit dribbling down her face as she pumped his straining dick on more time. Her hips gyrating slowly while my spasming cock eeked out the last drops inside her dripping well fucked pussy, creampie number four for the night.
Hajoon rolled of, slapping her rump once more before lying back on the Egyptian cotton sheets.
“Come...” He said, directing Karina to him.
“Crawl to me...” He whispered.
Karina complied, her face smeared with cum and spittle as she crawled, cum oozing from her red raw ass and well fucked pussy.
She was tired, her arms weak as she crawled across the bed on onto Hajoon’s lap, His cock was still hard, as he beat his meaty cock in his hands waiting for Karina’s mouth to engulf him. It was a highly arousing sightseeing Karina, normally the dominant one in the work environment, being tamed and compliant as she joined his hands with hers, squeezing his fleshy cock as she bent down and took him in her mouth. The sounds that came from her mouth were sexual, the way she coated him with her full lips, slathering her saliva along his shaft as her tongue travelled the length of his base till she reached his balls. Taking each orb in her mouth, Karina suckled, feeding on his sack while pumping away at his cock, now slick with spittle. Her grip was getting harder as I saw Hajoon jerk his hips, grabbing the sheets. The image of Karina’s ass was too hard to resist as I looked down at my slick cock, covered in god knows what fluids, twitching to be tagged in. As if reading my mind, Karina looked back at me, wiggling her ass as I positioned myself behind her pert rear.
“Ass up...face...down...” I said, pressing her back forward so her rear jutted out into the sweaty night air.
Karina licked her lips, looking back at me as she took Hajoon in her mouth once more.
“Mmnghh...mmhhh...” She moaned on his cock as I wasted no time.
Thrusting forward with precision, I speared her asshole with force, pushing the excess cum from her crack out all over the sheets as a new tenant occupied her anal cavity. It was a sticky affair, her tightness lubricated by someone else’s cum, Hajoon’s to be precise. It allowed me to get in and out faster, slamming my cock into her bowels as my meat stretched her out. Looking over at Yeonjun he had passed out form tonight’s sordid events.
“Pffttt Rookie...” I said under my breath as I continued to fuck Karina’s ass.
“Unghhh...ughhh...fuckkk...nghhh.” Karina wailed, releasing Hajoon’s cock from her mouth as she felt me bottom out in her shitter.
Her walls were tightening, the cum form her ass now fully excavated as I drilled her rump from behind with deliberate pumps of my cock. Hajoon was twitching like a madman, holding Karina’s head in place while his shaft started to pulse. The first spurt getting her in her eye before she recovered and took him into her mouth once more, sucking up the rest of his cum.
“Karinaa...suck...suck me...” Hajoon said breathlessly, as Karina hoovered his cock.
The meat between her lips finally going limp as she dribbled his salty seed on his lap, resting her tired face on his thighs as I neared my crescendo too. Leaning forward and rubbing at her sex with my hand we frigged her throbbing clit together, Karina and I, hand in hand as my orgasm approached. She began to shake, her voice raspy and ragged as the contractions came. Thighs trembling, Karina started creaming on my palms again, her sticky grool was everywhere as I penetrated her ass hole.
“Cumm...fucking...cummm.” Karina yelled in rapture as I exploded inside her bowels.
A warm rush of seed flooded her anal canal, coating her inside in my sticky load as my orgasm triggered hers, trembling in my arms as I violated her asshole with my cock, pumping an ever increasing amount of sperm into her anal cavity.
“Fuck…fuck...keep pumping me.” Karina said, breathing heavy as she leant back on me.
I did what she said, flexing my hips as I fed her rump the last few spurts of my twitching cock. We were all shattered, Karina no doubt the most, her limbs turned to jelly and body covered in sweat and bodily fluids. She had been filled to the brim tonight, stuffed by three men simultaneously as we pumped our seed into her tight body. Nevertheless, the sultry vixen just looked deep into my eyes, as she flicked her hair in my direction.
“Take me home Minho...” She said, kissing me softly on the lips.
Driving back to my place that night with the wind blowing on my face through the open window sent a much needed shock to my system. The cool morning air hit me like freight train, bringing me back to earth as I stared at Karina sleeping in the passenger seat beside me. She was absolutely wrecked, her inner thighs still smeared in god knows who’s seed, remnants from the absolute railing she had received that evening. We were relentless, not giving her a seconds rest all night, just one position after the next, unloading our cums deep inside her writhing body till she overflowed with it all, twitching in pleasure, drunk on lust.
“Hey... Karina, we are home.” I said, scooping her up and opening the front door.
There was no response aside from a light moan as we ascended the stairs setting her down softly on my bed. Sweeping her hair to the side I stood there for a moment, admiring her beauty, tracing the outlines of her hips and waist with my eyes before a sudden vibration on the bedside table pulled me back to reality. It was Jaewook, his name was flashing up on Karina’s screen. There was a moment’s hesitation where part of me wanted to answer it and tell him all about what had just happened, but I decided against it. The cruelness of it all was strangely intoxicating, knowing and doing all this behind his back as bad as it was, was never bad enough for me to stop. I wanted her and vice versa but deep down I knew something had to give, we could not keep this secret from Jaewook for much longer.
“Morning sleepy head.” Karina said, dancing her fingers along my forehead.
“Uhmm...hey...you.” I replied, my eyes adjusting to the sunlight.
“How are you feeling...?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“OK...a little stretched you could say.” She replied playfully slapping my arm.
Karina had changed into a silky purple nightie, most probably after I passed out from the warm shower before bed. Studying her pale legs over the cotton sheets, I could still see the hand prints on her exposed thigh, most probably from Hajoon who really went for it that night.
“Mmmm...look what that old guy did?” Karina said, noticing the shock on my face after seeing the marks.
“Yes...we really did a number on you last night...” I replied sheepishly.
“Yes...you did...” She replied, blushing slightly as she covered up her legs under the sheets.
“Listen...about last...” I started, my voice laced in guilt seeing what she had to go through just to save my skin.
I had to admit I enjoyed it last night, it was raw, uncut pure sex. It was unlike anything I had ever done or likely ever to do again, but it came at a price. Karina and her dignity, one she once proudly wore had taken a battering that night. It was strange to think that the days leading up to it all, we both were fraught in trepidation, yet once we were in the moment, it somehow felt liberating.
“It’s ok...” She said, her eyes fixed on mine.
“Truth be told...I...” Karina stuttered slightly.
I knew what she was going to say, I could read it on her face last night, as we locked eyes and I flooded her womb for the nth time.
“You...” I said slowly.
“Liked...it...” She let out with a sigh.
Her face blew up in a bright red color as she registered what she had just said. My smile was telling, almost mocking her, to which she just hit my arm lightly and kissed me on the lips. I had a feeling that this was the case, her body betrayed her, face wincing in pleasure with each spear of cock, each flood of her chamber brought about a renewed sense of satisfaction on her face. I could tell by the way we fucked last night, it was passionate, feral, right.
“Not all of it.” She said, trying to backtrack her previous revelation.
“Really...?” I said smirking.
“Well, yes...no... I mean...I liked the feeling of being pleasured...and filled over and over again.” Karina said, her eyes glazing over like she was remembering the best parts of last night.
“I can’t explain it...it almost didn’t matter that Hajoon and Yeonjun were there...they were just props...what was important was that you were there...it’s almost like our connection hit another level...you know?” She mused.
“Primal...” I replied.
“That’s the word!” She replied, smirking before kissing me lightly on the lips.
“Well...do you want to...” I began.
“Let’s not push your luck Mister.” She said sharply, before turning to check her phone.
There was something else, I could sense it, the way she flicked her phone off and turned to me told me it was something about Jaewook. It had come to pass that the married couple had had a deep talk while I was asleep, deciding what the next steps were in their marriage. Karina had all but thrown in the towel to the protests of Jaewook who was still clinging onto a small thread of hope. They were both due to go to some camping trip to later on in that week to try and “heal” she put it while rolling her eyes. It was your standard last chance saloon talks that you hear about a hundred times over, the only difference was the last part. I was invited to this healing session.
It came to light that Jaewook’s fix that we spoke about regarding spicing things up had really gone to his head. In his desperation, he had put forward an idea to Karina of a potential threesome. Upon hearing this I burst out laughing, like I was an episode of punked or something. Karina’s eyes remained resolute, to the point that my laughter faded into thin air.
“Ok...what...you...him...I’m sorry...what?” I replied, absolutely flummoxed.
“Hold on big boy, a minute ago you were all like, let’s do this again.” Karina said mockingly.
“Yeah, that was...this...this is weird as fuck!” I replied.
“Well, it is and it isn’t, some of my girlfriends have done some suspect things in their time with their hubby.” Karina said smiling knowingly.
“But what about your lack of feelings for...” I started.
“That still stands...” Karina said coldly.
“So, this thing, he’ll thinks this will save your marriage...it...” I replied
“Won’t.” Karina interjected.
“But you still want to...” I followed up tentatively.
“Yes...” She said with a devilish grin.
“That’s cold Rina.” I said.
“Please...don’t give me that. Besides, I told him already that I would ask you this as a favor in exchange to further your career.” She replied matter of factly.
“I want- this...you...” Karina said, her voice trailing off, as her eyes took over.
“And what if I refuse.” I said with an empty threat.
Her look spoke a thousand words as she lay back down beside me, her eyes trailing my lower half of my body. I had already agreed to this fucked up threesome without saying anything and she knew it.
“Morning pump and dump?” Karina asked seductively, bribing me with her body as she unclasped her bra from under her nighty and threw it in my face.
“You are outrageous...” I replied, taking her tongue between my lips as we kissed passionately.
My hands roamed her tight frame, squeezing softly at her pert breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers as I positioned my hips between her bronze thighs.
“Show me what you got...” Karina said, biting my ear and pulling me close for another deep kiss.
We were well versed in this now, our bodies moved as one as I thrust forward without much thought, my cock piercing her wet folds in one slick movement as she welcomed my dick inside her moist cunt. The slickness of her folds creaming all over my shaft was something I was accustomed too, every inch of her pussy had been explored by my straining cock, my mouth, fingers and anything else I could fuck her with.
“God...you...stretch me out...so...good...” Karina moaned into my ear as I bottomed out inside her luscious cavern.
Her pink walls hugged at my meat, coaxing out pearls of precum from my crown as I smashed her cervix with my tip, stuffing the housewife with my cock, feeling the stretch of her cunt muscles as I penetrated her slick sex.
“Unghhh...mnghhh...yes...yesss...” Karina wailed.
My balls were slapping up against her ass as I felt her grool slather my shaft each time I pumped more of my dick into her tight womanly cunt, feeding her pussy all of my meat as I rubbed tirelessly at her throbbing clit. The stickiness of her thighs was growing, strands of her sexual juices now smearing against my hips as I whipped her legs over my shoulders and railed Karina into the mattress with my cock. Each stroke fucking her long and deep, filling her married cunt with cock as she clawed at my face, mewing at each penetrative thrust of my hips.
“Baby...baby...keep- keep...going...” Karina chanted.
Sweat was pouring from my face, dripping onto her outstretched tongue as she lapped up my salty beads of perspiration, licking up my neck as I ground my hips into her mound, burying my cock inside her pussy. The feeling of her cunt contracting around my shaft was a telling sign as Karina got up on all fours and pushed me on my back. Staring at the sultry married woman, she stalked me like a lioness, licking her lips as she crawled towards me.
“I want you...to pump me…full of your essence...” Karina whispered, taking my cock between her lips and sucking hard on my turgid member.
The housewife dipped her head low, taking my meat into the back of her throat as her excess spit leaked from the sides of her mouth. I was twitching between her lips, close to completion, I knew she wanted me to release inside her, but where was up to her. Karina kept sucking, slurping on my shaft like an ice lolly as she worked the underside of my cock with her tongue, smearing me with her warm saliva.
“Gluck...gluckk...gluckk...” Were the sounds from her mouth, her eyes watering as I held her face and began to thrust.
My balls slapped up against her chin as I penetrated her mouth with my cock, tapping her tonsils as Karina’s mouth was stuffed with my meat. Holding her hair back to let me see her suck me off with no hands, I guided her face to the exact depth I wanted, rolling my hips to feed her more dick between her soft pink lips.
“Karina...Baby I’m close...” I moaned, my eyes were straining to hold it together before she popped me free from her mouth and squeezed hard on my shaft, preventing me from exploding.
My balls ached at being denied, moments before release and she knew it, smiling cheekily at me, her face covered in a thin sheen of sweat and sex.
“Remember what I said...Pump...and...dump.” She whispered, wiggling her tight rear in my face as she licked her lips and bent over on all fours.
Who was this woman? The sexual encounter from last night had unleashed something deep within her, a ravenous goddess that had to be satiated, and satiate I would, whatever it took.
Grabbing her roughly by the hips I thrusted forwards, impaling the brunette on my length as I penetrated her sex from the rear. Her wetness was obvious, grool dribbling down the sides of her thighs as our flesh connected with a resounding slap. The grunting emanating from her lips as I pounded her pussy from behind was music to my ears as I felt the tightness of her cunt mold around my shaft, sucking me off each time I fucked my slick cock into her tight cunt.
“Unghhh...nghhh...fuckk- do it...dump...it- dump it… inside...of...me...” Karina screamed in rapture.
The aggression of my pumps was showing on her rear, fucked red and raw as I slapped her tight ass a few times while stretching her out.
I could feel her pussy start to get tighter, her walls were closing in on me as I smashed up against her cervix with my tip a few more times, pinching at her clitoris with my fingers as I desperately stuffed her married cunt with my cock.
“Karina...fuckk...” I moaned into her ear.
She was bucking her hips, her legs trembling as I felt her orgasm hit, squeezing at my shaft with a ravenous appetite as I continued to pump my hips, lifting one leg up to smash her cunt hard and deep.
“Unghhh...pump...me...I want...it, all...of...it...” Karina wailed as her climax continued through my strokes.
It was the final straw, seeing her scream and wail into the covers set me off as I erupted from the tip just as I bottomed out inside her tight cunt. The force of my climax, pumping a torrent of cream inside her marital pussy, feeding her uterus with my milky sperm as I painted her womb white with my sticky seed.
“That’s it...Baby...” Karina, said looking back, gyrating her hips as I fed her more of my pent up cum.
She was overflowing from her pink slit, yet I continued to thrust, stuffing her tight cunt with my twitching meat, forcing my warm sticky semen deep into her womb as Karina collapsed onto the pillow while I was still imbedded within her.
“Don’t- don’t...stop...” Karina whispered breathlessly as I continued to empty myself inside her pussy, flexing my hips to get every ounce of cums inside her.
We stayed, locked in this mating ritual for a good ten minutes before I disengaged with a slurp, the remnants of my seed flowing out of her moist slit almost immediately as the sultry housewife turned towards me.
“Are you still in two minds about that getaway?” She said raising her eyebrows.
“Just give me the time and the place...” I said, breathlessly, slapping her ass one last time.
545 notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 1 day
Text
orange juice | S.R.
Tumblr media
you and spencer have an announcement to make, but you're not quite sure how to do it
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: bau!reader, pregnant!reader, nausea and pregnancy symptoms, slightly protective spencer, mentions blood tests and doctors, not proofread word count: 906 a/n: this week has been so atrocious and awful and stressful!!! fuck cancer!! fuck student loans!!! i need spencer reid fluff!!!
Tumblr media
“Drink it,” Spencer murmured, keeping his eyes trained on the file on his desk in front of him while noting the way you hadn’t so much as budged in his periphery. You were leaning a bit too far to the left, and the more he observed you, the more he worried that you were going to topple over. “It’ll make you feel better,” he prodded.
Your head jolted as he continued to watch you as if he had woken you from a deep sleep, “What? Sorry,” you mumbled, eyes focusing on the bottle of orange juice that he had placed on your desk upon your arrival at the BAU.
A laugh caught your attention as you slowly turned your office chair around, “Late night, pretty girl?” Derek quipped, winking in your direction before turning back to his own work.
Turning back around, you shared a look with Spencer while rolling your chair closer to your desk, hoping to be able to better prop your head up. The real answer was that you had an early morning, woken up by a roiling stomach courtesy of the first trimester.
Spencer had gotten up with you at five this morning and your queasiness showed no sign of faltering. Your stomach had nothing left to give by the time you went to your doctor’s appointment, but you assured your husband that you were fine when you arrived in Quantico after having your blood drawn.
The issue was that no one knew. Other than Hotch – for obvious personal safety reasons – no members of the BAU were aware that you were pregnant. It started as wariness, wanting to reach a certain milestone before letting your team know, but it quickly turned into a different form of anxiety. You hadn’t let your team know you were even talking about having a baby. Neither of you were entirely sure how to broach the subject or announce your pregnancy, so you didn’t.
Hidden in plain sight, resting on Spencer’s desk was a sonogram, a three-by-five, black-and-white photo of your baby, the two of you were simply waiting for a profiler observant enough to notice. You weren’t showing, yet, as you encroached upon the second trimester, you worried you were running out of time.
His theory was that your nausea was being exacerbated by low blood sugar, which is why he made sure to give you orange juice – you weren’t so convinced, orange juice was brutal coming back out.
You heard the familiar woosh of the glass doors to the bullpen swing as someone entered, the click-clack of Garcia’s heels snapping you back to attention, it was almost time for morning debrief. If you were lucky, you’d remain at your desk for the rest of the day. If your luck ran out, you’d have to pop a Zofran before getting on the jet.
Sighing, you rested your chin in your hand before going back to clicking through your emails, pausing for just a moment when Spencer reached across the short barrier between your desks and opened the bottle for you. To appease him, you took a small sip of the orange juice, pleased when you saw him settle in his desk chair.
“What’s that?” Garcia asked, nearly stumbling to a stop behind Spencer’s desk as her eyes snagged on something on the surface. “No, no I know what that is,” she continued, stammering and flicking her eyes between you and Spencer.
Penelope’s rising voice garnered the attention of other people in the bullpen, bringing them to your and Spencer’s adjacent desks. “What’s wrong, baby girl?” Derek piped up, making his way over and setting a hand on the back of your chair.
Pointing at you, the technical analyst wagged her finger as she made the connections in her brain. The doctor’s appointments and the sudden aversion to girl’s night made sense to her now, and you could see it in the way her gaze softened when she stepped around the desks in order to give you a hug, “Is that real?”
As you reciprocated her hug, you nodded, glancing over at your husband as you knew your secret was now out. “Yeah,” you mumbled into her blonde hair, “It’s real.”
“Would somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Morgan said, looking around, sharing a confused look with Emily but earning a ‘dude, really?’ look from JJ.
Releasing you from the hug, Penelope reached over the acrylic barrier, plucked the sonogram off Spencer’s desk, and presented it to the rest of the team Vanna White style, “Baby genius is imminent!” She announced, beaming at you and Spencer as you snuck around them to stand at his side.
One by one, Emily, JJ, and Derek embraced both you and Spencer, “Wait, how long has that picture been there?” Emily questioned, arching a dark brow at you and Spencer.
“Two weeks,” Spencer answered quickly, snaking an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly.
You leaned into him slightly before nodding in affirmation, “Yeah, some profilers you guys are!”
Rolling his eyes, Morgan came back at you for another hug, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted slightly off the ground. “Woah, hey, be careful,” Spencer said, waiting expectantly for your coworker to let you go.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped back to where Spencer was standing while Emily spoke again, “Oh, he’s going to be insufferable by the end of this.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
811 notes · View notes
sodaabaa · 2 days
Text
shadows and spirits, part one
azriel x reader reader is azriel's mate but she hasn't accepted the bond yet due to her fear of azriel himself.
tw: slightly nsfw, brief mentions of illyrian misogyny, suggestions of edging and arousal
part two
Tumblr media
Bells rang as the door to the bar opened, signaling the arrival of the day’s first customers – or so Y/N thought. She walked to the bar counter, leaving behind the half opened crates of newly shipped wines and spirits. She’d deal with those later. 
“Y/N! How’s my favorite bartender?” Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court walked in with his arms raised and a friendly, welcoming smile on his face. 
She fought the urge to smile at the sight of her friend, “I’m only your favorite because I give you discounts and secrets,” she whispered the last part as he approached.
Y/N ran one of the most popular bars in Velaris, being a favored spot for many because of its proximity to the Sidra River and the spectacular view it offered (and of course, the variety of top-shelf liquor favored by Rhysand himself). Y/N knew everyone and anyone that frequented her bar. She often provided a shoulder to cry on and a few shots of tequila to mend broken hearts. Because of this, she gathered vast amounts of information from the citizens of the beautiful city and when needed, she reported back to Rhys. 
Rhys smiled, leaning his elbows on the counter. She swatted at him with a towel, “I just cleaned that.” Rhys chuckled but didn’t remove himself from the dark wood counter.
She opened her mouth to ask Rhys why he was here when something pricked at the back of her neck. Her eyes darted to the man trailing behind Rhys like a shadow, and then back to the High Lord. She stood a little taller, back straightening as she steeled herself. 
“Here on business, I guess?” She asked him. His smile faded as he nodded. She poured herself and the High Lord a drink to avoid any more eye contact with the man who’d just entered. They clinked their glasses and downed their drinks. With a sigh, Rhys pulled something out of his back pocket.
“Have you seen these men?” He placed a few pictures on the counter and waited for Y/N to recognize them. 
“I may have seen them, they look familiar. I can ask the girls, maybe they’d have more luck identifying them,” she replied. 
Rhys nodded, “Alright, be on the lookout for these guys. They’ve been stirring up some trouble and I’m gonna need to put an end to that before it gets worse.” “Are they Illyrian?” “Unfortunately,” Rhys replied with a sigh.
“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” she gave him a curt nod. 
“Take care, Y/N,” and with that, Rhys turned to leave. Azriel on the other hand, stayed behind. Y/N quickly busied herself with wiping down the counter and tidying up in hopes he’d get the signal and leave.
“You can’t avoid this forever, Y/N,” he finally broke the silence, his voice deep and flat – it rumbled through her, causing the hairs on her arms to raise. 
She threw the towel onto the counter, “Watch me,” she spat back. Big mistake. His hazel eyes darkened, shadows coming to life around him; twisting and flaring with an emotion she couldn’t decipher. He exhaled, silently making his way out the same door he arrived in. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You could at least try being less hostile towards him, the poor man is in a constant state of sulking these days,” Feyre said as she swirled the glass of ruby-colored wine in her hands.
Y/N rolled her eyes at her friend’s attempt at getting her to talk to Azriel. Feyre frequently visited the bar since it was closeby to her art studio. The two had hit it off quickly, becoming close friends and bonding over art, music, and men. Feyre had found out about Y/N’s mating bond issue and because she was biased (being friends with Azriel), she constantly pestered Y/N about it. 
“Feyre, I already told you. I don’t want anything to do with Illyrians – they’re possessive, violent, and they view women as breeding machines,” she looked at the High Lady, “and I mean this with all due respect to Rhys, I don’t want to be mated to an Illyrian.” 
“He’s really a big softie, I promise. Just get to know him, he has the same complaints about Illyrians as you do!” Of course she would defend him, they’d been close friends ever since Feyre first arrived at the Night Court. But she overlooked the innate instincts of the warrior species. 
Y/N sighed. She tried to repress the memories of her parents – her mother, like Y/N, was mated to an Illyrian. She knew the culture they were raised in, the way they looked down on women, the violence they were accustomed to. To top it all off, Azriel was the Spymaster of the Night Court – the rumors about his cruelty and power were enough to keep Y/N away from him in fear. Luckily, she knew he’d stay away until she accepted the bond.
“I somehow doubt a man who tortures people for a living could be a 'big softie',” she replied with a scoff. 
Feyre sighed, “He doesn’t hurt the innocent – in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him hurt a fly even,” she took Y/N hands in hers, “He’s a good man, Y/N. Give him a chance.” 
Y/N huffed, “I’ll think about it.” 
Feyre squealed, an uncharacteristic sound for a High Lady to make, and pulled Y/N in for a hug. 
“You won’t regret this!” 
I somehow doubt that, she thought to herself.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
As the sun began to set, the bar came alive with people ready to unwind after a long day of work. The air hummed with laughter and conversation, glasses clinking in the air while soft melodies floated about. Y/N looked around the bar for the men Rhys was looking for, taking in the lively atmosphere – a jolt of pride running through her as she surveyed the place she built up from the bottom.
Despite the bustling noise of the bar, she felt that damned prickle on the back of her neck, her eyes catching on the shadows in the corner. He did this every so often – lurked in the corners, watching her. She rolled her eyes, returning to the customers at the counter asking for drinks. 
“Hey sweetie, give us a smile!” One of her unfortunately regular customers called out. He leaned forward, trying to get in Y/N’s way.
“Find someone else to bother tonight, Devon,” she replied, topping his glass with more liquor avoiding eye contact with the sleazy man who constantly vyed for her attention. 
“Oh, but I wanna bother you,” his hand grabbed hers. 
“Devon, I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit tonight, let go,” She said as she tried wriggling her wrist out of his grip. The nuisance of a customer pulled her closer but stopped in his tracks, abruptly letting her hand go and backing away from the bar. He all but scurried away and Y/N sighed. She knew there was only one man who could make people shit their pants in fear like that. 
“You could’ve at least let him pay before he left,” She said without even bothering to turn around as she picked up the abandoned glass of whiskey.
The man behind her dramatically placed a few coins on the counter. She braced herself for the brooding face and shadows as she turned around. She glared up at him, the height difference between them all the more prominent as he stood not even a foot away.
“Stop sending Feyre to do the dirty work of convincing me to accept the bond,” she tried to sound intimidating – or at least serious but she found it difficult when faced with his presence, it consumed all of her confidence and left her feeling small, defenseless against the Spymaster.
“I didn’t send her,” he replied rather monotonous but she could see the tinge of amusement on his face at the sight of her trying to put up a confident front.
“Well if you’re done playing savior, can I get back to work?” 
“Would it kill you to say 'thank you?'” He blocked her from passing by with his aggravatingly large obsidian wings. 
She put her hands on her hips and mustered up all the vitriol she could, “Yes, actually, it would. Now get out of my way before I kick you out.” 
He let out a breathy laugh, a laugh. Y/N, now fuming at the man before her, shoved him in the chest, knowing it wouldn’t amount to much but it helped relieve her annoyance.
This time, he chuckled, a sound that resonated through her, only serving to fuel the fire that was Y/N’s anger. She grabbed one of the soda guns under the counter and aimed it at the nuisance before her. His brows lifted in surprise and he lifted his hands in a mock surrender. Her eyes fell to his scarred hands and her stomach dropped as her hands gripped the soda gun tighter.
“Alright, alright,” he conceded, “I’ll be around.” With that, he returned to the shadows and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
At the end of the night, the final few customers stumbled their way out of the bar and Y/N took a seat at one of the tables, exhausted from the day’s work. She poured herself a drink, relishing in the quiet – though her relief was short lived when she sensed the shadows in the corners. She squinted, grabbing a towel from her apron and threw it at the corner. He caught it, revealing himself from the shadows. 
“If you wanna lurk here after hours, the least you could do is help me clean up.” Amusement once again danced over his dark features. No doubt thinking about all the ways he’d make her pay for her rude behavior. He didn’t say anything as he started wiping down the tables, eyes occasionally finding their way back to Y/N, shadows brushing her skin when she walked past him.
They cleaned in silence, Y/N taking a mop to the floors while Azriel put up the chairs and collected stray items off the tables. Something clicked in her then, she felt almost at ease with his presence. Almost. 
“Do you know what happens when accepting the mating bond is delayed?” He said, breaking the silence.
She looked at him from across the room as he put up the last few chairs.
“What happens?”
His eyes darkened, narrowing at her, “There are reports of males being unable to stop themselves from taking their mate, over and over," he paused, giving her a moment to process, "I like to think I have more restraint than my dimwitted brothers but even I cannot control nature,” his voice was dangerously low as he spoke. It made Y/N stomach flutter in ways she couldn’t contain. Her skin prickled as she took in his words. Her chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm, suddenly realizing she was at a crossroads. 
She’d been putting off accepting the bond for years now. They had first met at the grand opening of the bar. Rhys had come to congratulate her and survey the bar and of course, he had brought the inner circle. They became her first customers. A feeling of dread welled in her stomach when she first laid eyes on Azriel and somehow she knew it was him, her mate. She cursed the Cauldron for pairing her with the deadliest Illyrian in Prythian. 
“You won’t be able to delay it forever, Y/N,” he stalked closer to her, massive wings dragging behind him, a predator approaching its prey.
She took a step back, stumbling into the table behind her and she flinched. He smirked at her clumsiness. 
“Eventually, you’ll feel it. The primal, unavoidable need. The raw desire,” he drawled. 
She swallowed, looking up at the man who now stood too close to her for comfort. She leaned back, her weight shifted to her hands gripping the table behind her to put as much distance between them as she could. He only looked down at her, his intense gaze raking over her body, sensing her fear. He leaned down, she could feel his breath tickle her ear as he said, “That’s not fear, Y/N. It’s arousal.” Her breath got caught in her throat at the show of his abilities. He straightened and stepped back, giving her room to breathe. 
“Good night, mate.” 
He disappeared into the night, leaving her dazed and flustered.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Y/N entered the bar, grumbling at Daisy, one of the bartenders, as she passed by the bubbly girl.
“Woah, what’s got you all crabby this morning?” She glared at Daisy, prompting her to find some task to tend to as Y/N slouched on the counter. She couldn’t get a wink of sleep the last few nights. Azriel’s words echoed in her mind, keeping her up.
It’s not fear, it’s arousal. 
After he left the bar that night, she found herself almost constantly in an aggravating state of arousal. Despite this, she couldn’t find any relief no matter what she did. She tried pleasing herself but when all she could think about was Azriel and his dominating presence, she decided to erase the memory of him through a string of one night stands. To her utter dismay, none of it worked. It nearly drove her mad. She hadn’t seen Azriel in the past few weeks since that night and she realized he was giving her space on purpose, to heighten her need to see him again. Asshole, she thought.
She poured herself a drink, hoping it’d dull the throbbing in her head (and in other places she deigned to acknowledge). 
“Day drinking? Is there something bothering you, Y/N?” 
Great. As if the day couldn’t get any better.
The velvety, deep voice rang through her, causing damned butterflies in her stomach. He stood before her, dressed in his fighting leathers, blue siphons pulsing with power. He gave her a knowing smirk.
“I can’t deal with this today,” she said as she walked off.
“You could give in, you know. It would provide you with the much needed relief you’re so desperately trying to seek,” he taunted.
“No thanks, there’s bound to be some half witted man that can satisfy me plenty,” she shot back.
The shadows around him flared, reaching out towards her but not quite touching her. Azriel’s eyes were dark. Maybe it was stupid of Y/N to taunt him, dangerous even, but she'd spent the last few days in sleepless agony because of him. He could suck it.
“Aw, is the big bad Spymaster jealous?” She teased.
“Don’t play games with me, Y/N.” She walked back over to him, lifting her chin in defiance. 
“Or what? We both know you won’t touch me until I accept the bond.” 
He smirked, “You will accept the bond. And when you do, you are going to be at my mercy. Begging for relief,” he gripped her chin with a hand, sending a chill down her spine, “And I’ll take that as an opportunity to remind you of your obstinance.” 
“I bet you’re just as pent up as I am. It gives me peace knowing you can only find relief with me. Maybe it’ll give me the strength I need to continue denying you.” 
He let out a breathy laugh, “I have centuries of experience on you, little girl.” 
Her stomach dropped at the degrading title. The reminder of his age dawned on her. He fought in the first war against Hybern, Y/N hadn’t even been born then. She was a mere century and half to his five centuries. 
“Cat’s got your tongue?” He taunted with a smile.
She shoved him off in a sudden movement. Grateful to be away from him. 
“Fine, I’ll give you some room to breathe. Cauldron knows you’ll be needing it.” 
He left as fast as he had appeared, once again leaving Y/N off-centered for the rest of the day. What have I gotten myself into?
496 notes · View notes
enhaheeseung · 3 days
Text
SLEEP 🕒 - L. Heeseung
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🕒Pairing: Heeseung X fem reader!
🕒Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, cursing.
🕒Synopsis: it’s late, and you can’t sleep, but luckily, your best friend knows just the trick to help you out.
🕒Wc: 1,5k (Drabble)
-
Sighing to yourself, you set your phone down on the lamp stand after you noticed it was literally three in the morning.
You and your best friend had been watching movies talking and hanging out since ten and you hadn’t even noticed the time till now.
“You sleepy?” He turned to you just in time to catch you rubbing your strained eyes.
“Yes, it’s like three am, hee,” you groggily reply, turning on your left side facing away from him.
“Oh shit, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he chuckled. You could tell he was just as tired by how deep his voice had gotten.
“It's alright.” He set his phone aside as well and leaned up against the headboard.
“I guess I better get going.” On cue, he lets out a yawn.
“Are you crazy? It’s so late out you might as well just spend the night” you mumble out.
He rubbed his chin in thought; he was really tired, and driving probably wasn’t the best idea right now. “I didn’t bring anything for a sleepover.”
“Just wear whatever,” you respond, on the verge of passing out.
You feel a dip in the bed and hear him shuffling around. He takes off his pants and his flannel before he slips under the covers with you.
For most, it’d probably seem weird, a guy and a girl sleeping in the same bed, but the number of times you both knocked out together while studying during your high school and college days made this one of the most normal things between you two. “Goodnight, y/n. I might be gone before you wake up.”
“Just make sure to lock the door in the morning night, hee,” you whispered, turning off your lamp while he did the same after you.
You readjusted to get comfortable and pressed your cheek against your pillow, waiting for sleep to come over you.
Ten minutes passed, and sleep never came. You were tired, but for some reason, you just couldn’t fall asleep.
“Ugh,” you groaned and quickly cupped your mouth so you wouldn’t wake heeseung up with the racket.
Little did you know he was still wide awake.
“Y/n?” He asks, followed by a beat of silence. “You’re still up too?” He says with a hint of amusement in his tone. At least he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping.
“Yes,” you laid flat on your back, copying his resting position. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m tired, but I just can’t seem to sleep,” you respond in the pitch-black bedroom.
“Same,” he sighs, folding his arms over his chest.
You both lay there in silence for a few minutes until he says something that completely catches you off guard.
“I read that having an orgasm can help you fall asleep,” he says casually.
You giggle and push his shoulder, or at least you think it was his shoulder. It was so dark you really couldn’t see. “And where did you read that?”
“The internet, of course, says it has something to do with the release of oxytocin or some shit” he lets out an airy laugh putting his hands behind his head.
“Interesting,” you hum.
“It is, works like a charm for me,” he says through a yawn.
“TMI”
“Oh please, we’ve talked about so much shit that this is PG,” he scoffs.
“Yeah, but not you touching yourself.” You cringe as the words leave your mouth.
“I didn’t say anything like that. All I said was it works,” he shrugs even though you can’t see him.
“Whatever,” you say, too tired to argue with him.
It’s silent again, and the idea he mentioned sounds a lot more appealing than laying here all night without getting any sleep.
But you can’t necessarily try out this little theory of his with him in your room, so that idea was out the window.
“You still up?” He checks on you a minute later, and you hum in response. “I mean, I could give you one if you want,” he holds in his laugh, knowing that you’re about to chastise him.
“Lee heeseung, stop it this instant,” you tell him sternly.
“Okay, okay, just thought I’d ask. I’m your bestie, and besties look out for each other, right?” He continues to push your little buttons.
“Yeah, by giving a shoulder to cry on, not giving each other orgasms,” you huff out a breath.
A thought popped into your head: you weren’t getting any sleep anytime soon, and since he wanted to mess with you, two could play that game. “I mean, you could,” the words leave your mouth in a nonchalant manner.
He gasped, not expecting you to match his humor. Most times, you didn’t when it came to something sexual. “Knock it off. It’s weird when you joke about it,” he laughs.
“Who said I’m joking?” You taunt.
“Cause the y/n I know would never,” he says confidently, thinking he knows you like the back of his hand, and normally he does, but just not when you’re sleep-deprived.
“What about the y/n who’s in desperate need of sleep and will do anything just to catch a few hours before work in the morning?”
His ears are perked up now, the soft, sultry tone of your voice alerting him instantly. “You’re really not joking, are you?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?” You shift closer to him, and he feels your body heat right away, making his heart beat faster in his chest.
“I-I y/n, if you’re joking, just tell me.” his voice shakes a little, the slightest hint of a whimper traveling close behind his words.
Calling it quits with talking, you find his hand in the dark and grip his wrist, guiding him right between your legs. “Hee, I’d never joke about this,” you gasped as his warm hand cups over your mound.
“Fuck” he whispers and props himself on his side, slowly gliding his hand between your legs. “You really are serious, huh?” His voice sounds even huskier than it did before as he confidently presses your clit over your sleep shorts.
“Yes, hee,” you whine, desperation dripping from your voice as you clench your thighs around his hand, keeping it firmly nestled against you.
“Shit, okay, turn over for me” You get back in your original position, your back now pressed against his chest, his crotch a few inches away from your backside. “Now close your eyes.” his hot breath tickles your ear.
You do as he says, too tired to even think twice about what you’re getting ready to engage in with your best friend.
His two middle fingers rub circles on your clit, working you up quicker than you could have ever imagined. You’re already leaking a bit of precum.
“Mmm,” you moan softly. His fingers felt so good, especially when he slipped them further down, teasing your entrance while his palm rubbed your clit.
Your hand caressed the one that was between your legs, tracing the veins along the back of his hand. “Does that feel good?” He swallowed thickly, his lower body pressing against you unintentionally.
“Yes, hee, so good” he humps your backside, his swollen cock being stimulated by the softness of your plush bottom.
“Yeah, so good,” he whispers in your ear. You feel so good you don’t even notice the way he ruts against you, the movement of his hips forcing your waist to roll against his palm more, bringing you even more satisfaction.
“I’m so close, hee, I’m gonna cum” you cry out, body shuddering as the warmth and pleasure builds in your lower region.
“Shhh, I know, I know,” he breathes out heavily, placing a soft kiss on your cheek and a few more rolls of his hips. You’re both coming undone together, panting exhaustedly.
He rubs you through it, whispering encouraging words in your ear like. “Yeah, feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Let it all out,” “Keep cumming” “That’s it.”
The pleasure goes on for so long that another orgasm follows after giving you the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced. “Hee,” you whimper his name, your body trembling against his as you shudder in the aftermath of cumming back to back.
He nuzzles against you, cuddling you and helping you ground yourself until you catch your breath.
He’s still struggling to calm himself with how hard he just came. He hasn’t cum that fast and that much in a while. “Was that good?” He asked timidly into your hair, releasing a deep breath.
“Mmm,” you moan in response, your eyelids finally feeling so heavy that you can barely open them.
But you couldn’t forget about heeseung, so you flipped over on your side, your forehead touching his. “What about you?” You slowly reach into his boxers, gripping the base of his length, feeling a good amount of wetness covering his shaft.
“Ahh, s-sensitive,” he moans shakily.
You retract your hand right away. “Did you-“ he cuts you off, nodding against your forehead, and you slowly pull your hand out of his underwear.
“I’m good,” he assures you. “Let’s sleep now yeah? We’ll clean up in the morning” his words sound slurred and you can barely even understand what he’s saying cause you’re so tired.
Apparently, whatever he read about orgasms was true cause you’ve never fallen asleep faster.
-
Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️
492 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 1 day
Text
first moments
Tumblr media
words: 1.5k
warnings: mom!reader, dad!rafe, established relationship, brief hospital setting, anxiety (from rafe)
“rafe, wanna do chest to chest?” you hum, eyes mostly closed, the exhaustion from labor still affecting you.
“i…” he stares at you, and then at your son, resting against your chest, maternity dress pulled open so he's against your skin, his face resembling the exact same one rafe makes when he's sleeping. “its okay, you keep holding him.”
“okay.” you say, looking down at your son. it didn't take you long to decide on a name. leon andres cameron. leon after rafes grandfather and andres after your own. a good strong family name. 
“he's so perfect.” rafe whispers, his voice cracking slightly.
“come closer.” you beckon, rafe moving his chair closer, but still keeping his distance, making you frown. “what's wrong?”
rafes mouth opens, but no words come out. you pause, hand petting over leons back.
“wait…” your mind starts to piece together, still foggy from the delivery and drugs. “you haven't held him yet.”
“i-” rafe stumbles over his words, knowing he's been caught. “i can't. he's too tiny. too perfect. i-i don't want to ruin him.”
“ruin him?” you frown. “rafe, you're his father. get over here.”
you struggle to scooch over on the hospital bed, but manage to make room for rafe to sit down next to you. he even sits carefully, gnawing at his lip as you turn leon over, keeping him asleep as you turn him face up, supporting his neck the whole time.
“just cradle your arms. it's okay, you'll get used to it.” you watch as rafe moves his arms before placing leon in them, having to cover your mouth when the sudden urge to cry hits you, leon looking even smaller being held by your husband.
“i love him.” rafe whispers, voice cracking, a few tears sliding down his cheeks. “i love him so much.”
“look how relaxed he is in your arms.” you coo. “i knew you'd be a good dad.”
--
“god, im so nervous.” rafe looks in the backseat where you’re sitting, leon buckled tight into the carseat.
“its okay.” you hum, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “just drive slow.” “yeah, of course.” rafe nods. he barely puts the car above 15 miles per hour the entire ride home. leon thankfully stays asleep, you’re not sure if you could have handled just leaving the hospital and having him crying on the way home.
“okay, here.” rafe takes a deep breath as he pulls the car into the garage.
“you got his carseat?” you ask. your body is still recovering from birth, and you’re not sure if you can lift anything up without tearing.
“yeah.” rafe undoes the carseat carefully as you get out and unlock the house, happy to be home after two days spent in the hospital.
“mmm.” you breathe in the fresh air. “my eyes are so happy after all that fluorescent light.”
“um- watch out baby.” rafe hates having to have you move out of the way so quickly, but he can hear leon beginning to fuss and needs to get him inside.
you giggle and step away, watching as rafe quickly rushes to unbuckle him. he looks to you to get him out of the carrier, but you allow rafe to scoop him up, shushing him and gently rocking him back and forth.
--
“i got it.” rafe offers.
“no, he's hungry.” you groan, already feeling your breasts swelling with milk just from hearing his cry. “i can tell.”
“im sorry, baby.” rafe sighs, staying in bed as he tries to get back to sleep. no point having both of you completely exhausted.
you manage to settle leon, feeding him in the rocking chair rafe got you before you gave birth. he almost wakes when you transfer him back to the crib, but you get him down and back to rafe, crawling into bed next to him.
“i wish i could do more.” rafe sighs. so much of you is required from leon, not just the pregnancy but now needing to feed him. rafe tries to take care of anything else you could need, but he struggles with not knowing how to do things as basic as changing diapers.
“you're learning fast, rafe. it's okay.” you move closer so rafe can hold you, snuggling into your back, his hand gently rubbing over your hip.
“i don't deserve you.” you know it's just the exhaustion talking. you grip his hand in yours, squeezing three times, saying the words without needing to speak.
“we should sleep while he's asleep.” you say, rafe nodding and pressing kisses to your shoulders and upper back until you're pulled back to sleep.
--
“shh, leon, it's okay.” rafe looks around for you, surely you must have heard leons cries. you said you'd be just a minute, running to the beauty aisle to grab your conditioner before returning to rafe shopping for groceries.
rafe pushes the brim of the carrier back, his heart breaking as his sons little face scrunches with big tears rolling down his cheeks.
rafe isn't sure what to do, so he just lets his instincts guide him as he quickly undoes the seatbelt and lifts leon into his chest, being careful to hold his head just as you instructed.
the second leon is against rafes, his cries lessen, and then all together subside as rafe bounces gently.
“is he okay?” rafe looks up to see you hustling down the aisle towards him.
“yeah, he was upset but i got him.” rafe pats leons back gently, turning his head to press a kiss against his cheek.
“okay.” you let out a sigh of relief, tossing your conditioner into the grocery cart. “want me to take him?”
“no, im good.” rafe shifts leon a little as you start to walk, pushing the carrier and loading the bottom up with more groceries, especially all the things you couldn't have while pregnant but are now safe despite still breastfeeding.
rafe doesn't miss the way you keep looking over at him with light in your eyes, excitement evident at seeing how comfortable rafe is becoming with leon held snuggly in his arms.
--
“are you sure?” you ask, frowning as your eyes flicker between leon laying on the couch cushion and rafe sitting next to him, focus on your baby as he makes silly faces at him.
“baby, i know i struggled at first, but this is one weekend. you have plenty of milk pumped. ill be fine.” rafe scoops leon into his arms as he stands, walking towards you.
“besides, if i need help i can always call your mom. even wheezie, you know she'll be happy to see leon.” rafe shifts the baby to one arm while his free hand comes to cup your cheek. “go. please, i will miss you and leon will too, but you deserve a break.”
“okay.” you nod, getting on your tip toes to press a kiss to rafes lips before also kissing leon, who lets out a familiar cooing sound.
“im gonna text my girls.” you can't hide the excitement in your voice, pulling out your phone to confirm you'll be able to go to the girls spa weekend away. 
“i want nightly face times with you though baby.” you poke leons little nose, whose cheeks stretch into a smile.
--
“oh my god, rafe, is everything okay?” you squeal, squinting at the screen as if it'll somehow make leon appear.
“yes! fine, i promise.” rafe points the camera down so you can see leon happily on his lap, already looking tired as bedtime is quickly approaching.
“why didn't you pick up the first time?” you ask, a lot calmer now that you have eyes on your baby.
“leon and i were just getting home. i took him to the park. he couldn't really do anything but be in the carrier but he liked watching the other kids play.” rafe looks down at leon, giving him a little tickle under the chin. “isn't that right buddy?”
“did you-”
“yes, i put sunscreen on him. and he wore a hat. and-” rafe stresses before you can interrupt. “i reapplied sunscreen after an hour.”
“you're the best.” you smile. “you know i never doubted you rafe, it's just-” you take a deep sigh. “i worry so much about him. and making sure he's happy.”
“and he is.” rafe assured you. “look at his little face.”
you feel tears well up in your eyes as you look at your husband and your son, snuggled together on the couch. you quickly take a screenshot while they both have smiles on their faces.
“you're such a good mama. leons lucky to have you, and so am i.”
the tears are now falling down your cheeks as you smile. “i love you.”
“i love you too. and we miss you, but go enjoy your night with the girls!”
“okay.” you nod. “you're right. ill be home tomorrow around noon.”
“got it.” rafe holds the camera closer to leon. “say bye bye to mommy, leon.”
the call ends with his smiling face looking back at yours.
sfw taglist: @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen
504 notes · View notes
rizsu · 2 days
Text
food for thought, except it’s unwanted jujutsu kaisen : fem-reader.
have you ever wondered about a scenario so much that you must ask? well that’s exactly the last thing they’d wish to answer.
+ love ‘su: gojo, geto, itadori + ‘live, laugh, love’ hater final boss ( sukuna )
Tumblr media
gojo satoru ノ refuses to answer.
“do you ever think about how it’d be if we never met?”
“ha— no. don’t even go there.”
satoru stops you there. he doesn’t wish to hear another word from you— especially if it extends your former question. he thinks about it— daily, in fact. it's a scenario that crosses his mind whenever he finds himself drunk on the temporary love he receives from you.
you’ve sung the lyric ‘i’ll love you until there’s no more left’ almost every week for him, silently begging that he gets the concept of genuine love through his head.
“why not? imagine if my friends didn’t make that bet where i either hit on you or pay for the night.” you reminisced, remembering the very night you lost the last touch of shame.
he hums, drumming his fingers on your thigh.
“bet or not, we’d still be fated to meet. next question!”
“anddd what makes you so confident?” you threw another question at him. this time, it's lighthearted.
“mind you, i’m the second coming of an angel. i predetermined this since three years ago.”
glances were exchanged, an expression of a grinning fool met the expression of a glaring responsible person who’s the said fool’s other romantic half.
you should've been familiar with satoru’s ways. it’s your fault for expecting a deep-dive conversation with satoru. not quite his cup of tea!
Tumblr media
geto suguru ノ expects it and tries to escape.
suguru's home was no new, unexplored area to you. you knew his home's blueprint like the back of your hand. if needed, you'd walk through his home blindfolded and still end up in the room you want to be in.
this isn't a good thing to suguru. there are days where the feeling of confusion as to who he is piles up on him, leading him to isolate himself.. until he forgets there's a spare key of his isolation cube in your hold so now the plan goes awry.
that is exactly what’s happening. after he sent the text ‘k bye’ and silenced his notifications, he felt an impending doom. the reason was unknown by then but he should've guessed it was you.
you marched into his home, readying yourself with suguru-loneliness-begone techniques and, of course, the question that's been wandering your mind since you woke up from a dream.
“babe, what if—”
“fuck,” he curses under his breath, too exhausted to put a hand over your mouth.
“what if we were the last persons on earth? would you recreate humanity with me or kill yourself?”
there it is: your special ‘what if’ questions that know no bounds when it comes to absurdity.
“when would that ever happen? please, stop this,” he groans, pleading with his eyes for you to stop.
“that's the thing— you never know! so, what option is it?”
“i'd kill myself a long time ago if possible.”
“so it's the second one?”
“i'm... not cut out to be a good father.”
“i hate an indecisive bitch, my goodness,” it's your turn to complain, a little let down at his grey answers.
suguru's equally offended. you're the one who jumped him with such a question— who even thinks about that?!
“(y/n), baby, has it ever crossed your mind that your thinking skills aren't quite normal?”
“are you calling me stupid?!”
Tumblr media
itadori yuuji ノ just as stupid.
it's mango season— yuuji's most anticipated season of the year. mangoes are to yuuji what your lipbalm is to you. a necessity, a survival item, a lifesaver, an important part of his lore, something he worships.
peeling mangoes and slicing them to equal pieces has never brought him such satisfaction before. it immediately brightens his mood. this must be how his grandfather felt whenever he took a walk around the neighbourhood.
now you appear, yuuji's second most anticipated person. you to yuuji is what mangoes are to him. this causes yuuji's current happiness level to reach its peak today. such a great level of happiness can defeat any evil being with just being in its area.
“say, yuu,” you begin, stabbing one of the mangoe slices with a fork.
he nods, signalling that he's listening but still focused on his current activity. a true mulit-tasker.
“if one of your limbs happen to detach from your body, do you feel the pain or does the pain go with it?”
he stops, allowing the question to sink in. he's never been asked such a.. divine question before. what's the answer? does the pain go with the limb or does it stay?
“oh... i gotta ask nobara this, she'd know,” he suggests, placing the knife down. a question that'll haunt him if he doesn't act quick for the answer.
“yes, yes!!” you encourage his actions, mindlessly enjoying the mango slices. mangoes are truly a blessing.
Tumblr media
sukuna ryomen ノ no. nice try, though! A+ for effort.
“ryo, have you ever wondered if—”
“no, i never.”
“you didn't even let—”
“i haven't learnt since two-thousand years ago.”
“you old fuck, let me finish—”
“it's truly been a while since i've wondered.”
“DAMN, BITCH!”
you threw the remote at him, ultimately fed up with him cutting you off before the peak of the sentence. it could've been the question of the year and he'd still dodge it.
sukuna invited himself over since he ran out of entertainment options and you're always there for him. unfortunately, you do not find him as entertainin. he's annoying, arrogant, and attractive so it cancels out the negatives about him.
of course, sukuna caught the remote. his athletic capabilities are its prime despite him being dormant for centuries. it'd be a white lie to say he's not interested in your question, however it is way more benefitting to push your buttons.
he throws the remote back onto your bed, drying his hands with your hand-towel before making his merry way to you.
“your bed's small.”
“well no shit. it's for ME.”
“you mad? you look mad.” his hand holds your chin, turning your head side-to-side to observe your expression.
you rolled your eyes, “i don't get mad that easily.”
“is this how people felt when i told them an obvious lie? i should repent.”
Tumblr media
541 notes · View notes
enwoso · 23 hours
Text
IN PLAIN SIGHT — alessia russo
as promised and by very popular demand!! not even gonna lie i kinda love how this turned out:)
mainly just fluff but a little suggestive;)
Tumblr media
navigation
being on england camp was something you always loved, being able to represent your country at the highest level was something you could only dream of when you were growing up, wanting nothing more than to follow in your big sisters footsteps.
being surrounded by your friends, your older sister leah all while being able to play the sport that you loved was something that never felt real.
"and then keira said- your not even listenin'!" leah huffed throwing her arms up in the air as you glanced from your phone placing it face down on your sisters bed as she turned to face you.
"i was!" you smiled sweetly in your defence, hoping leah would buy it and carry on with what ever she had been talking about as in reality you hadn't the simplest idea of what she had been talking about for the past twenty minutes.
"mhm, you looked it too!" leah sassed as your rolled your eyes at your older sister's dramatics. "anyways who you textin' with such a cheesy grin on your little face" she asked as your smile dropped a little. "don't think i didn't notice"
"i- uh just a friend" you stutter as leah raised an eyebrow clearly not satisfied with your answer but you weren't ready to tell her the truth of who you were actually texting out of pure fear of her reaction.
"and does said friend have a name?" leah smiled as she moved to sit next to you on her bed as your brain worked fast to try and figure out a way out of answering the question.
"oh it's just an old school friend, i don't-"
"yeah i remember your school friends which one?" you could tell leah didn't believe a single word that was coming from your mouth as she was sat with a look that you knew and seen quite a few time when you were growing up as she was trying to squeeze the actual truth from you but you were giving her no luck.
"um i don't think you met this one, anyways it's getting late i should probably get back to my room, busy day of training tomorrow" you rambled out quickly getting up from leah's bed as quickly as you could before she had the chance to bombard you with anymore questions saying a quick goodbye to your sister as you left.
walking down the corridor of st george's park in direction of a certain someone's room instead of your own, looking over your shoulder every so often to make sure that none of of the england girls where around to see your movements.
three knocks on the door in the same pattern you always did, as a few seconds passed before the door opened, alessia stood with a soft smile on her face as she let you in quickly shutting the door behind her.
"hi love" she mumbled into your hair as you wrapped your arms around her waist mumbling a hello against her as she lifted you up and walked from the doorway to her bed, lying down on it as all you could hear was her heart beating against her chest drowning out the sound of the tv playing a series that alessia had clearly been watching to pass time.
"m’sorry it took me so long to come, i was with leah" you said quietly moving so that the two of you were more comfy.
the blonde shaking her head, "it's okay, i knew that's where you'd be - so actually i was expecting you to be longer!" she assured you as you laughed a little at the last part knowing that leah loved to talk, your older sister always having something to say or comment on.
not always the shy angel that some thought she was - that being only reserved for those she wasn't as comfortable around.
as for you and alessia, nobody knew about your relationship. everyone saw the two of you as best friends and while you were to the outside, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes it had blossomed into something more meaningful, the two of you wrapped up in your own little love bubble.
you'd know alessia for a while having grown up with her and a lot of the current england squad in the youth teams all together however it wasn't until the world cup when you both admitted your feelings to each other a few weeks later after the heartbreak of the final, you finally after years of dancing around the bush asked alessia to be your girlfriend.
the two of you had been together now for seven months. and with each day that passed you were more and more scared of your older sisters reaction to you dating alessia.
you had grown bored of the series alessia was watching your fingers trailing up and down the blondes arm in hope you would peel her attention from the tv screen and onto you instead.
at first you were having no look until you felt a slight shiver from the girl, her face turning to look at you a sheepish smile appearing on your face. “hi”
“hi” she breathed out her face inches away from touching yours. the blonde looking into your blue orbs, deciding if she was going to make the move or if she was waiting for you to, seconds later bringing her hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and using her thumb to run across your cheekbones, pulling you that little bit closer to her.
you allowing alessia to pull you, your faces stopping that mere millimetre away from each other, alessia’s hand remaining in its place. taking in being able to feel your soft skin under her finger tips again.
your lips barely grazing, but you could feel your breath mixing together.
“please” you whimpered, unable to stop the begging tone from the slowness of the build up as it was killing you. “what?” alessia innocently asked as you rolled your eyes.
you could feel alessia’s lips graze yours as you moved that little bit closer, your lips now ever so slightly touching.
“just kiss me-“ you breathed out, alessia nodding and moving her head forward allowing your lips to connect properly. you both taking a deep breath at the familiar tingles from your connection.
your hand resting on the blondes thigh, squeezing it slightly as the blonde let out a small moan, finally getting the sound you’d been craving.
alessia ran her hand that was previously on your cheek to the back of your neck, “i love you” alessia moaned into the kiss, her breath hitching as she felt your tongue come out and graze her bottom lip. alessia bringing her own out to touch yours, you squeezing alessia’s thigh in response.
“i love you so much” you whispered against her lips, as you felt alessia pull lightly on the back of your hair. “wish i could stay with you tonight” you added as you both pulled away to regain your breath.
“someone would definitely get suspicious then, love” she smiled softly, her pupils dilated as she looked at you so in love.
you frowned for a split second, before moving to straddle the blonde as her hands quickly found your waist you the one this time to rest your hands on her neck.
leaning in ever so slightly, “we better make good use of the time we have together then!” you whispered, alessia seeing a change in your eyes, they were darker as you continued leaning in trailing kissing from her jawline down to her neck.
finding the skin of her neck between your lips as you kissed her neck with a little more pressure, your teeth nipping slightly at the skin. knowing exactly where and how she liked to be kissed, as alessia’s grip on your waist tightened as small whines fell from her lips.
“i- fuck, babe, no marks please” she cursed under her breath, as you hummed against her skin, however you knew you couldn’t make any promises to the blonde.
sitting down with georgia and ella while you ate breakfast conversating over small things as well as the next matches that were in a few days time.
“less is late down today?" georgia said out of the blue, your eyebrows raising a little, "she's probably still doin' her hair- y'know what she's like!" ella rolled her eyes as you nodded a long agreeing with the two of them.
you’d left alessia’s room early this morning after falling asleep in her room last night, not wanting to have to explain to any of your teammates why you’d be in there when they came to knock on for the blonde.
doing your usual routine of kissing her forehead, mumbling an ‘i love you’ and sending her a text message for when she woke up so she knew where you’d be before leaving to your own room to get ready.
your shrugged your shoulders as you put another spoonful of your breakfast into your mouth and the topic changed once again.
"so in ireland we need to go and try-" you were in the middle of a new topic of things you may have time to see and do in your short trip to ireland for the next match when all of a sudden milk is being sprayed from ella’s mouth and all of you.
"ELLA! what the fuck man!" you groan loudly looking down at your now soaking wet training jumper. "ay language!" you heard leah yell over from another table rolling your eyes you turned back to ella and georgia who were both sat opposite you as milk dripped down your face.
"what was that for?" you ask, moving quickly to take your jumper off, leaving you in your training top. you look up to georgia and ella who are both sending gawk eyes at whoever is stood behind you.
"what- oh hey lessi" you gave her a small smile as she stood stone faced behind you, wincing as you realised why she had that look on her face.
a hickey that you’d given her from last night had formed on her neck all red and purple, you could tell she’d try to put concealer over it however it wasn’t enough to cover it.
“oo um, you sleep well?” you cringed sending the blonde a sorry look as you watched the ella and georgia burst out laughing the two nearly on the verge of crying with laughter, you not totally understanding what was so funny.
“less- if you ask, the kitchen staff they may be able to give you a whisk!” ella joked in between her loud laughs with georgia, a few of the girls around the room looking over to your table with confused looks as alessia scoffed walking away in the direction of the where the food was being served to get her own breakfast.
you felt yourself sink further into the chair, unsure of how the next few minutes were going to go, georgia and ella finally beginning to stop laughing. “so you and less huh?” georgia wiggled her eyebrows.
“um- wait how do you know?” you asked, pushing the rest of your breakfast around with your spoon.
“well one you’ve just confirmed our suspicions and two it was pretty obvious mate” georgia pointed out as they both began to list out interactions they had noted between you and the blonde.
it ranging from little looks they’d noticed to the small touches and how you would act around each other when you both thought nobody was watching you.
“and from then, the whole team realised you were both together” ella finished as you hummed along, alessia now sat down next to you eating her own breakfast, your ears perking up at the sound of the words ‘whole team’
did that mean leah already knew too?
“what do you mean whole team?” you said calmly however you could feel your heart racing. alessia sensing your panic as she placed her hand on your knee to reassure you.
“well everyone had their suspicions, even leah” ella shrugged as your eyes widen but you were also wondering why she had never brought it up to you.
“um, i’ll be back” you shot up out your seat, rushing off towards your sister before they had a chance to ask where you were going.
the three watching as you rushed off in direction of type sisters table.
“le, can i talk to you?” you said quickly, startling your sister at your presence as she sat with keira, beth, millie and mary.
“yeah, what’s wrong?” she smiled turning to face you as you stood to the side of her, leah’s arm rest in on the back of the chair, noticing your panicked state.
“in private” you mumbled, your eyes flicking towards the two girls leah was sat with. your sister nodded as she began to stand up, telling the two girls she would be back in a minute as you both began to walk outside of the canteen.
“what’s wrong, why you all nervous?” leah asked, worried look growing on her face with each passing second as you both stood in the hallway of st george’s park. you fidgeting with the rings in your fingers as your tried to find you words.
“so, do you um- know about me” you trailed off, stumbling over your words as leah smiled to herself nodding knowing now exactly what you were going to say.
“about you and alessia being in a relationship? she finished your sentence for you, you head snapping up at your sisters words as you shyly nodded biting your top lip to stop the big grin from appearing on your face as you still were unsure of her initial reaction.
“of course, you two are not very discreet y’know- basically in plain sight!” leah laughed a little to herself as your smile slowly started to grow.
“but you do know that you live with me and i’ve heard quite a few of your conversations with each other over the past few months!” leah pointed out as you face frozefor a minute, your cheeks starting to go all hot and probably red as your brain replayed a few of yours and alessia’s conversation, some definitely not what you want your older sister to be over hearing.
“how come you never told me?” leah asked as you shrugged, you knew why but you weren’t sure if you were ready to admit that out loud to your older sister.
you sighed, “just didn’t know how you were gonna react, i guess”
“your so stupid at times, along as your happy i don’t care who your dating!” leah laughed as she pulled you in for a hug as you rolled your eyes at her harmless insult.
“sorry for not telling you” you smiled as leah nodded her hand waving backwards dismissing your comment.
“but if alessia ever breaks your heart, i will not hesitate to make her life a living hell!” leah said in her serious tone, her face dropping to that scary glare she did all too easily as she rambled on about giving alessia the talk later on.
you groaning as you rolled your eyes at your older sister protectiveness, nudging her a little as you both walked back into the canteen.
“hey! i’m just looking out for my baby sister!”
(pretend it’s you and less!)
y/nwilliamson
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by keirawalsh and 732,549 others
y/nwilliamson forgot to mention🩷 @alessia
comments —
ellatoone and they thought we didn’t know🙄😅
1h         194 likes reply
leahwilliamson happy for you both but i was being serious about my last part - i’m watching you russo!
1h         327 likes reply
-> alessia 🫡
-> y/nwilliamson stop acting all tough! your a big softie!!
keirawalsh is this the hard launch?
1h         110 likes reply
-> y/nwilliamson something like that🤔
.
420 notes · View notes
elaci · 1 day
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You spur Art onto a rougher persona in the bedroom, and in turn make Patrick a very jealous man.
cw; voyeurism, f receiving oral, public sex.
Art Donaldson, Patrick Zweig x fem!reader | The Rule of Thirds masterlist | talk to me!
Tumblr media
Art Donaldson is good with his tongue.
He speaks well, calls you nice things and praises your every action. You’ve learnt over the past month that he’s glad to have someone to coo over, someone who isn’t there to correct him but rather be connected to him— you sit and watch his games in supportive adoration rather than in scrutiny. He isn’t afraid to fuck up, isn’t afraid of your loss of attention, isn’t afraid of you. He thanks you for your companionship with his tongue; whether it's a sweet word rolled off the length of it, or a deep kiss in which he traverses your mouth with it, or a solid few hours spent lapping at your pussy like a thirst-driven man.
You thank him for his tongue with a memento to keep, a photo or three of his devotion to you. He keeps them in his bedside drawer, all titled differently, all of depraved things that should never see the light lest he wants to lose any chance at publicity.
Though some of the photos are sweet. There’s one in particular pinned to a posterboard in his dorm room, one you let him take of you after he had taken you out for food one night, your face messy with dinner and your grin wide at Art’s proposal of ice-cream for dessert. It’s a blurred photo, but he’s getting better at capturing you in the right light, he enjoys it, even. Some days you’ll return from class to find a new pack of film on your bed, Art almost more eager than you to fall subject to your artform.
He takes care of you, he’s sweet beyond belief. You aren’t dating, you don’t think so at least, but he treats you like his girlfriend— holds your hand as you walk through campus, holds your hand as you cum on his dick, holds your hand as you cuddle after the fact. He loves your hands, how they fit in his, and he loves your eyes too, and your voice and your ass and your—
“I’ll be there tomorrow morning, we can go eat before your match.”
Patrick’s voice is a little static through Art’s phone, especially with it being on loudspeaker. Art struggles to hear his friend through the phone that sits on his bedside table, he blames the shitty service he gets from his dorm room, but the fact that you’re sitting on his cock and biting at his ear might also be the cause of his hard hearing.
“Sorrywhatwasthat?” Art manages, furrowing his eyebrows as he tries to focus on Patrick’s voice rather than the roll of your hips atop his and the feel of your hands on his chest and your tongue trailing across his jawline.
“I’m in Stanford tomorrow. For your match. Are you okay?” There’s a tone that laces his voice even through the static, Art can hear the growing smile on his lips.
“Yeah. Sorry, uh,” Art has to use both hands to hold you down on his cock to stop your incessant bouncing so he can think for a moment. “Shitty service.”
You frown against his neck, where you kiss languidly, and lean up a little to whisper lowly into his ear, “I want you to cum on my tits and take a photo.”
“Fuck,” Art bites his tongue only after the words spilt from his lips.
There’s silence, and then a sudden burst of laughter from the phone. “Are you jerking off right now?”
“No.”
“You are. You’re jerking off, I could fucking hear you.”
You grin, but Art cups a hand over your mouth before a word falls from your lips. He clears his throat and blinks a few times. “I’m not jerking off, Patrick, I’m just tired. I’ve been training all day.”
“It’s lunchtime, Art.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Art says, giving you a look as you dart your tongue out to lick the palm of his hand that covers your mouth. You try and roll your hips some more, find some friction you desperately need with Art’s cock, but all it does is make his grip on you tighten. With you still, he's able to focus on Patricks words and muster up something that resembles a conversation. "What time will you get here?"
"Early," you can hear Patrick shuffling around through the phone. "Do you know if Tashi's busy? We could meet for breakfast, make it a double date."
Art catches the furrow of your eyebrows and uncovers your mouth to lean forward and give you a kiss in lieu of the distraction your tongue is offering. You almost let yourself get lost in the kiss, you almost let your mind empty, but Patrick’s words ring in your ears and within a moment you’re turning your head and plucking Art’s phone from the bedside table.
“You’re dating Tashi Duncan?” You speak into the phone, very suddenly making your presence known. Art tries to grab at his phone, but you hold it away from him and frown at his attempts.
“You didn’t tell her?” Patrick speaks to Art rather than you, and you can imagine the dumbstruck look on his face.
Art takes a moment to look between you and his phone, silently debating whether he should try and reach for it again, but ultimately decides against it. Instead, he shrugs, sweat sticks his hair to his forehead— “It never came up. She’s been away for like… two weeks now.”
“Wow,” you and Patrick say in unison, though Patrick adds a ‘hi, by the way’ on to the end for good measure.
“Hi, Zweig,” you speak into the phone.
“Are you mad? Tashi is fine with me seeing other people if that’s—”
You cut him off with a laugh as Art's hands wrap around you and roam over the expanse of your back. “I’m not mad,” you say. “More like jealous: Tashi Duncan is the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. I’d kill someone to know what she tastes like. God, the photos I could take…”
There’s silence on the other end of the line. You wonder if Patrick is blushing pink like Art is right now, lips curled into an almost relieved smile. You wonder what runs through their heads, whether they too are imagining the sight; Tashi Duncan in front of your lens, something angelic.
“Wait, are you two fucking right now?”
Art chokes out a laugh, forehead falling to rest on your shoulder as you grin, despite Patrick’s inability to see it. You had almost gotten so used to the feeling of cockwarming Art that it felt natural, like chasing a climax is unnecessary when you feel so full and whole just sitting on his cock.
“Yes, and I was close to finishing before you called, so thanks for that.”
You’re about to click Arts phone off and return to business when you hear a shuffle from the other end of the line, and then Patrick speaks. “Leave the phone on.”
A moment of contemplation, Arts eyes meeting yours. He shrugs, unopposed to letting his best friend listen in on your intimacies— the ball is in your court.
“No,” you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “You’re in time out, you should have told me about Tashi— bye!”
“Hey wait don’t—”
The line dies and Art’s phone is thrown haphazardly onto the bedside table. He smiles when you turn back to him, those pretty lips of his curled upwards in amusement at your ways.
“You’re evil,” he smiles into the kiss he gives you, sweet as always. “He’s probably rock hard and hating life.”
“Hope so,” you joke, leaning into Art and rolling your hips again, relighting the burning need in both of your chests. Art groans as you hold onto his shoulders, slide up on his cock and then push your weight back down. Your movements are halted, however, by Art’s hands on your waist.
“Wait,” his words are breathless. “I’m sorry for not telling you about Tashi. I didn’t want you to—”
“I’m not mad,” you roll your hips. "It's not like you're the one dating her, and I'd assume you aren't thinking about her rather than me right now—" you pause. "Unless you are doing that. Is that why you're apologi—”
“Jesus Christ no,” Art chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “It's just.... we had something last year, me and Patrick... with Tashi. Now it's just them."
"Oh," you raise your brows in curiosity. "Lucky you. So you have a habit of fucking the same girl then?"
Art rolls his eyes, catching on to your teasing tone. "We didn't fuck," he assures you. "We just... made out. We had a match the next day, Tashi gave her number to the winner."
You nod and hum quietly, biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing out loud. You can hear Art's stuttered laugh exhaling through his nose and almost break into laughter at the thought of his face losing a match with stakes like those. "I'm sorry," you cover your mouth with your hand to try and stifle your laughter. "I'm not laughing at you I just, that must have been the worst fucking day of your life."
Art laughs even harder than you do. "Don't rub it in, I'm over it."
"So you aren't in love with Tashi Duncan?"
Art shakes his head. He pauses, his laughter subsiding. "...No."
"She's hot, Art. Hot like the sun," you sing Tashi's praises. "Who wouldn't be infatuated? How could you resist her? She's sexy."
Art swallows, his grip on you tightens. There it is, that warmth in your chest, that tightening in your stomach. Art tries to hide his face, press a kiss to your shoulder, but you card your fingers through his hair and pull his gaze back to meet yours. "You're too sweet on me, Art. I'm hurt," you tease, watching as his eyes flit from yours to your lips, to your tits and rolling hips. You test the waters; "do you think Patrick is this sweet on Tashi?"
"What?" Art's eyebrows furrow, but you can feel his cock twitch inside of you at the image forming in his head.
"Patrick isn't a sweetheart," you shake your head. "I'd know. I think he fucks Tashi how he fucked me; mean. Mean and selfish. And I think she's worse in return."
Art bites back a moan, lets you start moving up and down on his cock again, closes his eyes, relishes in the thought. It makes him ache, that image in his mind, but he can see it so clearly: Patricks pace, the possessive grip he has, that way he groans when he's breathless and nearing the edge. Fuck, he can hear it, he can hear her, he can hear you.
"Do you think he fucks better knowing he has what you don't?” you ask, your voice dropping lower, your hips moving quicker. “That you lost?"
"Shh," Art whispers desperately. He starts to rock his hips up into you, "just shut up."
You grin, "you like this, don’t you? This jealousy. You like knowing that if you got the chance, you'd change her mind— I've never seen you like this."
"Well I am—" Art mumbles, pressing wet kisses to your throat, to your collarbone, "—with you, not her, not him."
"Are you with me?" you breathe, arching your back as Art continues to grind into you. "Where are you in that pretty head of yours? Here, or with them?"
He looks up, eyes hooded, and his expression is unreadable. It's like he's searching your eyes for the answer you want him to give you.
“I’m not your girlfriend, Art. You don’t have to pretend to only have eyes for me, Patrick fucks good and Tashi probably fucks better.”
"Fuck you," his words are sudden, less angry than desperate. He's wrapping an arm around your waist and rolling you onto your back in just a second flat, pushing himself deep into you as presses your body into his innerspring mattress. He pushes forward and his thrusts are harsh, powerful and unforgiving. You gasp at the change of pace, but don't protest. You want this: the burning passion, the anger, the newfound pulsing in your cunt as Art drills into you. The heat of him is intoxicating, and it feels almost foreign at this pace. Like a new sensation and a forbidden thrill: it fills your whole body, every single vein, every single cell, every single inch of skin until there's nothing left behind but Art. His name on your lips and his sweat on your skin, his body heavy atop you. All encompassing, all consuming.
You're not sure if it's him or you who comes first, but Art is ordering his name from your lips like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth, to reality. He fucks you senseless, near bruises your cervix with the way his hips snap into yours even through your shared orgasms. Still, though, through the heavy-weighted feelings and sinful fantasies you share, Art takes your hand in his and holds it tight as you come undone. He may be acting like Patrick, but he's far from.
He stays seated deep inside of you once the waves of ecstasy wash away from the two of you, his chest heaving against your own. He doesn't move his hand from yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the side of your knuckles as he catches his breath.
"God, Art," you mutter, running a finger down his spine with your free hand. "I need to poke at your jealous side more often."
Art snorts, briefly into your eyes. "You want me to think of other people as I fuck you? Cuck."
"Cuck?" you parrot, smirking. You tilt your head towards him and lick your lips with interest before kissing him. The kiss is fleeting and chaste, yet still somehow filled with everything you've felt since he pulled your legs around his waist and buried his throbbing cock into you. "I'm not the cuck," you breathe against his lips. "Patrick is."
"What do you mean?" Art presses an unknowing kiss to the corner of your lips. You laugh breathily as he slides out of you gently, allowing your thighs to fall off from his hips. You hold his gaze still, the ghost of mischief pulling at the corners of your lips, and Art slowly puts the pieces together in his head. His eyes snap to his phone on the bedside table, screen still lit; ONGOING CALL.
"You hung up though?" Art scrambles to grab his phone and hold it to his ear. He's met with songs of Patrick's laughter, along with the sound of rustling clothes as he moves. "Patrick? Seriously? Did you jerk off to that?"
"What makes you think that?" Patrick replies through the phone, voice breathy and husky, the low timbre sending shivers down Art's spine despite his embarrassment. "I'm not a perv."
Art has to bite his lip to stop laughter from breaking out of his chest. "You absolutely are a fucking perv."
"Sorry, what was that? I thought I heard you say 'Patrick, I just came to the thought of fucking my girl as good as you fuck yours', my mistake."
"I took him off speaker," you loll your head to the side, watching him for any signs of genuine anger. Besides the pink tint to his cheeks, something tells you that he's enjoying this, maybe the fact that his cock is already growing hard again. You can feel a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips when Art gives you a look of hushed approval.
"Goodbye Patrick," he speaks sternly into the phone, and then hangs up before his friend can beg to bear witness to round two. Art sighs, looks at you for a moment and then grins, "you're evil."
You shrug, biting your lip to try and contain yourself. You push some of your hair from your face and watch Art turn to rummage around next to the bed. You wonder for a moment if he's actually mad, if you've crossed a line you didn't know existed, but a sudden flash cures your racing mind. Art is smiling, your camera in hand as he looks at the image he had just taken.
"Hey that's my good camera," you huff as he tosses your Canon onto the mattress next to you.
"I know," Art grunts a little as he lowers himself to his knees between your legs. "I want him to know I've tasted more of you, and you can't email Polaroids.”
"But—"
Art bites the inside of your thigh, hard. "Shut up and take your photos, baby.”
SIX YEARS LATER
"I'm sorry, but we've decided to go with Rikki. We saw the shots she took for the Donaldsons’ wedding and just fell in love; have you seen them? Such a photogenic couple, we're hoping Rikki will capture us half as well."
You don't realise there's a sour look on your face until the couple standing in front of you both frown. Their faces match each other, but not in a cute married-couple sense: they look like siblings. The same nose, the same boring eyes and shit-smearing obsession with the fucking Donaldson's and their stupid fucking destination wedding shoot you've flicked through thirty times in the last two days.
"So I drove an hour to get fired," you say, rather than ask.
The wife, who wears a frilly top with so many sequins stuck onto the hem that they're starting to fall off in patches, nods. "Oh honey," she pouts. "Don't be sad! You aren't even a wedding photographer, are you? You wouldn't understand how exciting these things can be!" She grabs her fiancé by the elbow. "Right, darling?"
Her fiancé replies in a grunt of agreement, though you doubt he had much say (or interest) in who takes the photos as long as they can get the right angles to slim him down a bit. You try not to roll your eyes, fingers drumming on the café table that separates you and the soon-to-be-weds.
"So have you seen them?" The woman looks giddy, smiling at you from across the table.
"Seen what?" You ask, watching as she pulls her phone from her pocket and starts tapping on its screen.
"The Donaldson's wedding photos, John and I are huge tennis fans, I don't know if you know of them? Gorgeous couple, If I were a few years younger I'd be fishing to be their third!" She lets out a loud cackle at her own statement and slides her phone across the table for you to see, there on her screen, a gorgeous wide shot of the wedding party. In the middle, surrounded by groomsmen and bridesmaids you've never seen before, Tashi and Art kiss. Husband and wife, till death or retirement do they part.
You look up from the photo to look into the woman's eyes. "Never heard of them," you shrug. "Should I have?"
"I'm telling you, dear," she swoons. "Tennis players are something else."
God forbid you show her something else these tennis players have featured in.
Your phone rings before you can let your tongue get you in trouble, and though you thank god for the interruption, you’re less enthused when you see who’s calling. Still, a way out is a way out, you’re apologising for ‘simply having to take this’ and ducking out of the café, camera bag in tow, in less than a minute.
The outside air is good for your lungs and sullen skin— you take a moment to breathe before sliding the answer button over on your phone and holding it to your ear. You don’t say a word, and instead wait for the poor excuse that could warrant calling you.
“Look, I didn’t mean what I said in the email, shit still just stings, alright? I was second favourite to Art for a long time back then.”
Patrick Zweig gets straight to the point, always has, and you aren’t sure if you like that about him. A ‘hey, how are you? I miss you,’ isn’t the worst thing to hear when you’ve just lost a job and been reminded of your college woes.
“I told you not to call me,” you say, glancing back into the café to see the couple packing up to leave. “I was with clients.”
“Right, sorry,” Patrick says, though he sounds more rushed than apologetic. “How’d that go?”
You almost laugh. “They’re laying me off in favour of Rikki Leanne.”
“Who?”
“She was Art and Tashi’s wedding photographer, they saw the photos and ‘fell in love’—absolutely had to go with her, or something.”
There’s a pause, Patrick probably hadn’t expected you to speak so lax about Art and Tashi after all this time. Though if he’s surprised, or upset, he doesn’t show it in his voice— “so you’re free for a job then?”
“What?”
“I’m wanting some photos taken, you can stay here if you want, I can pay you in dinner and good booze.”
You frown and parrot a line from an email he sent the other day. The first one had been normal, though of course laden with cocky callbacks to the days you’d photograph him in exchange for an orgasm or three, but as you talked back and forth the emails had moved from reconnecting to remembering the fallout between the four of you. “Sometimes I wonder if you did what you did because you thought taking tennis from us would level the playing field.”
Your words are cold, though they were his first— you speak verbatim from an email he sent at four in the morning, littered with typos and missing words.
“I’m an idiot, I know,” Patrick says. “I didn’t mean it. Well actually yes I did, at the time— but I’m trying to make up for it now, okay? Look, I’m sorry if I made you feel guilty for what happ—“
“I didn’t do it, Patrick. I’ve told you, I told Art, I told Tashi— it wasn’t me.” Your voice catches and you swallow. “It happened, but it wasn’t me and I won’t take the blame for it.”
“Okay, okay.” He breathes out, and his tone softens a little. “Just… tell me you’ll come and see me.”
“I can’t, Patrick, it’s been six years.”
“Yeah but—”
You shake your head and interrupt. “No, listen, I’m busy. I’ve got work, a life, I’ve changed too much for you to even think about trying to get me back in your bed.”
Patrick laughs. “I never said anything about fucking you, I think that’s more on your mind than mine… maybe you haven’t changed that much.”
A smile plays on your lips despite yourself. “Maybe not,” you admit.
There’s a rustle on the other end, and then a sigh. “Come see me,” his tone is softer this time. “Please.”
You hesitate. “I… Alright, fine, I will.”
“Cool, cool, good, I’ll text you my address,” there’s a moment of silence, long enough for the words to start to sink in and the idea to become solid. “Hey,” he adds on, “it’ll be fun.”
No ‘I missed you’, no ‘I’m sorry’, nothing. Just fun. That’s all you’ll ever know from Patrick Zweig— fun, you guess. Still, though, despite the growing pit in your chest, there’s something pulling you to oblige. A fresh start, maybe, or a glimpse back to when life was exciting.
“Alright,” you reply, falling right back into the same circuit that ate your college experience. “It’ll be fun.”
SIX YEARS EARLIER
Four prints sit side-by-side on a table in the photography lab in front of you. You like the shots, all of Art, your newest muse, on the tennis courts. You wonder if sports photography is your new niche, or you just enjoy capturing the beauty of Art Donaldson doing what he loves. Though no matter how nice the photos came out, they’re still the reason you’re missing breakfast with Art and Patrick.
You’d have liked to be stuck between them at a breakfast table.
You remain alone, however, with photographs for company and a dull ache in your thighs from Arts second and third turn at you the day before, you spent the late afternoon sleeping off your exhaustion in his arms and missed your chance at finishing your photos then. The lab is cold and you regret wearing a short skirt, the fluorescent lights hanging overhead do nothing to warm you as you pick up and examine each image carefully, checking for blemishes or smudges you might have missed before printing them out. The clock above the door reads nine twenty-four, Art's game starts at ten, so you need to hurry and finish up if you want to find Patrick and a seat before it begins.
You're just reaching for a peg, ready to pin up your first photo, when you notice a movement at the edge of your vision. At the sound of footsteps behind you, you spin around quickly— just to find yourself pinned to the steel table where your photographs sit. Two strong arms and an all-too-familiar smile keep you in place; you can't help but stare, mouth parted while those sinful eyes of his bore into yours. Patrick Zweig.
"Jesus, I didn't hear you," you breathe out, your cheeks hot. You try to move back— away from him— only to bump into the tables' edge with your lower back. The photos of Art shift as the table rattles. "Where's Art?" You glance down at the hand Patrick places on your hip, riding your shirt up enough to rub circles onto the skin of your torso.
"Do you care?" Patrick leans down, presses his lips to your ear, sending shivers across your neck and through your body. "You should," he adds huskily. "He won't forgive me."
You exhale something similar to soft laughter, unable to fight against the way he pulls your hips forward, into his. "Forgive you for what?"
"Getting you alone, you're his. He lets me play with you on his terms, right? I fucked you facing him, I came twice listening to him ruin you, then a third time to those fucking photos; lights camera action, really?”
You laugh, "he came up with that, and I'm not his anything. If he wants to own me, he can ask first. Plus, he's probably fucked you too, right?"
Patrick shakes his head, and thumbs the hem of your skirt, traipsing his fingers up your bite-and-bruise ridden legs.
"Well then he wants to," you laugh, and then near scream as suddenly, Patrick dips down and grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up onto the photography lab table. Your head nearly hits a light and the cold stainless steel jars against your bare thighs, skirt hiked up around your waist and panties promptly pushed to the side. You kick your legs in protest, but the hold Patrick has on you keeps you from putting any distance between him and you. Patrick stands between your parted thighs, your feet dangling freely off the table— one of his hands on your thigh, the other on the tabletop. He takes one of your photos between his fingers, one of Art hitting a ball, and clicks his tongue at the sight.
"I forgot you take normal photos, too. I bet that shot isn't going to sell as well as your others would." His thumb caresses your skin, stroking over the bitemarks along your inner thighs until the pressure becomes near unbearable. You share a breath, his face moving in close to yours as you rebut.
"Lucky for both of you, I take those pictures for pleasure, not business."
"You don't have any shame," he says, smirking. A finger traces over another bruise that was just visible under your skirt. "You really deserve to suffer, but you told Art yesterday that I'm not sweet."
"You aren't," you scoff, "I think you're an asshole."
The corners of his lips quirk up at that. "And yet here you are."
"I never said I didn't like it," you tease, and press your lips together when his fingers swipe through the folds of your exposed pussy; from entrance to clit and back again.
"I can be sweet," Patrick insists, dipping two fingers further into your heat and watching you take a lip between your teeth in response. "As sweet as you taste."
His words make you smile. "Patrick, you're this close to letting me fuck myself on your fingers and you haven't even kissed me yet: you're not sweet."
He looks momentarily discomfited by your honesty, then shrugs. "Okay, maybe I'm not, open your mouth."
You oblige, and Patrick pulls his fingers from between your legs. Your hips buck up at the loss of contact, which makes Patrick laugh as he takes the back of your neck in one hand and presses his two fingers, slick with your lust, against your tongue. You wrap your lips around the length of his fingers and suck, tasting yourself on him, and for a moment wondering whether you’d taste the same licked from the length of his cock instead.
Patrick slides his fingers from your mouth and uses that hand to cup the side of your face, his fingers wet against your cheek; you make a face in turn. He stops, though, and opts to hold your face for a moment. His voice is unusually soft when he speaks, softer than you’ve ever heard it.
“I don’t want you to think I’m only interested in sex with you,” he says, words a door to that soul of his you’ve never seen.
“Aren’t you?”
Patrick Zweig shakes his head, unable to find the words to convey a simple ‘no’. Instead, your question is answered with a slow and tender kiss to your lips, a sweetness to the way his mouth melts against yours. Like you’re the sun, or the water in which he strides under the sun for a drink of, or the holy ground on which he walks.
He kisses you like Art does, who had spent the day prior kissing you how Patrick normally would. They melt into each other, personas shifted in an attempt to fulfil your aches and yearnings. You wonder if they realise that two is, in fact, better than one.
“I don’t want you to be Art,” you speak against his lips. “You can play sweet all you want, Art can play rough, I like the switch, but you play better together than apart.”
Patrick bites at your bottom lip. “Are we talking about tennis?”
You laugh in response, take Patrick’s wrist and redirect it back between your heated thighs. “I’m never talking about tennis.”
It’s like his knees bend at your very words. Patrick is dipping his head down between your legs instantaneously, spurred on by the hand you snake into his curls. One of his fingers slips deep into your cunt, and you almost scream. Almost. It takes effort not to curse Patrick out for his pace when the next finger pushes into you— slowly and purposefully.
He latches hips lips around your clit in apology, though, tongue teasing the sensitive nerves as he pumps his fingers into you, a rhythm forming in tandem with the ministrations of his mouth. He’s good at it, you wonder how often he goes down on Tashi, probably not nearly enough for how reverently that girl should be worshipped by tongue and touch. And yet, you find yourself growing more aroused despite the thought of him pleasing anyone but you.
It’s then, when he’s working inside you, fingers pressing at your swollen walls, that you finally lose your composure. You grip the edge of the table, knuckles tense as your hips move faster, bucking against Patrick’s mouth, desperate for more of him. He looks up at you, pretty eyes locked onto yours as his tongue moves in circles around your clit. His long fingers curl upwards inside of you, stroking your wet walls with a practiced ease. You reach down to brush his hair away from his forehead before grabbing fistfuls of it and urging him closer— you can feel him smiling against your clit as he complies. With each stroke, with every sound his lips make, you feel more and more undone. You’re close. So close.
“God,” you breathe. “Please—”
You fall silent when a wave of intense pleasure surges throughout your entire body when Patrick quickens his pace even more. Your vision gets blurry, and soon tears spring into your eyes— they pool in your lashes, stain your cheeks as they fall— and you’re lost, consumed by him and every tormenting movement he makes. Patrick’s thrusts become harsher as you begin shaking, and you cry out, the last part of your restraint leaving you as you come against Patrick’s mouth. A shudder runs throughout your whole body when his fingers leave you and you watch him bring them to his own mouth to clean off like it’s nothing but an afterthought.
Patrick stands, his hands on either side of you now, and leans down to capture your lips in his. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, licking at your lips until you open for him, welcoming his entry and savouring the sensations running rampant through your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, you fall victim to his faux sweetness once more, until he’s pulling down his shorts and pumping his hard length with his hand. His kisses leave your mouth and travel down the expanse of your neck, biting and sucking and swirling his tongue over the marks left behind by his best friend.
“I don’t have a condom,” he breathes against your skin. His voice sounds so breathless, so wrecked, that it sends a shiver down your spine. Maybe you would have given in, let him fuck you regardless, but when your eyes open, they catch sight of the clock above the door— 9;57.
“Fuck,” you scramble to push at Patrick’s shoulder, “Arts game, it starts in three minutes.”
He groans. “Shit,” you can tell he’s debating missing it entirely, making up some stupid excuse Art won’t believe so he can fuck you here and now. You shake your head before he can vocalise said idea, and he groans again. “Okay, okay.”
He’s taking a step back, pulling his shorts up and tucking his boner into his waistband as he watches you push yourself, albeit shakily, onto your feet.
“You gonna make it?” he asks, a wicked smirk gracing his features.
“Shut up,” you flatten out your skirt and give him a stern look. “Get moving.”
He doesn’t reply, simply gives a mocking bow, and turns on his heels towards the door to the lab. You take an extra moment to wipe down the lab table you just came on, because you aren’t a heathen, and follow Patrick with weak legs.
You’re taking your seats under the bleating sun as Art steps onto the court. He scans the audience for you, and smiles widely when he lays eyes on you, sitting in the back row of seats far enough from anyone else to consider yourselves alone. You don’t have your camera with you, as far as Art can tell, but he chalks it up to you wanting to enjoy the match and shrugs, stretching a few times and testing the racket in his hand.
You sit, uncomfortably needy, on the hot plastic chair as Patrick readjusts himself endlessly besides you. It makes you smile, the constant shuffling to find a position that soothes the strain of his hard cock against his shorts, though his face is contorted and you almost feel bad. He had been sweet, after all.
Art serves, a tall ginger playing against him that you really don’t pay attention to. You’re secluded, and everyone in the crowd has eyes glued on your Art Donaldson. You watch heads turn with each hit of the ball, and as Art scores his first point, your hand reaches down to palm Patrick through the thin fabric of his shorts.
Patrick’s head snaps to yours. He’s never one to shy away from a public endeavour or two, but anyone could turn their head to find your hand slipping past his waistband and toying inside of his pants.
“The fuck are you doing?” he near hisses as you squeeze at his cock.
“Shut up,” you cross one leg over the other and settle into your seat, circling your thumb over his aching tip before stroking him down to the base. “Just watch Art’s game, be a good friend.”
Who is Patrick to argue? He has to bring a hand to his mouth, act as if he’s dutifully interested in the match at hand as he bites down on his own skin, revelling in the languid pace you stroke him at. It’s ruinous, what you’re doing to him, and the fact that with each hit of the ball Art whines in a way much akin to what he heard over the phone last night, doesn’t help much at all.
With each point Art takes, you speed up. Patrick hopes the sun is enough to justify the sweat beading at his forehead, though he’s not so concerned when the feeling of your hand, wet now with his precum, is so tight around his cock that he can’t think straight. He bucks his hips up a little, coughing to hide a strangled moan as he watches his best friend on the court.
Art plays well as always, lean and flexible and at home on the court. Patrick thinks he can see it, that look of adoration in his eyes as he plays, as he scores again— one more to win the game. You speed up again, and lean over just enough to speak lowly into his ear. You whisper obscenities only just loud enough for him to pick up on, filth spills from your lips and goes straight to his pulsing cock. The audience collectively readies themselves for celebration as Art hits the ball with such force his opponent misses it by a long shot.
Everyone cheers, Art raises his arms in celebration and revels in his win. His eyes lock back onto yours, sporting the widest grin that you can’t help but return tenfold— though his eyes drift a little to the left, and he’s met with the stomach-tightening sweet sight of Patrick Zweig cumming in his fucking pants.
404 notes · View notes