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#i'm probably still not used to the fact that it's summer
brown-little-robin · 11 months
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I think I'm going to treat myself to being off tumblr until Tuesday. a nice long stretch of four days to force my brain to calm down, and if I feel like it, maybe a longer vacation soon. I'll be back today (or maybe tomorrow) to post the next Strange Redemption chapter, and my queue will be running.
In the meantime, I'll be doing art, talking to friends, playing board games, working, cleaning, et cetera... :)
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
bye! see you later!
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trashbaget · 2 years
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#wrote a fucking poem#because a bitch is fucking feeling things#cue venting in the tags because this is where i'm feeling comfortable to do it right now#a while back i caught the love bug for a friend and tbFCKNh it was the very second time i'd ever actually fallen In Love with someone and..#the first time it didn't end well. long story short: i asked him out and he turned me down but we stayed friends and it actually made us..#grow closer regardless. a little while later i'd realized my feelings were Different and it just came out one night when we were having a..#really deep conversation. and i'm glad i told him because it helped me get over him and we got better and things weren't weird at all. we..#stayed really good fucking friends. now i didn't get to see him for a summer and i definitely don't have feelings for him anymore and i'm..#sincerely happy for him and his now partner. i consider him (and always have) my best friend. (among others but he's definitely Up There..#like no. 2 probably) but way too soon after Talking was summer and we were both farthest from everybody and are both the kind of ppl who..#pretty much don't text anyone except like 2 ppl and we are not one of each's 2. today i got to see him and a bunch of our friends for the..#first time since fucking april and god have i missed them all. but seeing him again kinda fucked me up a second. threw me for a massive loop#i got Weird (neg) and i was NERVOUS as HELL at the start and for a few minutes i couldn't figure out what it even WAS because i hadn't felt.#that way in a long time. and i am not about to catch those feelings for him again because No. i chilled out after like 3 minutes bc i got..#reacclimated to being around ppl My Damn Age again and things weren't Weird (neg) anymore. we talked we joked we sincerely said our I Miss..#Yous and we hung out. with everyone and alone for a bit because ppl had gone out and come back and it was FINE it was NORMAL () and we..#were GOOD. we ARE good. and i don't love him in that way anymore. i love him as a friend. and that love is definitely more intense than with#other friends because we have a deeper bond and yes because i Loved him. but the fact is i don't and it's ANNOYING to react like i still do.#and getting nervous like i still do. and i kept worrying that something i'd do might make it seem like i do and i don't and just UGH having.#feelings is annoying. i've never been able to stay friends with someone after having feelings for them at all let alone INTENSE IN LOVE FEEL#INGS!! like wtf!!! and this is sincerely one of the best friendships i've ever had and i don't want to and Won't. lose him especially for..#this but god DAMN am i not having it right now. and my head's been spinning like a fucking tornado in the 5min ride home and i accidentally.#wrote it out in a poem because the words wouldn't go anywhere when i just tried to brain dump about it because Of Course They Did. because i#can't think about this man in anyway except poetically and i can't write a poem unless it's about love in some degree and just UGH love is#and i'm gonna leave it there because i'm running risk of repeatin myself.#if you read all this i positively adore you and also you need to touch some grass bc reading the vents of internet dwellers is for suckers#i am just kidding i really do sincerely appreciate you and love you very very much thank you for caring#please ignore the following organizational tags:#writing#poetry
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likeabxrdinflight · 1 year
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I have a friend who's still highly cautious around covid because she's high risk but she keeps posting all these screenshots of tweets about covid studies on her instagram in an attempt to convince people that covid is still very dangerous
and it's not that covid isn't still potentially dangerous, but one quick google search has allowed me to find every study that she has referenced, and without fail, every single one of them has been working with pre-vaccine, pre-omicron data. the most recent one she's posting about is about cardiac conditions post covid, and wouldn't you know, the entire sample was taken from people who caught covid between march 2020 and january 2021.
this was pre-vaccine, pre-omicron, hell, it was pre-delta variant (remember that one). this was the wild type covid, which our bodies were least immune to. it was the type that was most known to be causing cardiac symptoms and blood clots. besides delta, it was the most deadly. and no one was vaccinated.
so yes, in that group of people, who were unfortunate enough to catch covid during that period, the results of this study are likely very valid- they are at increased risk of heart disease. and that should be talked about and studied more and if those people end up with cardiac symptoms they need to be receiving proper care.
but we should not be assuming, without further study, that these risks are still the same for those who've been vaccinated, or who only caught covid after the omicron variant became dominant (the omicron lineages have been pretty different from the wild type and other pre-omicron variants, so it's worth noting that). like this is a study that must be replicated with a post-vaccine, post-omicron sample before you will even remotely convince me that those cardiac risks are the same as they were before.
and it is driving me crazy that my friend, who is also fucking trained in how to read science, is posting this shit seemingly without looking at the actual papers or thinking about the context at all. like it is driving me absolutely bananas. these posts aren't even like, direct quotes from the papers, they're screenshots of randos on twitter talking about these papers, as if twitter rando knows jack shit about what they're talking about. like it's all well and good to still care about covid but could you at least do it with less of the fear mongering?
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swordsonnet · 1 year
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unstoppable force (my desire to write) meets immovable object (my chronic illness)
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hedgehog-moss · 9 months
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Here are 7 little facts about my donkey and how his summer is going :)
1. I received an anon the other day asking if Pirou was still a working donkey who carries my firewood for me, and the answer is yes. I've been cutting some branches from the big cherry tree that fell down the other day, and Pirlouit has been valiantly carrying them to the woodshed—fun fact, for this activity he likes to wear his ears like this:
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Probably because this T position is reminiscent of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, which is how Pirlouit perceives himself as he carries heavy logs for me. He's willing, but his martyrdom should be acknowledged.
Here's Poldine acknowledging it with a nose kiss, because Poldine.
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I stopped so they could have their little chat.
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2. Pirou has been chatting with a lot of new friends lately—we met these horses on a walk and he was so happy to stop and touch noses with them while making equid noises. Llamas are good with the nose-touching but their llama noises are just less interesting to Pirlouit. He had such interested ears here! "Finally a serious grown-up conversation"
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We also met this goose during the same walk and Pirlouit was a lot less eager to go say hi to her. The goose was yelling threats at us and we prudently stayed away, and Pirou was clearly thinking "this bird is doing a better job at protecting her home from intruders than Pandolf ever could" (it's true, Pan assumes intruders are friends until proven otherwise)
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3. You'll notice that there are houses in this pic! Our walks got longer and longer until one day we went all the way to the village (it took 1 hour 20min at Pirlouit's leisurely pace). I was so proud of him. I've been trying to convince my friends to go to the village on donkeyback (this requires two people, because you can ride Pirlouit but you can't tell him where to go unless there's someone holding his rope and leading the way)—my friends were reluctant because they still sort of perceive Pirou as the feral animal terrified of everything that he was when I got him. They know he's made a lot of progress but going to town on donkeyback still seemed foolhardy.
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So we've been riding Pirlouit in the woods, in familiar environments, and we also went to town with him but without riding him. He was amazingly calm and brave! There's a river that cuts the village in two and the first time we went, we stopped before the bridge, since it's pretty narrow and cars would have to drive very close to Pirlouit, we didn't want to risk it. We just went to say hi to the librarian who lives on the right side of the river, but since Pirlouit was very serene, we did cross the bridge the second time.
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He did not care at all about cars driving very close to him (he had one familiar human on either side of him and the drivers were very considerate and went slowly), which emboldened us to stop for a drink on the terrace of the coffeeshop on main street (< also a narrow street with cars driving by quite close to Pirlouit). There was just no problem at all, Pirou let total strangers rub his forehead and was more interested in iced tea than main street traffic.
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It was a hot day and we gave him all the ice cubes from our drinks and he chewed them enthusiastically.
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4. We made a stop at the pharmacy on our way home because we had another 1 hour 20min walk ahead and I had a blister, and the pharmacist noticed my donkey parked outside his shop and in a determined tone he said, "I want to try something." He took one of the donkey milk soaps from the overpriced-Provence-soaps-for-tourists display and opened the door and offered it for Pirlouit to sniff.
... I'm not sure what he was expecting—for my donkey to go "ohhh this smells like Mother's milk and aloe vera 🥺"—but unfortunately nothing happened.
(4. bis—Sorry, this 4th fact was anticlimactic.)
5. Pirlouit is now the proud owner of a surcingle. Not for equestrian vaulting and not for his log-carrying job because I don't know if it would be solid enough for the weight of a bag full of logs, but I'd like to tie bags or baskets to it to take Pirlouit grocery shopping, now that I know he's okay with going to town :) He even seems to enjoy the adventure, and the attention he gets from children.
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And actually I shouldn't write off equestrian vaulting because Pirou is also remarkably chill with weird things happening on his back. I used to be very careful to climb on his back in a quick & fluid way so he wouldn't spook (because he used to! a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil used to spook him!) but now that my friends are riding him I can confirm we've reached a point where you can climb on Pirlouit's back in any way you want and he'll just be like "...... sure"
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6. I almost forgot to mention that Pirou turned 15 last month, according to his ID papers :) Donkeys have a longer life expectancy than horses, they can live 30-40 years on average so he's still a young lad really. Happy 15th birthday Pirlouit :)
7. I wanted to conclude with a nice aesthetic pic of Pirou's shadow on the road during all those walks, like I did with Poldine, but unfortunately donkey shadows do not have the chic je-ne-sais-quoi of llama shadows. Pirlouit looks like a hammerhead shark wearing a tiny fez and that's not his fault.
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sanguineterrain · 9 months
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redamancy | steve harrington
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Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)
A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.
divider by firefly-graphics
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i. the promise 
"Would you ever get married?" 
You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it. 
You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety! 
"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."
You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same. 
"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married." 
You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.
"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin. 
"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago." 
You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."
"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."
"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve." 
"I guess."
You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten. 
"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask. 
Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."
"Dangerous."
He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."
"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."
Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious. 
"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."
Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer." 
"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"
"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."
You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."
Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me." 
"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?" 
"Not even to her."
You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.
"I'd marry you," you say. 
Steve's eyebrows shoot up. 
"What?"
"Like, if you were in a pinch."
He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. 
"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."
"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."
"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."
"I hope she kept the receipt."
Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth. 
"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"
"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."
"I scoop ice cream for a living."
You level him with a look. 
"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."
His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why. 
"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says. 
Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with. 
"Let's make a pact," you say softly. 
He meets your eye. "A pact?"
"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."
"Well, I don't want a pity marriage." 
You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."
"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks. 
"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say. 
"I can't wait till I'm thirty." 
"Or you'll turn into an old maid?" 
"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat. 
You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"
Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!
Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do. 
"Do you mean it?" he asks. 
"Of course I do."
"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"
"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."
"You'll marry me?"
"I will."
"Swear on it."
You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.
You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?
"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."
"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."
"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."
"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"
"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."
Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart. 
"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night." 
Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve. 
"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"
"Always."
Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you. 
"'Kay. See you."
You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb. 
Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away. 
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ii. the wound 
The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow. 
Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though. 
You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep. 
Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far. 
She looks away, and your not-smile falls. 
"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly. 
The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die. 
Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that. 
"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears. 
"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—" 
The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her. 
"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand. 
"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long." 
They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening. 
So he did. And now you're here. 
You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better. 
"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead. 
"Come sit," you say. 
"I need to see him," he tells you. 
"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"
"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."
You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita. 
Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait. 
At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all. 
"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."
Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels. 
A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.
"Go on."
Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway. 
"Go see him."
You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.
“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.
“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly. 
Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.
"Yes, he does." 
She holds out her hand. 
You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.
“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there." 
God, are you really that obvious? 
You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.
Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter. 
Steve’s eyes lock with yours. 
“Hey,” is all you say.
“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats. 
“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”
You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you? 
You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side. 
The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.
You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.
“Robin called me,” you say.
Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Your breath is punched out of you. 
“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”
His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.
You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour. 
“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”
You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.
“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared." 
He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you." 
You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.
They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him. 
But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.
You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.
His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.
"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”
"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't." 
You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his. 
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iii. the brand
“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.
“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.
“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.
It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.
“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks. 
“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.” 
“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”
Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve. 
“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.
“Me?!”
“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”
“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”
“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”
“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.
As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.
“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.”
“Are you okay?”
He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.
“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”
“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.
“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”
He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair. 
"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."
"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly. 
"Pot, kettle."
"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."
"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks. 
"If you get us there in one piece, yes."
Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers. 
"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"
"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say. 
Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve. 
"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."
"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says. 
You scoff. "More like the other way around." 
He pouts. "Hey."
"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van. 
"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks. 
You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"
"No!" all three say.
"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters. 
Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops. 
"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"
"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"
"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat. 
You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve. 
"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."
Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment." 
"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded. 
"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests. 
"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."
"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."
You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years. 
But this? This is way, way beyond that. 
"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"
You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair. 
"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."
Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."
"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."
Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"
You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always. 
"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"
You wince at the wording. 
"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."
You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."
Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve. 
"Right, so I'll just…"
You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest. 
"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."
"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly. 
Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time. 
"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke. 
Steve smiles gently. "Hey."
His tone is fond. You feel sick. 
"Everybody good?" Eddie asks. 
He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection. 
"You two look cozy."
"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already." 
Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.
It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again. 
You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation. 
“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”
Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.
“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.
He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.
“Really, Munson?”
“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”
“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.
Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs. 
God, you’re never living this down. 
“Y’okay?” 
Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.
“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”
“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”
Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip. 
Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin. 
The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.
Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.
Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.
Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight. 
He looks like he's yours.
"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation. 
He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question. 
"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you." 
He relaxes. 
"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."
"Uh-huh." 
You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.
The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not. 
Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there. 
Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks. 
"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."
You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face. 
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iv. the secret
It's raining. You're in Steve's bed. 
Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent. 
You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you. 
"Do you think he'll come back?" 
You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though. 
Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight. 
Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married. 
You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars. 
"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness. 
You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light. 
"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."
He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you. 
God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you? 
"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper. 
Steve squeezes your hand harder. 
"No one's gonna die."
You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles. 
"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" 
"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again. 
"You can stay here as long as you want," he says. 
"I can go back to my room."
Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.
"Don't," he says. 
"Okay."
You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive. 
The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him. 
His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair. 
It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.
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+ and, finally, the first.
"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for. 
"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."
He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away. 
"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"
You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.
"What?" Steve asks, looking at you. 
"You're funny, that's what."
"I am?"
"You sound like somebody's grandpa."
"I do not!"
"Do too," you say sweetly. 
"Do not."
"Do too infinity."
Steve rolls his eyes. 
"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."
"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man." 
"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart. 
You smile. Steve shakes his head. 
"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."
"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart. 
"And you don't push the cart."
You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven." 
"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?" 
"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle. 
You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.
“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”
“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”
You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you. 
“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”
You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.
“What?” you ask.
Steve shakes his head.
“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”
“Steve, seriously. What is it?”
He shakes his head again. 
“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”
He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.
The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established. 
When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.
“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.
You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him. 
Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot. 
“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”
“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”
You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity. 
“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.
“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.
“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back. 
Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat. 
“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”
You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.
“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”
You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.
“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”
You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty. 
“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”
You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”
You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses. 
Now you know: tenderly. 
He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise. 
You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you. 
“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.
“Huh?”
“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”
You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.
“What?” he asks.
“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say. 
Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times. 
You hope you’ll lose track at some point.
2K notes · View notes
shogunish · 10 months
Text
𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆.
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pairing. pervy roommate! gojo x f! reader
genre. (implied) friends to lovers, smut
warnings. panty sniffing, gojo jacks off with reader's panties, hair-pulling, pet names (doll, love), loss of virginity, rough sex, unprotected sex, big dick gojo, choking, gojo and reader are in their late teens ok (18 - 19), fingering
words. 6k
summary. satoru always hated laundry day, but now he's quite fond of it. after all, he gets to see all your cute panties and steal a pair for his personal use.
note. i want to use his cum as a face mask and this is the result 👩🏻‍🦯
comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3
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"Satoru, you're–"
"Handsome, intelligent, charming and funny." A smirk graces Satoru's features and he probably would've flipped his hair if it was any longer. He sends you a cheeky wink as he leans against the kitchen counter, as full of himself as ever as he strikes a pose that would make any girl swoon for him. "Yeah, I know."
Well, any girl but you.
Sometimes, you wonder why you agreed to be Satoru's roommate. Maybe it was the fact that Jujutsu dorms cost so much that you couldn't handle the finances on your own and like the snake in Adam and Eve's garden, Satoru seduced you into this hilarious arrangement.
"I've got the money," he said.
"It'll be fun," he said.
A sigh slips your lips and if it weren't for the laundry basket in your hands, you would've put your palm to your head. This man is the sole cause of all your headaches. "You're doing the laundry today."
And with an echoing smack, you drop the laundry basket in front of his feet with your infamous are-you-kidding-me look.
"Again?!" Satoru pouts as he begrudgingly picks up the basket of dirty laundry and glares at the clothes like they're his sworn enemy, his arch nemesis. "I did them like two weeks ago, right? This counts as roommate abuse, I'm certain!" Is that a whine you hear in his voice?
Crossing your arms over one another, you pop your hip to the side and raise a fine eyebrow at your stupidly handsome roommate. "And I did them last week. It's your turn now, Satoru," your voice is stern as you bend over slightly in an accusing way. "While I signed up to deal with your chaotic ass, you signed up to do the laundry every two weeks!"
The daggers your eyes throw at Satoru make him think twice about dishing out another smart comment, but he can't help it. He thinks you're cute when you glare at him like this, hands on your hips and the hint of your cleavage blessing his Six Eyes. It's the only reason why he winds you up like this.
"Whoa there! If you keep glowering like this, you'll get wrinkles!," Satoru snickers as he dashes into the bathroom before you could cuss him out or toss another piece of laundry at his head. For some reason, you had once managed to toss a pair of his dirty boxers at his head from around the damn corner.
Satoru swears up and down that you put cursed energy into your throw, but you deny all accusations like you're a saint.
"No idea what you're talking about," you smiled.
"Maybe it got possessed by the laundry curse," you said.
He still calls bullshit on your claims.
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Satoru finds himself sitting on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It's a little small with the laundry basket by his side, but he'll survive..right?
A bored look settles down on his face as he glances at the laundry, sighs in agony and grabs two articles of clothing, one being white, the other being a bright baby blue. In the back of his head, he can hear you nagging him about something..something seemingly important.
What was it again..?
Ah, right.
"Remember to separate the whites from the colored ones," Satoru mocks you in a high-pitched voice as he disregards your advice with purpose and stuffs your baby blue summer dress into the washing machine along with his snow white dress shirt.
Honestly, what could go wrong? The laundry coming out fresh and clean? Boohoo, what a bummer. It'd be a shame if the two of you had good-smelling clothing. How scary.
Pettily, Satoru tosses the laundry into the washing machine piece after piece. As he reaches the bottom of the laundry basket, interest gleams in his eyes as he spots the couple of bras and panties you hid underneath all the clothing and his underwear (which he always boldly and responsibly puts in the laundry!).
After several months of living together, Satoru has seen your underwear more times than he can count and he wonders why you're still so embarrassed about it. He's seen all your granny panties.
A pair of simple, dark purple panties catch his attention. Nimble fingers are quick to pick them up and Satoru regards them with..intrigue. They're plain and it's obvious you haven't gotten laid yet, but there's a cute little bow at the front. These must be new, he concludes.
Your nude feet are still parading around the kitchen as you diligently clean the space just like the two of you agreed on and it'd take a while for you to finish your part of the deal. Nevertheless, Satoru quietly shuts the door just in case..
"These are cute..," he muses to himself and stretches the fabric with his two index fingers. Lips pursed in thought, brilliant blue eyes scrutinize the panties with a certain glint like he's assessing, judging them over the rim of his pitch black sunglasses.
This is a good pair of panties, but nowhere as cute as the ones with the floral patterns; those are Satoru's personal favorites that are still hidden in his nightstand's drawer. He swears he's no pervert, but he can't help himself!
You're nothing but sweet to Satoru, always offering him the last slice of pizza and taking care of him when he's sick. A cute red hue dusts your cheeks whenever he teases you and oh, the way you stumble over your words when he compliments you! You get so awkward, it's cute.
What does Shoko call you? Ah right, a girlfailure.
Luckily for you, Satoru is very much into the girlfailure he shares the dorm with, although he hides it well behind an exterior of teasing, banter and his natural charm.
Once Satoru is done inspecting your panties, he brings the fabric to his nose and inhales your scent, feeling a little ball of heat form in the pit of his stomach. He gulps down the lump in his throat. There's no scent sweeter than that of your pussy when you got your own panties wet. It's obvious on that little wet patch darkening the fabric a tad bit.
Oh, how adorable you have to be when your little cunt gets excited, soaks your panties and you can't do anything about it.
"Hmm..," Satoru hums in thought before stuffing that certain pair of panties into his pockets. "I'll keep these for research purposes."
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It's late at night when Satoru tosses and turns in his bed. It's not the summer heat that makes it hard to fall asleep, but the thought of you. The way you'd show off your legs in those little shorts, your cleavage blessing his glimmering eyes from underneath the top and the way you are..you around him.
All of it gets to him in ways that he could never say out loud or else you'd kick him out in an instant.
"This sucks," Satoru groans and tosses an arm over his eyes, rolling around in self-pity. Who would've guessed that he'd fall for the cute new classmate who has as much of an attitude as he does? Maybe if you weren't like this, he wouldn't be lying on his back, fighting back a raging boner as he thinks about your sweet smile.
Satoru tries ignoring it. He thinks of Yaga's cursed corpses, Shoko calling him a loser for staring at you like a love-struck puppy and the way you felt in his arms when he had to save you from a curse.
He sighs in agony. Enough is enough!
Satoru hooks his fingers into the elastics of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. A wet smack bounces off the walls as his cock springs free and slaps against his abdomen, twitching and throbbing. Satoru groans.
The tip is flushed a pretty shade of red and pre-cum oozes from the slit, pooling on his heated skin. His cock is curved upwards and certainly doesn't lack in thickness or length. A pretty vein runs across the sensitive skin, starting from the base and going all the way up to the flushed tip.
Shit..," Satoru cusses softly and briefly leans his head back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just thinking about you wearing those cute panties, pushing them to the side and sheathing his cock in your tight hole is enough to get him this hard, to get him this eager to fuck you.
But he can't.
You'd likely slap the living daylights out of him.
Satoru wraps your used panties around his hand like he's done many, many times before before he fists his cock. One drag up and another one going down. The soft fabric of your panties rub him just the right way, drawing a deep groan from the depth of his chest.
"Fuck, [Name]..," he breathes out and gradually begins rubbing his cock at a steady pace. "You'll be the death of me.."
Satoru can no longer help himself. His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, thinking of your cute smile. The way you call out his name, come crawling to him when you need comfort and not to mention you accidentally flashed him your panties when you were up against a curse.
But that's not all. He can only imagine sinking himself into your cunt, stretching you out and making you cry as he fucks you into the mattress. Certainly, he'd leave your greedy pussy leaking of his cum and wanting more until he'd overstimulate himself.
Satoru moves his fist faster and tightens his grip around his cock. Pre-cum stains the dark fabric of your panties that slide along his length so effortlessly, like you've chosen that specific pair just for him to use.
"Crap, just a bit more..," he mumbles, voice thick with a mix of longing and lust alike.
One tight drag upwards, he uses his thumb to massage the swollen head of his cock, squeezing some more pre-cum out. The white essence stains his fist, your used panties and trickles down the length of his cock until the drops pool at his heavy balls.
Would you let him use your hand like that?
Scratch that, why would he cum over your delicate hand when he could fuck your mouth, have tears streaming down your cheeks and cum down your little throat?
Yeah, that seems much better.
"Fuck, yeah.. Just like that.." Satoru's abs twitch in anticipation and his cock twitches in his hands as he gradually speeds up. The scent of your panties invades his nose, making him delirious and clouding his mind. All he can think about is cumming in your pretty panties.
His hips buck up into his fists and he quickly wraps the crotch of your panties around the tip. He's so close he can taste it. "Ah.. Ngh.. Fuck.. Yes, yes, yes!"
The movement of Satoru's fist is messy, almost needy as he finally cums with your name on his tongue. "Ah fuuck, [Name].."
Pearly white cum stains the fabric of your panties and soaks them as Satoru rubs himself through his orgasm, milking himself of every last drop. Groans and moans generously spill from his lips as he thinks of you, your perfect lips wrapped around his tip and swallowing his cum like a good girl.
Sweat trickles down his temple as he comes down from his high, soft huffs escaping his lips. Pulling the panties away from the head of his cock, Satoru stares at the pool of cum like he's entranced.
He wonders if you'd wear those with his cum on them, his seed sticking to your pretty pussy all damn day.
"Shit.." Satoru wants to discard the panties, let them join the laundry basket so you wouldn't notice but when his brilliant blue eyes flutter open, they suddenly meet your gaze.
Your eyes are wide, lips parted and your tongue slides out to wet them. A glimmer of shock swims in your eyes and a hue of red dusts the apples of your cheeks.
All you wanted was to seek out his company since you had trouble sleeping, but when you opened the door just a tiny bit, you suddenly watch Satoru shamelessly jacking himself off with your newest pair of panties. As embarrassed as you are, you cannot deny the throb between your legs or the wetness pooling there.
He looked..pretty when he came.
Satoru groans. "Instead of watching, you could help a guy out, you know?"
"Excuse me..?" Your ears must be deceiving you just like your eyes. Certainly, this has to be a very realistic dream in which you catch Satoru jacking off, but you'd wake up soon, right? You'd wake up and keep this dream to yourself to save yourself from Satoru's onslaught of teasing words.
Clicking his tongue, Satoru sits up on his bed and pets the spot beside him. "You can't sleep, right? C'mere, I'll help you out."
Yes, this definitely has to be a fever dream of yours.
Against your better judgment, you sit down right next to your roommate who still has your panties - which are stained with his cum - in his fist. The mattress dips with your weight and you shyly fold your hands in your lap. You can't bring yourself to look Satoru in the eyes. Not when his cock is out in the open and standing at attention again.
"Look at me," Satoru demands and for a brief second, you do look at him only to bashfully avoid your gaze again. He thinks nothing of it. Grabbing your chin, he makes you look at him and your lips part in shock once more. "What's wrong, hm? You're usually not so..shy," he teases in low, raspy tones.
In the dim light of the little lamp on his nightstand, being dipped in soft orange hues, your eyes glimmer. Words don't come to you easily, your throat feels tight. How the hell are you supposed to react?
"This is..weird," you manage to squeak out and squeeze your eyes shut for a moment.
Satoru looks at you and then down at himself. He must admit that it is quite the entertaining situation with his dick whipped out, but with the way you're not pushing him away, he knows he's got you on the hook. All you need is a little bit of..coaxing.
"It's only weird if you want it to be." Satoru leans in until his lips are on your ear, whispering right into it. His hot breath sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and his lips press a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear. The kissing sound is soft, yet so wet.
"Satoru, you're–"
"Shh, just relax..," he whispers into your ear. Cupping your jaw lovingly, slow kisses travel from your ear to your cheek and end up on your lips. His kiss is firm, slow, yet there's a certain amount of desire laced into it like he wants you to drown in the pleasure along with him.
You hold Satoru's gaze through half-lidded eyes as your lips move in perfect sync; the result of having worked together for several years now. A firework of butterflies goes off within your tummy, sparking a fire and setting the blood within your veins ablaze. You can't fight it anymore.
Not when he kisses you like he loves you.
When Satoru sneaks his tongue past your lips and draws a soft moan from you, he smiles into the kiss. He finally has you where he's been wanting you for so long. You melt into his strong arms and paw at his chest like you want something more from him, but all he does is chuckle at your silent plea.
Breaking the kiss, a thin string of saliva connects your lips to his and your breath comes out in short huffs. Satoru smiles as he sees the hazy look on your face. "That's a good girl," he praises. "In the end, you're just my girl, aren't you?" He's oh-so-gentle when he strokes your cheeks and you swear..you're falling for him. Hard.
You nod your head. "Yes. I'm..your girl."
"Come here." Satoru cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss, this time sneaking his tongue past your lips. He draws a surprised gasp from your lips, but he pays it little to no mind as you melt into the kiss. Freely, he explores your mouth and shoves his tongue in just a bit deeper.
Your fingers bury themselves in his hair as you let your back down onto the mattress, pulling Satoru down with you. He gets comfortable between your legs and uses one hand to caress the skin of your upper thigh. Oh, you're so soft compared to his calloused hands.
He trails kisses from your jaw down to your neck where he playfully nibbles at the sensitive skin. Frisky lips suckle your skin between his teeth, sucking pretty hues of purple and blue into your skin. Your hands grasp his tee, a pleasured hiss slips your lips. "S-Satoru.."
Satoru smiles. You sound so cute.
But he doesn't stop there. No. Calloused hands grip your waist and Satoru trails his kisses and bites lower towards your collarbone and furrows his brows when he comes into contact with the sorry excuse of a top you're wearing. It irritates him, but he knows just the way to solve it.
"Off with it." With one swift motion, he pulls your top up and off, tossing it into some corner of his room. Sitting up on his knees, brilliant blue eyes drink your body in.
Those rosy cheeks and shimmering eyes, the curve of your collarbone and your perky little tits begging for his attention. Your waist feels just right in his large hands.
Satoru can't help but smirk. "You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?," he muses more to himself than you and before you can say anything, he dips his head low and greedily. sucks your nipple into his mouth.
Arching your back off the mattress, you moan his name in broken syllables. White strands of hair tickle your skin, but that's not even the most distracting thing. It's the way he grabs your tits, gropes them and swirls his tongue around your nipples.
"A-ah, Satoru!" Your hands fly into his hair, tugging at the roots, but Satoru pays you no mind. In fact, he groans in appreciation. "Slow down!," you beg but he skillfully ignores your pleas like always.
"Are they sensitive?" Satoru pulls away from your nipple with a wet pop and smirks as it glistens in his saliva. "They look sensitive." Grabbing a new handful of your tits, he squeezes them harder until you whine, kiss-swollen lips parted and all. You curl your toes and dumbly nod your head. "Of course they are.."
Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, Satoru leans in until his lips brush against the conch of your ear. He gives it a slow, tantalizing lick. "You're so responsive and sensitive. I can't wait to hear you when I sink my cock into you," he whispers into your ear, voice rough and thick with primal lust.
"Then do it," you whine and buck your hips up into his. Your clothed pussy grinds into his cock in delicious ways. You can feel his size through the material and briefly wonder how he's supposed to fit. "Just fuck me already, Toru.."
Your begging catches Satoru off-guard. He blinks at you once, twice before his lips crack into a mischievous smile. "My, my, you're so impatient and demanding for a virgin." It feels like he's mocking you as he's pulling his tee off, revealing his toned abs to your greedy little hands. "I've gotta prep you a bit, doll. Or else you'll whine about how it's too big."
With blazing, fond eyes, Satoru watches you as your hands appreciatively wander from his toned stomach all the way up to his muscled chest. Your gentle touch is enough to leave a burning path behind that makes his muscles twitch underneath the tips of your fingers.
"I would never..," you mumble absent-mindedly, soft palms stroking his flexing biceps all the way down to his forearms. You've seen Satoru shirtless countless times and yet, you never quite realized just how..built he really is. It's about damn time you appreciate him, right?
"Oh baby.. Yes, you would.." Satoru grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding it to the elastic of his shorts and boxers, encouraging you to pull them off completely.
You take a steady breath through your nose and hold his gaze while pulling off the rest of his clothes, tossing them away like he did earlier. For a moment, you don't dare to look any lower than his mesmerizing eyes. It felt..indecent, but isn't that the fun part?
"There we go," Satoru snickers once the remaining clothes are off your body and on his bedroom floor. He's shameless as he grabs your knees and forces your legs open to stare at your leaking cunt. The lips are glossy and sticky with arousal. If he looks closely, he can see your tight walls fluttering around nothing. "Fuck..gonna loosen you up a bit first, okay? It'll feel good, trust me."
"Y-yes.." You nod your head, voice barely above a whisper.
Satoru kneels in-between your legs and uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips open. Long fingers massage your messy lips to get you used to the feeling, steadily rubbing them up and down before his fingers go to brush your clit.
"Ah!" You curl in on yourself, your thighs want to squeeze shut but are stopped by Satoru's slim waist. "Satoru, that's–!"
"Good, isn't it?" He finishes your sentence with a smug expression on his face and cocks his head to the side as he watches you squirm. His thumb teases your clit in slow circles, playfully flicking the nub a few times until you're moaning his name. Oh, Satoru's having way too much fun touching you like this.
"Yes, yes! O-oh!" Your eyes go wide as Satoru lathers his fingers in your essence and glides his middle finger down to your entrance, slowly sliding it into your tight cunt. "It feels..funny.."
Satoru laughs. It's loud and melodious and makes you blush deeply. "Don't worry. You'll feel good in a moment. Just relax and enjoy it, doll."
Gently, Satoru curves his finger upwards and thrusts it in and out of your cunt. The initial uncertainness on your face morphs into pleasure and your head drops back into the pillows. Soft moans and sighs spill from your lips, your legs fall open. Pleasure begins to cloud your mind.
"Good girl," he praises you and lowers himself on top of you to press a kiss to your cheek. "All you have to do is take my fingers one by..," Satoru trails off and eases his ring finger into your cunt, gently rubbing that sweet spot within you. "..one."
"Ngh..ah..oh god.." You dig your fingers into the sheets below and arch your back, pressing your tits flush against his hard chest. With twitching thighs, you grind your hips into Satoru's skilled fingers and moan your praises right into his ear. "More.. Need more.."
"You're still a bit too tight for my cock, love," Satoru chuckles as he picks up the pace, fingerling your little pussy in scissoring motions. "I don't wanna see you cry about it..yet."
Each time he drills his fingers into you, his skin smacks against yours, making your hole squelch embarrassingly loud. Moans and whimpers spill from your lips as Satoru effortlessly pokes that sweet spot that you could never reach. Excitedly, your walls flutter around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and welcoming his index finger.
The stretch burns in delicious ways as he spreads his fingers a bit, making sure to spread you a bit before he'd fuck you.
"There we go," Satoru murmurs once you can take all three of his fingers and your juices drip onto the sheets. The smile gracing his lips almost seems to be one of pride. "Think you can take me yet, doll?"
Hastily, you nod your head. "Yes, please! I want you so bad, Toru.."
Satisfied with your answer, Satoru slowly pulls his fingers from your pussy, a thin string of arousal following the tips of his fingers. Your juices are webbed between his fingers and he can't help but admire it for a moment before licking his fingers clean.
"Mhh..I can't wait to put my mouth on you next time," Satoru muses as your taste clouds his taste buds. But where's the fun when he's the only one tasting your juices? With a smirk, he pries your lips open and slides his fingers into your mouth. "Go on. Taste yourself."
A soft expression falls over your face as you wrap your tongue around Satoru's fingers and suck on them. The taste of your cunt has you flushing from your chest up. This is filthy, something you've never even thought of doing, but with Satoru..you'd nearly do everything he demands of you. And so you eagerly suck his fingers clean with a little moan.
Once he's certain you've done your job right, Satoru pulls his fingers out of your mouth and absent-mindedly wipes them dry on the sheets. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls your body flush to his and pushes you into the mattress with his weight. His breath fans across your cheeks.
"This might sting a bit, doll. But you'll get used to it, yeah?," he assures you. Although he appears so composed and level-headed, one glance towards his cock is enough to let you know that he's just as impatient as you are.
Your eyes fall back to his and you wrap your arms around his neck. "It's okay..I can take it."
Satoru smiles and locks your lips with his as he swiftly thrusts his hips against yours, sheathing his cock within your tight walls. It's a messy kiss; you whine into his mouth as he stretches your cunt out and slowly goes deeper, deeper, deeper. Your nails are buried in his scalp, pulling at his hair and your breath comes out in pathetic huffs.
Once he's balls deep in your pussy, Satoru breaks the excuse of a kiss and rests his forehead on your own, composing himself. A steady huff slips his lips as he tries his best to keep still. "Fuck.. I loosened you up and you're still so fucking tight," he groans.
Satoru's words send a shiver down your spine and your walls seem to suck him in a bit deeper. "Shit.. You're b-big..," you say, voice a bit high-pitched but sugary sweet.
He laughs, gently. That's the sort of ego boost someone like Gojo Satoru definitely doesn't need. "I told you it'd be a tight fit."
Large palms caress your thighs and hips while he's peppering kisses up and down your neck. "Tell me when I can move, doll.."
For a moment, you bask in the attention Satoru so generously provides you with. Little kisses, gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. The pain of the stretch slowly ebbs away and you nod your head. "Move, Toru..," you mumble with a desperate edge. "Please move.."
You don't have to tell him twice. Satoru pulls his hips back until only the tip remains and slowly thrusts back into your cunt with a deep grunt. Dull fingernails bury themselves into the skin of your hips as he sets a slow pace and draws moan after sweet moan from your lips.
Your toes curl. Satoru's cock presses into all the right spots that you could never reach on your own. He wipes all worries and every possible thought from your mind. You throw your head back into the pillows and arch your back, tits bouncing with each thrust he delivers to your freshly popped cunt. "Ah..mh..fuck yes.."
Your moans increase in volume and pitch; he picks up the pace and buries his face in the crook of your neck where he bites into the skin to muffle his own noises, claiming you as his. "Crap..so tight..so wet.." A few curses fall from Satoru's lips.
Pushing you further into the mattress, Satoru grabs your wrists and pins them up above your head; you don't even seem to notice. He finishes each thrust with a roll of his hips and groans whenever your gummy walls flutter around him, needing him to stay right where he is.
Suddenly, your eyes go wide and a little scream is torn from your throat. "Ah! Toru! Right there!"
"Right here?," Satoru rolls his hips into yours again, placing his large palm on your lower abdomen, only to draw the very same reaction from you. You rapidly nod your head, lip bitten between your teeth. He smirks. "So that's the spot, huh.."
Satoru interlaces your fingers together and begins abusing that spot for good measure. His cock drills into your poor pussy over and over again as you moan and squirm underneath him. Around his waist, your thighs shake. Your juices drip down your ass and his balls, making each smack just a tad bit louder, filthier. His groans mix with your moans and little babbles.
The way you look at him through half-lidded eyes, taking his pounding like you're made for him specifically and offering your body for his pleasure. It's all too much for Satoru.
"Shit..can't make love to you when you're looking at me like this." Letting go of your hands, Satoru swipes his sweaty strands of hair back and briefly pulls out of you. Calloused palms grip your waist and easily flip you flat on your stomach.
A squeak of surprise slips your lips as your face is suddenly in the pillows and the way you look at him over your shoulder is probably awkward, too. "Toru..?," you ask through heavy pants.
Hands still on your waist, Satoru uses his strength to push you into the mattress, to keep you from squirming. "Hold still. I need to fuck you, doll."
There's no need to question what exactly he means by that when his cock bullies its way into your small cunt again. This time, you cry his name into the pillows and lightly kick your legs as he drills right into that spot that makes you see stars.
Satoru is no longer gentle with you as he fucks into you over and over again, shamelessly using your body like he's dreamed of for so long now. All the cute noises you make only fuel him more until he's pounding you into the mattress.
Eyes rolling into the back of your skull, all you can do is moan his name loud enough for everyone to hear. Any bit of decency or shame is wiped clean from your mind as Satoru drills his cock into you with precision.
"Still such a tight little pussy..," Satoru laughs, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly. "Do you like it that much when I use you like this? Tell me."
A rough hand grips the roots of your hair on the top of your head as Satoru leans over your body, pressing his front flush to your back as he continues to pound away at your pussy. His mouth is right at your ear, groaning into it. "C'mon, use your big words like you always do, doll."
Tears gather at your eyes and they're quick to run down your cheeks. You can hardly think straight, much less form a coherent sentence with the way he's treating you. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together before your voice comes out as a broken moan paired with sobs. "I love it, Toru! Don't stop, please.. Please, please don't stop.. Feels too good.."
Satoru groans at your words and rewards you with a particularly sharp thrust. The hand in your hair slides down around your throat, choking you lightly as he catches your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss.
Your eyes roll back again as Satoru easily dominates your tongue. The slippery muscles slide against each other, getting all tangled up and making saliva slip from the corner of your mouth. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he grunts into your mouth, his lips finding yours a few times like he needs more of your taste.
"Toru..," you whine, lips swollen from all the kissing and glossy with his saliva. "I'm gonna.. Ah! Oh God!"
"I know baby," Satoru hushes you softly. By the way your cunt clenches around him sporadically, your shaking thighs and those hot tears rolling down your cheeks, he can tell you're close. "Let it go. I've got you."
Your orgasm comes crashing down on you with one skilled roll of Satoru's hips. A yell of his name tears through your throat as you cum all over his cock, making a mess of his lap and the sheets below. He keeps you in check as you squirm and sob and he whispers sweet praises into your ear that go in one ear and out the other. He helps you ride the waves of your high.
"Fuck, gonna fill this sweet pussy up..," Satoru groans and thrusts into your abused cunt a few more times before he buries his face in your neck, groaning your name loudly as he squirts thick ropes of cum right inside. His hips come to a halt as he grinds his essence deeper into you until it seeps out from where he's plugging your hole so deliciously.
For a while, you bask in Satoru's weight collapsing on top of you as he holds you impossibly closer and caresses your lower stomach with sweaty palms. Lazily, he peppers sweet kisses along your neck and pushes your sweaty hair away from his path so he can nuzzle into you all he wants. Snowy strands of hair tickle your face.
"That was..," you start, still out of breath.
"..amazing," Satoru finishes for you with a chuckle.
Not long after, Satoru is kind enough to pull out of you and clean up the mess he's caused. Every once in a while, he claims that it's mainly you who caused the mess since you were, quote "dripping wet", but he's just teasing you, changing not only the sheets but cleaning you up with a damp cloth as well.
Satoru slides right underneath the covers with you and lets you rest your head on his chest while holding you close to his body. Although the room smells like sex, the two of you savor the post-orgasm glow and just..hold each other.
"You know, you're quite the pervert for watching me jack off," Satoru breaks the silence and draws a faux offended gasp from you. Playfully, you smack his chest and he snickers. You always give him such perfect reactions.
"It's you who's the pervert! You jacked off with my panties!" It explains why all your panties disappear for a while only to suddenly spawn from the washing machine.
Satoru rolls his eyes. "Duh? How could I help myself when they're so cute? It's your fault, obviously."
The both of you banter back and forth for a while, mixed with laughter and giggles that fill the room. Despite the fact that Satoru is a panty stealer, the moment is quite sweet. You're glad that you can still laugh with him like this after having done..unspeakable things.
Once the laughter dies down and your eyes grow heavy, you feel like you should confess one more thing before drifting off to dreamland in Satoru's arms. Your voice is quiet and soft as you speak. "I've..used a pair of your boxers.."
Satoru tightens his arm around you and takes a breath through his nose. "Have you touched yourself in them?"
Silence follows, speaking volumes about the deeds you have committed.
"..Can I sniff them?"
"You pervert!"
"Objection! You're just as messed up as I am!"
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feel free to send me your jjk thirsts/thoughts and i'll write a lil' something <3
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adore-laur · 5 months
Text
HOME IS A FEELING
— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃
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——
"Don't turn around." 
The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.
"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around." 
"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good." 
You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country." 
It's not an exaggeration or falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.
Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero." 
You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door. 
You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave." 
"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us." 
Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up. 
A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist. 
"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream. 
The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive. 
Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you. 
Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there. 
Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those?        
A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.
Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep. 
You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own. 
Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to? 
He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of it still make your heart race.
Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.
Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth. 
"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat. 
You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to you now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last? 
Snap out of it! 
"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat. 
Finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours. 
"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry. 
"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."
"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts." 
The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight. 
"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends. 
They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated. 
"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?" 
You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak." 
"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one." 
Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring. 
Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone. 
"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again. 
You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden? 
When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response. 
He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying. 
His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me." 
"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets. 
Harry huffs and sits in his seat. 
Everything used to be so easy with him. 
                                             —— 
                                  Two Years Ago
It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door. 
"Knock knock." 
In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked." 
Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there." 
"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you." 
He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too." 
"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table." 
"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow. 
"Don't fall asleep."
"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night." 
"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."
After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway. 
Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you. 
Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful. 
—— 
You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is. 
Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair. 
This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers. 
You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner. 
When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open, and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text, only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later. 
You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks. 
"Were my hands dirty or something?" 
Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there? 
"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously. 
Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned. 
He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?" 
Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked." 
"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice. 
"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?" 
"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school." 
Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?" 
"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself." 
He asked about you? No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program." 
Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?" 
A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink? 
You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision." 
He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time." 
Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet. 
"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 
He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean." 
You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day." 
He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to." 
"You don't have a roommate?"
"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space." 
Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.
"I know. Don't know why I even asked." 
It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading. 
Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom." 
You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow." 
He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please." 
It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.
"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation. 
Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete. 
Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well. 
He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy. 
"What did we do wrong?" 
                                           —— 
                 Three Months After Graduation
The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend who's not even close to him? 
Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel. 
Your weak spot was him, and you were his. 
You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?" 
"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try." 
He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love. 
"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly." 
Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way." 
"Fine," you repeated. 
You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run? 
He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home." 
The door slammed shut, and reality sunk in. 
—— 
The open sign of the diner flickers below. 
"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him. 
"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit." 
The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on." 
He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face." 
In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other." 
He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me, you know that. The feeling never disappeared no matter how much I pushed it down." 
You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel." 
"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you." 
It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out. 
"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after." 
Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other." 
He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah." 
The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong. 
The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?" 
He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mum, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp." 
"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach. 
"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?" 
It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain? 
"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again." 
You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.
"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me." 
A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either." 
"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?" 
You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."
"What now? We're back to being strangers?" 
"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you." 
You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you. 
"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else." 
It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without a proper goodbye.
"You can hold me." 
And so he does for the last time. 
Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to — his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely winded around you, squeezing the sides of your body. Breathing you in like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other. 
You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you — every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him. 
"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat. 
Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same." 
You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?" 
"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles." 
Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony. 
He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway." 
You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car." 
He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.
Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on. 
"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better. 
Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters. 
"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.
"Now we're both crying."
He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks." 
"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened." 
You're only trying to convince yourself at this point. 
"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?" 
His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either? 
Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.
"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you? 
"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you." 
You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean." 
He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car. 
"Wait."
He freezes. "Yeah?"
Don't make it harder.
Leave. 
Don't hurt yourself. 
Yet the way he looks at you is enough to ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."
Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.
A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge. 
Why? 
Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away. 
You still mean so much to me. 
—— 
Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories with Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening. 
Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him. 
The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you. 
That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it. 
Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly? 
—— 
The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit. 
The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped onto it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you would steal his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you. 
- January 29th - 
Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love from the moment she walks into a room? 
Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul. 
I hope she sees the same thing. 
- June 6th - 
We graduated! We're finally done with high school!
When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms. 
College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other. 
I always have time for her. 
- August 2nd - 
I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology. 
She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it. 
If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again. 
Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later. 
Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mum's house so he could sleep better at night. 
So he can be reminded of home. 
It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. His home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you. 
Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go. 
The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart. 
——
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roosterforme · 8 months
Text
Batting Practice Part 31 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Nothing melts Bradley's heart quite like Everett's excitement for his upcoming adoption. While the three of you count down to the big day, there are unexpected houseguests to deal with and neverending happiness to absorb. 
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smut
Length: 5200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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"Mom! Dad!" Everett shouted, running up the sidewalk when Molly arrived to drop him off at home on Monday evening. "Aunt Molly said I'm getting a baby cousin in March!"
Bradley watched as Molly hustled along the sidewalk behind Everett, and he went to meet her to get his soon to be son's overnight bag. "Thanks for watching him for the weekend," Bradley said, looping the bag over his shoulder while he thought about how sexy you'd looked in Palm Springs wearing your collar and leash. Then he glanced at where you were giving Everett a big hug on the front porch, and he thought about how hot you were even in full mom mode.
"We had fun," Molly said, stifling a yawn. "Bob took him on a hike, and then we did math problems with gummy bears. He's all ready to start second grade." Then she grinned at Bradley and said, "You owe me one for packing your wife's weekend bag with you in mind."
Bradley grunted, cracking his knuckles to try to keep his composure. Only about two more hours until Everett was in bed for the night and he could have his Kitten all to himself. "Yeah, I definitely owe you one."
Molly clasped her hands in front of her baby bump, clearly very pleased that he had enjoyed his wedding gift. Then she bent to kiss Everett and tell him goodbye. "I'll call you after your first day of school tomorrow, Ev. Love you."
"Bye, Aunt Molly!" Everett waved as Bradley's sister-in-law drove away.
Bradley scooped Everett up in his arms and followed you inside. While he had enjoyed the two nights away with you immensely, he missed Ev's laugh and his smile so much. "Pancakes for dinner? And then I'll show you the baseball jersey we got for you in Palm Springs?"
"Yes!" Everett cheered. And then as he helped Bradley mix some chocolate chips into the pancake batter with a spoon, he asked, "Did you adopt me yet?"
"Oh," Bradley grunted, pausing to really look at Ev. Wide, sincere eyes looked back up at him. He thought back to the very first day of tee ball, remembering just how much he really liked talking to Everett right from the start. How he only grew to appreciate him more and more. And he let himself feel all of the overwhelming love right now that he had for this kid. "I wish, Ev. Your mom has to call some people first, and make a few appointments. It might take a few weeks." Bradley didn't want to tell him that it might be next year before anything was finalized.
"Okay," he replied, and his shoulders slumped with dejection. "But I thought it would be cool to tell everyone at school tomorrow that I got a dad over the summer."
Bradley wrapped him in a hug and just held him for a few seconds. "You can still tell them that. I'm your dad, for sure, kiddo. It doesn't matter if it's not official yet."
"Okay," Everett whispered against Bradley's chest. "But when can I write my name is Everett Bradshaw?"
Anything. Anything in the world. Bradley would do anything for this kid. As he held him and thought about how much his life had changed, he figured the fact that he would do whatever it took to make Everett feel happy and loved was enough to make him a good dad. He'd learn all the other details over time. He would probably make more mistakes and inadvertently teach Ev more bad words. But he would do anything for him.
Bradley kissed the top of his head. "Not quite yet. But you know what? You and your mom can probably both start using Bradshaw for your last name around the same time, so that's good, right?" he asked, his voice not much more than a harsh whisper. Everett hugged him tighter, and Bradley didn't ever want to let go, because he found as much comfort in these hugs as Ev seemed to.
And then that was when you walked into the kitchen to find Bradley with tears in his eyes as Everett clung to him.
"I thought we were trying on our new jerseys?" you asked, and Bradley pulled you into the hug as well. 
He smothered your face in kisses before he said, "That's for after dinner. And then we're gonna pack Ev's bag for school and watch Toy Story. But first just let me hold you both."
------------------------
The next day was pure chaos. Everett begged Bradley to drop him off at school on his way to North Island, and on your way to work, you answered your phone when you saw that Molly was calling. She was crying.
"What's wrong?" you asked her, trying to navigate your way through traffic, thinking you may have to turn around and head to her condo. 
"Bob's being deployed," she sobbed, and your heart clenched. 
"When?"
"In a few weeks," she said, sniffling into the phone. "I can't do this without him."
You assumed she meant she couldn't handle her pregnancy on her own, but when you tried to ask, she just cried louder. You could barely understand what she was saying, and you already knew you were going to have to have a conversation with Bradley about having her stay at your house. 
"Molly, it's going to be okay. You'll be great, and I'll be around to help you. And so will Bradley."
She laughed through her tears. "My turd-in-law likes me now, because I didn't pack any real clothing for your honeymoon."
You rolled your eyes. "He has always liked you. I think that just made him like you more. Let me call you back later tonight?"
"Okay." Molly's voice was soft and small as you ended the call, and you hated hearing her like that. But you had other important things to take care of. 
As you parked your car and made your way into your office, you rolled your eyes at Frank. You had bigger things to deal with than him. Once you were settled at your desk, you debated with yourself about which phone call to make first: Danny or your lawyer. You decided on Danny, and when he answered after seven rings with a groggy hello, you got right to the point.
"Any chance you were planning on responding to the petition I sent you for child support?"
You could practically hear him rolling his eyes, and now you were thankful you caught him first thing in the morning. "I have one hundred and twenty days to comply. And that's according to my expensive lawyer that you're forcing me to pay for. I hope you realize that this would mean there's less money for Everett."
Now you were the one rolling your eyes. "It's already been months, Danny."
"I have one hundred and twenty days," he reiterated, practically snarling at you through the phone. "You'll hear more about it when I'm good and ready. I still can't believe you're trying to destroy my life like this. You weren't money hungry prior to a few months ago. And I could still have that tee ball boyfriend of yours charged for entering my home without permission."
"He's my husband now," you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible. 
"Good for you," he replied with a sarcastic chuckle. 
"You're right. It's very good for me," you said, raising your voice over his horrible laughter. "I was just calling to let you know that you're about to be served with some papers that will negate the child support petition. And if you don't comply with what I want, I'll drag you through the legal system until you're out of money."
The line went silent, and you had to bite your tongue, forcing him to be the first one to speak again. "What the fuck do you want?" 
You took a deep breath and thought about your husband and your son and your sister and how much love was in your life now. "I would like to give you exactly what you hoped for: nothing. I can remove Everett and myself from your life completely if you agree to do something for me."
After another long pause, Danny said, "Name your terms."
----------------------------
Bradley was anxious to learn how your conversation with your lawyer had gone. But when he got home, it was just you there in your little black skirt and high heels, standing in the kitchen sipping a bottle of tequila. 
"Whoa," he said, rushing toward you and taking the bottle out of your hand. But you were smiling. 
"I was going to make us some margaritas, but I got carried away," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. Bradley tasted the tang of the liquor on your lips and tongue. 
"Does this mean you have good news, Kitten?" He was holding you tight to him, forehead pressed to yours as he waited, hoping to hear what would make him happier than anything else right now. 
"What are you doing eight weeks from today?" you asked, raking your fingers gently along his scalp. 
"Baby, if you don't tell me right now that I get to adopt Ev in eight weeks, I'm going to cry."
You smiled and pressed your lips to his. "You get to adopt Ev eight weeks from today. We have the date set at the courthouse."
"How?" he asked as his eyes filled with tears. "How did I get this lucky? In less than a week, I got myself a wife and a court date!"
He wasn't sure how he could be this happy and also be crying so much. But when you told him that you got Danny to agree to your terms, he had to wipe away his tears even though he was smiling. 
"Where's Ev now?" he asked, kissing along your neck, overcome with so much relief.
"Molly picked him up from school. She's going to bring him home after dinner."
"So, we're alone?" he asked, smiling against the curve of your jaw and hiking up your skirt. "We're alone. Until I invite Molly to come stay with us while Bob is deployed."
Bradley's hand's froze on the bare backs of your thighs. "I'm sorry, what?"
You kissed and nipped at his lips, but he pulled a few inches away from you. "Bob is being deployed."
"Yeah," he replied. "I got that part."
You rolled your eyes and started to unzip his flight suit. "And Molly is going to be lonely and overwhelmed, and I think she might want to come here for a few weeks."
Bradley groaned. "You can't follow up the good news about Everett with this devastating announcement, Kitten."
"Bradley!" you scolded, playfully smacking his chest as he yanked your skirt up until he was palming your ass. 
"All I'm saying is that Molly is like this annoying little sister that I never wanted, and even though I do love her, she's going to cramp our style, Baby."
"How so?" you asked, easing your hand down the front of his flight suit and stroking his cock. 
"She'll have to sleep in the Phillies room," he whispered. "You know that's where we've been having our quickies."
"Hmm, you're right about that, Coach. Think I could change your mind with a blowjob?"
Bradley grunted and thrust against your hand. He tilted your chin up and kissed you. "Your lips on my cock could get me to agree to anything, and you know it."
You nodded at him with all the confidence in the world before you sank to your knees.
------------------------
Spending several weeks waiting was not ideal. Everett was asking nearly every day if it was almost November yet. Now it was barely October, but the three of you had gotten into a routine. Bradley made breakfast every morning while you packed lunches. Then he dropped Everett off at school, and you went to work a little early. When you picked Everett up from school, most days it was just so he could rush through his homework and dinner and spend an hour or two at the park playing and practicing baseball with Bradley. 
Your husband was true to his promises. And he seemed to like practicing baseball as much as Everett did. When you joined them one day, the October air was cool enough to trick you into believing you could be somewhere besides southern California. And Everett was hitting Bradley's pitches so hard, it was unbelievable. 
"I thought you were the famous Bradshaw?" you called out, teasing Bradley before he threw a pitch. "Don't you pitch for the Navy league? That second grader is kicking your butt."
He glared at you out of the corner of his eye and then dropped his ball and glove and chased you until he caught you in his arms. Your laughter was so loud as he kissed you and tickled you, and you tried to get away, but he was too strong. 
"I take it back! I take it back!" you gasped, out of breath from laughing. "You're amazing! The best pitcher I've ever seen."
He conceded by hugging you from behind instead of tickling you. Then he whispered, "I'm not even kidding, Kitten, he's so fucking good at baseball." Then he kissed you one last time and returned to pitch a slider to Everett who looked permanently happy these days. And when he hit the pitch easily, you realized you were permanently happy, too.
But that night, you had to deal with the thing you knew was coming at some point. It was late, and you were in bed with Bradley's mouth on your pussy. You were close, so so so close. But your phone kept ringing softly on your nightstand, and you could tell it was Molly by the ringtone. 
"Don't answer it," Bradley grunted, licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit. "You can call her back when I'm done with you."
So you laced your fingers through his pretty curls and rode his face, whining his name as your phone started ringing again. Bradley slowed down his tempo, just like he knew you needed, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit, that prickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin sent you. He squeezed your thighs as you planted your feet, and you came so hard, you were seeing stars. Your knee was shaking. He was unrelenting. Your vision blurred every time you blinked, but a beat later, Bradley's body was wrenched away from yours, and he was out the bedroom door and at the top of the steps with a baseball bat in his hand. 
Then you heard Molly's soft voice calling up from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm sorry. It's just me."
You tried to scramble for your clothing, but you realized Bradley had undressed you over by the bathroom. And then you realized that he was standing there in his snug underwear with a massive erection, holding the bat like he was about to take someone's head off with it. He must have heard Molly let herself in the house. 
As you located your clothing on the floor, Bradley lowered the bat, nodded and said, "Your sister's here."
"Thanks," you told him, yanking your panties on and slipping into his undershirt. You kissed him quickly as you rushed down the stairs and into the living room where she was standing with a tote bag and a bouquet of those hideous flowers she liked so much. She was crying softly. 
"I can't," she whispered, and you wrapped your arms around her. "I can't stay there alone another night. I hate being away from Bob. You know what he did? He got the guy from the gas station to deliver the flowers to me today, because it's the six month anniversary of the first time he said he loved me."
"Oh, Molly," you whispered, kissing her forehead. 
"He set this shit up before he left!" she wailed. "I don't even know what he's doing today, because I haven't talked to him in a week. A week! And now I interrupted you having sex, and I can tell Bradley's mad at me."
You held her close. "He's not mad at you, Molly. He just thought you were a burglar or something."
"I'm sorry," she moaned, holding the flowers out to the side so they didn't get crushed. Her belly felt like it had gotten bigger since the last time you saw her, and you patted her there which made her smile. 
"Stop apologizing. You can stay with us until Bob gets back." You really should have run that past Bradley before you made such a bold declaration, but you knew he wouldn't fuss too much. Probably. So you coaxed Molly into letting you put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen, and then you led her upstairs to where Bradley was wearing a full set of pajamas and brushing his teeth in your bathroom. 
"Coach?" you called out to him softly, and he made eye contact with you in the mirror. "She's going to stay with us." You weren't really asking, and he didn't look upset. He just nodded and then spit out the toothpaste.
"I figured," he said, rinsing his mouth and drying his hands. He kissed you and pulled you in for a hug before adding, "I'll go sleep in the Phillies room for the night. Just tonight. That way you can talk to her so she can fall asleep. But after tomorrow morning, it's all red and white and the letter P everywhere for your sister. I don't fucking care how much she misses Bob. Got it?"
"Got it," you told him with a smile. "You're the best husband in the world."
"I know," he said with a grumble, but he was smiling too. And when he passed Molly in the hallway, she was still holding one of the flowers. He kissed her on the forehead without saying anything else, and then he walked into the Phillies room as Molly climbed in bed with you.
--------------------------
Everett was up so early on Halloween, Bradley needed to drink two cups of coffee just to keep up with him. "If you're this excited now, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be collecting copious amounts of candy later." He raised the mug to his lips again as you and Molly walked into the kitchen. 
The three of you watched Everett bounce over to the white board on the refrigerator and update it to say that there were just ten days left until his adoption. That meant that Bob would be home in nine days. That also meant that Molly would be out of here in nine days or less, and that did indeed bring a smile to Bradley's face. 
It wasn't that he didn't like Molly. He actually loved her. Everett was obsessed with his Aunt Molly, and she loved spending time with him. She was fun and witty, and it brought Bradley joy to pick on her. But she was also messy, and she was eating all of their food, and he couldn't walk around in his underwear as much as he had gotten used to. 
But last night, she'd happily taken Everett out for dinner and to the movies for a few hours with Bradley's credit card. And you'd worn your collar and leash for him along with your cat ears and tail, and holy shit, he needed to stop thinking about it right now.
"Morning, Kitten," he grunted as he poured you some coffee. 
"Ten more days!" Everett shouted.
"Nine more days!" Molly shouted.
But you bit your lip and pulled a piece of mail out of the tray on the counter. "I thought it would be more fun to open this when we were all together," you said, tearing into the envelope and holding up your new social security card. "But I'm officially a Bradshaw."
"Yes!" Bradley whooped, hoisting you up into his arms as you squealed. Molly and Ev did an obnoxious dance across the kitchen as Bradley kissed your neck and ear while you chanted Bradshaw, Bradshaw.
"Everett will be next! I'm buying us one of those stupid flags people hang from their porch with their last name on it, I don't even care," you said as Bradley set you down, and his lips found yours.
"I love you, Kitten."
That evening, as the four of you got ready to go trick-or-treating, Bradley pulled on his Navy Waves uniform and then buttoned you into one of his Phillies jerseys.
"You'll have to borrow this until we can get you some Phillies gear of your own, Mrs. Bradshaw. Don't spill anything on this one," he muttered. "It's vintage."
You rolled your eyes so hard and then said, "No eating chocolate in it then?"
"No, no, no, absolutely no chocolate. This belonged to my dad."
"Oh," you gasped as he did up the last button. "Then I can't wear it tonight! It's too special."
You reached for the buttons, but Bradley stopped you with his larger hands. "Nah, it's okay, Kitten. Ol' Goose would have wanted you to wear it. I think he'd be happy to see me with you and Ev right now." Actually, Bradley knew both of his parents would have loved you and adored Everett. It was hard for him to think about the way Carole would have doted on her grandson. 
The look of awe on your face as you said, "Thank you. No chocolate," made Bradley chuckle. 
Then Molly's booming voice in the hallway had you pulling the door open to reveal her standing there dressed as a pregnant umpire. "Are you ready to rumble?!" she shouted into a bullhorn that had you and Bradley covering your ears while Everett chanted and cheered. 
"Baseball umpires don't use bullhorns! And they don't say that!" Bradley shouted over the ruckus, but when he reached for it, Molly yanked it away from him. 
"This one does," she said into the speaker, and Bradley thought one of them might not make it back tonight. 
But it was so hard to be annoyed when the four of you looked like you were ready to play baseball. And then Bradley had you take a photo of him kneeling down on the porch next to Everett dressed as a Phillies player. The photo was so sweet, he immediately set it as his lock screen. 
"Are we ready to go?" Molly asked using the bullhorn, and Bradley gritted his teeth. "Ev, that's a foul for looking so cute in your Halloween costume. You owe me a Snickers bar for that."
"That's not what umpires do," Bradley ground out, digging around in the massive bowl of candy that you had set on the porch steps, searching for the only thing that might make Molly stop.
"And my sister gets a red card for leaving the candy on the porch," she added through the speaker. "That'll get stolen by the first kid that comes by. Rookie mistake. I used to do that with my friends."
You just shook your head as Bradley said, "There aren't even red cards-"
But Molly turned the horn toward him. "And Bradley gets a foul for being a turd."
But then his fingers wrapped around the king sized Hershey's bar and he waved it in her face. "I'll trade you this for the bullhorn, Molly. Make good decisions."
She eyed him with trepidation, but he knew that candy was her weakness now more than ever. She'd finished a whole bag of fun sized Kit Kats two nights ago, and Bradley had to go to Target to replenish the Halloween supply. When Molly lunged for the Hershey's bar, Bradley quickly grabbed the bullhorn and shoved it discreetly into the shrubs as she immediately opened the wrapper. 
And after that, he had a pretty great night. Everett collected three pillowcases full of candy, and Molly ate it along the way while she repeatedly yelled, "Strike three, you're out!" every time Bradley tried to give you a kiss. But he was happy that Molly was having a night where she wasn't constantly thinking about Bob. 
"Can we get a family photo next to that huge inflatable pumpkin?" you asked, pointing at the lawn decoration in front of the last house on the street. Everett went running for the pumpkin, all hopped up on sugar. 
"Yep," Bradley said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Molly held her hand out to take it from him, but he shook his head. "You need to be in the family photo, too." So he flagged down another dad who agreed to take the picture for them, and you slipped your arm around his waist and gave him a kiss just after the photo was taken.
"Thanks, Coach," you whispered, your soft voice right next to his ear. 
"Thanks, turd," Molly told him, trying to hide the tears she was swiping at as she turned to chase Everett down the sidewalk yelling about interference and personal fouls. 
But it was after everyone got home and Everett and Molly were sound asleep that Bradley's night got even better. He was tired, he really was, but as soon as you very carefully unbuttoned and removed his vintage Phillies jersey, you looked at him and licked your lips. 
"Kitten?" he asked softly, his cock already very interested in what might be happening next. 
You closed your eyes and said, "I bought something I wanted to try on for you."
Bradley groaned, ready to beg. "Yes," he grunted, and you were pushing him toward the bed as he got undressed down to his underwear. 
"Close your eyes. No peeking," you whispered, turning on the soft bedside lamp and turning off the overhead light. So he closed his eyes and listened to you flitting around the room, opening drawers and the closet door. His hand was down the front of his boxer shorts, and he was stroking himself when he felt your warm lips meet his. He moaned softly, "Can I look yet, Kitten?"
Once you were straddling his waist, your ass rubbing his cock through his underwear, you whispered, "My name is Lieutenant Kitten," and his eyes opened immediately. You were wearing his khaki uniform shirt, complete with his Bradshaw name tag. His favorite pair of aviators were perched low on your nose, and his dog tags were tucked between your breasts, hidden by the shirt. 
"You're the sexiest naval officer I have ever seen," Bradley promised, skimming his rough fingertips down your soft thigh, bent knee and calf. He smirked as you raised his hand to your lips and kissed his wedding band. "Lieutenant Kitten."
As you leaned forward to kiss his lips, Bradley noticed some dark green lace peeking out from the collar of the khaki shirt, and he started working on the buttons as you licked the seam of his lips. 
He felt the fabric before he saw it. You were covered in green lace from your tits down to your pussy, and he was already nudging it to the side, dying to know how wet you were. 
"You're in charge, Lieutenant," he whispered, his voice harsh. "What would you like me to do?" 
"You better make me cum."
He moaned as you lifted your hips, and he slipped that finger right inside you. So warm and silky. The bodysuit fit you like a dream, and you were leaning back, hands on his thighs, letting him watch your pussy sink down around two of his fingers now. You were rolling your hips slowly, making Bradley throb, but he was determined to give you exactly what you wanted first. 
God, had you ever been this wet before? You were practically dripping. "Does that feel good, Lieutenant?" he asked. 
"Keep going. Keep going." 
With three fingers now inside you and his thumb on your clit, Bradley worked you over at a leisurely pace that had him almost in a trance. The way you were moving looked obscene, like he was viewing something so sexy, so filthy, it was taboo. He was barely moving his hand now, just listening to your little grunts and moans as they got louder while you fucked yourself on his hand.
"God damn," he whispered, tapping your clit softly each time you withdrew to his fingertips, earning him a little gasp. 
"Bradley," you whined, getting a little louder now as you tilted your head forward to look him in the eye. Your grip tightened on his thighs, and his cock was demanding a fair share of your body, but he could tell you were close to orgasm. 
"Baby," he whined, your slick coating him and glistening as you rocked your body forward one, two, three more times, and then your pussy clenched, grabbing at his fingers. "Fuck."
"Oh my god!" you whined, lips parted, gasping as you jerked yourself along his fingers.
"I need to fuck you," he said, nodding his head. "Please?"
"Yes," you gasped, easing yourself onto your back, legs spread wide. He pushed that little bit of green lace to the side and coated his cock with the wetness on his hand, and then he fucked you. And he fucked you so hard, your back arched. And then he fucked you even harder, your tits bouncing free of the bodysuit while he shoved his still slick fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet.
He didn't last; he knew he wouldn't. Not with you in brand new lingerie and his shirt. Not with the chain of his dog tags tangled up with your paw print necklace. He filled you up with his cum as he leaned down, easing his fingers out of your mouth and replacing them with his tongue. Everything was back to that languid pace you'd set earlier as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tasted his mouth. 
Bradley pulled away to look at your pretty face, and you smiled as you ran your fingers along the scars on his cheek. "Did you enjoy your Halloween, Coach?"
With a kiss to the tip of your nose, Bradley pulled himself free from your body and collected you against his chest. He carefully leaned back against his pillow, holding you close with you still in his khaki shirt. "I did," he said thoughtfully, rubbing your arm. "I...well, I know it's kind of silly, but the last time I spent a Halloween with my dad was when I was three, and now I'm a dad."
"That's not silly," you told him. "And you're not just any dad. You're the best."
He held you tight. "You think Ev is going to make us dress as baseball players again next year?"
"Oh, one hundred percent."
---------------------------
Just two more parts left now! Thanks so much for reading! If there's something for Coach, Kitten and Ev that you're hoping to see, hit me up. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32
PART 32
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
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712 notes · View notes
papergirllife · 5 months
Text
Jeong Jaehyun
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CEO!Jaehyun x Secretary!reader
Synopsis:
You and Jaehyun take a trip to Florence and things get interesting on a boat with a surprise at the end :)))
warnings: public s*x (kinda), unprotected s*x, ch*king, br**ding kink, c*ck warming, strength kink, brief sub drop, tooth rotting fluff.
a/n: sorry i can't make it in time for a halloween fic, that would probably come out a bit later than expected :((, so here's a little treat instead to keep you guys sated :)))
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The summer breeze feels freeing against your skin, the salt air is something you don't want to forget, the sea is a sparkling teal, you could really get used to this.
"What's on your mind, love?" Jaehyun asks, his big arms wrapped around your waist, his chin perched on your shoulder, you can feel his breath tickling your ears.
"That I'm gonna miss this very much when we're back in Seoul," you say with a longing sigh at the beautiful view.
Jaehyun hums in agreement, watching you swirl your glass of white wine before taking a long sip, you're taking in the beautiful view of Florence's sea view while he takes in his view, you, your hair blowing by, his prada sunglasses perched on the beautiful slope of your nose, your lips shining from the latest lip oil he's splurged on you after he's seen you watching numerous tiktoks of it. 
"We can come here again, you know," Jaehyun proposes, his cheek brushing against yours, nuzzling into your warmth.
"One, you have a company to run. Two, it's too expensive to do this again," you chide, it's been days already and still you never miss to mention the fact that Jaehyun dropped a bomb to plan this trip and book a whole yacht for the two of you, including a league of staff at your beck and call, the chef himself is from some really popular restaurant, his fresh pasta is to die for, you're sure the price for his services is deadly as well.
"I told you this before, I'd give you the whole world if you want," Jaehyun reminds you with a playful nudge of his head at yours, getting a laugh out of you.
"And how many times do I have to remind you? You as your own person is the equivalent of my world, not Jeong Jaehyun the CEO of a huge company, and not the benefits that come with your financial position," you say with a huff, you just know this trip is at least a year's worth of your salary, that he keeps adding for no reason mind you, what's the use of money when this man doesn't let you spend a cent of your own coin when he's around?
"I know, sweetheart, I just like spoiling you, treat it as a kink of mine, that I have this obsession with giving you princess treatment," Jaehyun says, trying to explain himself into your good books again.
"Whatever, I'm still not letting you spend a cent on groceries though," you argue, that was the deal when you moved in with him and found out that he paid for everything, utilities, necessities, your wardrobe; it was almost impossible to get him to agree to let you spend on groceries, that and whatever you manage to pick up on your way back when he works later than you, like that robot vacuum and mop hybrid you splurged on, and spending more on better quality groceries, including wine, which got a huff out of your mostly patient boyfriend.
"Wine is wine," he argued, hands on his waist, his brows furrowed, but you see right through him, he could never get mad at you.
"I put wine in pasta, and it's sold in the grocer, so it's considered as groceries," you say with a smug tone, and at that moment, Jaehyun thinks you look borderline cunning.
"Fine…"
"When we're married, I'm going to have to reevaluate our terms," Jaehyun says with a chuckle, kissing your temple.
"That's not going to be soon anyways," you say with a huff before finishing your glass of pricey wine.
"That can be changed," Jaehyun says, snatching the empty glass out of your hands, passing it to the staff before he tells her to dismiss everyone below deck.
"Right, as if you want to be tied down this quickly," you say, turning from the railing to face Jaehyun, slapping his chest playfully.
"Why? You don't think I love you enough to be tied down to you?" Jaehyun asks, the mirth disappearing in his eyes, catching you off guard.
"You're still very young, men don't like settling down so quickly," you say, cupping his cheeks, patting his cheeks, you love his mochi cheeks. 
"I'm 26, not 16, I know what I want, and that's loving you, for eternity," Jaehyun mumbles, talking despite his cheeks being squished by you, which he's quick to change, grasping your hands in his, placing them on his sturdy shoulders, "I'll prove my love to you," Jaehyun says before he slams his lips to yours, catching you off guard.
After 3 years of being with him, you still get light headed from the way he kisses you, and he knows, manoeuvring you to the big L shaped sofa.
"I'm going to prove to you now, that my love for you is as endless as the skies and the seas," Jaehyun promises after his lips part from yours. 
You quickly peel your clothes off of you, savouring Jaehyun's lustful eyes on you.
"You're a sight to behold," Jaehyun mutters before he reconnects his lips with yours. 
He just can't get enough of you today, how sweet you taste, your lip oil, the taste of bitter grape on your tongue, he's a fiend and you're his drug.
He shudders when he feels your hands make a quick work of getting rid of his clothes, your soft hands trailing through the arms that he's trained very hard for, grasping onto his biceps, Jaehyun smiles at the action, you've always been a fan of his muscles, spending your free time reading while Jaehyun works out in his personal gym, not a page turned.
Jaehyun breaks the kiss, looking at you with love drunk eyes.
"Get on fours for me, facing the ocean, let the world see how I worship my baby," Jaehyun says with mirth, eyes shining like a boy on Christmas day.
"As you wish, boss," you say before breaking out laughing when you see your boyfriend's deadpan expression.
"Very funny," Jaehyun muses before he gets distracted by the sight of your ass, a hand outstretched to smack one of your cheeks lightly, his cock growing hard at the sight of your cheek jiggling in his hold.
Jaehyun gets comfortable on the sofa before he bends down to get a quick taste, adjusting your body to his height, or he'd get a neck cramp and an earful from you later. 
Jaehyun groans when he gets an actual taste, and with one taste, he's hooked, tongue going from kitten licks to sinking his tongue deep inside your cunt, a hand grasping your cheeks open while his other hand makes its way to your sweet bundle of nerves, rotating your clit in slow circles, sending shocks down where Jaehyun's situated, drenching his mouth with your sweet juices, dripping down his chin, and the sounds you make, calling out to his name with that airy high pitched tone that only he gets to hear, if there's one thing that Jaehyun would never try in bed with you is gagging, god forbid him cockblocking himself from an eargasm, not even his favourite artists could compare to this personal melody only he gets to listens to.
You’re not the type to be super loud or something, in fact, Jaehyun often needs to remind you to be as loud as you want to be, and now with the staff being dismissed, you still fear that you’d be heard by anyone lingering nearby, but Jaeyhyun’s skillful tongue has your inhibitions down, his tongue and fingers strumming your body like a guitar, and he can tell you’re close, with the way you’ve drenched his hand, hips unconsciously pushing back to meet his touch, when his hands meet your swollen bundle of nerves, gasps of his name reach Jaehyun’s ears before he feels your juices drip down his hand.
Jaehyun has that smirk that you always tease for looking like an evil character in the dramas you always watch, the one where his face makes unconsciously, usually when he manages to get you flustered or at times like these, when Jaehyun makes a mess out of you just from his sheer dedication and familiarity of your body that he had studied obsessively.
“You need a rest, sweetheart?” Jaehyun asks when he helps you turn to face him again.
“I’m ready, we need to hurry up, I don’t want the staff to think we’re having sex right now,” you say before swivelling your hips on his length, he’s already hard and it’s just from pleasuring you, the thought has flowers blooming in your heart.
“But we are fucking right now,” Jaehyun said before he bellows out a full on laugh, which led to you shushing him with the palm of your hand.
“Exactly, that’s why we need to hurry up,” you said before you give Jaehyun back his ability to talk, positioning yourself away from Jaehyun, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s second favourite sight comes into view, the only ‘human’ peach he desires.
“So romantic of you,” Jaehyun jokes, lightly smacking your butt, he could never get bored of doing that.
“I want to enjoy the view,” you say with a huff, finally settling into a spot where the cushion feels comfortable under your elbows and knees.
“See how the horizon looks endless? My love for you is as deep as the sea, and as limitless as the sky,” Jaehyun says by your ear before he crouches over you to kiss you, he always does that, sealing his affirmations for you with a kiss.
Just a quick one, then he traces your back with his lips, the soft kisses tracing your arched spine, way down till your tailbone before he rises up again, his warm palms spreading you open gently, the sea breeze hitting your most intimate parts of you, the cool feeling quickly fading when you feel Jaehyun’s length sinking inside you, the stretch so familiar, comforting even, as the pleasure that only Jaehyun could give you once again dance through your nerves, and the feeling of being so full, so complete, you don’t think you’d want to live a world without Jaehyun, not when you’re an addict for this man you call your lover, the power he holds over you is stronger than any temptation this world has to offer.
Your eyes go cross when Jaehyun finally deems you ready for him to pick up the pace, he locates your sweet spot with the blunt of his tip, and you lose some of your composure, Jaehyun’s name escaping your lips, his name broken in parts of two and three, depending on the rhythm of his hips, and soon the beautiful view in front of you is distorted from your lust altered vision, the horizon blurring into one, just like you and Jaehyun, bodies smudged into one being, fused together by the love the two of you share.
“Ready to fall apart again, my love?” Jaehyun asks, his voice laboured from his movements, at first you didn’t know what he was saying, that is, until you feel his fingertips grazing your clit again, your hips jerking at the touch, still sensitive from before, but Jaehyun, being the service dom he is, he never wants to push you into a quick succession without your permission, hence he waits for the quick nod of your head and the breathless yes you barely managed to utter before he draws figure eights onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, he reads your body like an open book, the way you’re slumped forward, arms supporting your body instead of your elbows now, he just knows he’s going to get complaints about how he tires your body out every time you guys have sex.
Jaehyun’s spare hand winds around the base of your neck, pulling you up with a gasp of your lips, his lips touching yours, his nose digging into your cheek, the feeling so domestic, so distracting that you didn’t even notice his hand leaving your neck before you feel one of your nipples pinched between his fingers, and that’s what pushes you over the edge, your body already high strung from just his cock inside you, but his pace stutters before you feel the warmth of his seed paint your walls, the feeling sending a shudder down your back.
Jaehyun rides out your high with slow and deep thrusts, and when he starts picking up the pace again, you indulge him, just as much as he indulges in you, he knows you love a little bit of pain, sending your body into another wave of pleasurable crescendo with a cry of his name and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, and then he stops, pulling out of you gently while he whispers of how good you were for him amongst other praises that ground you after a heavier session like that. 
“You with me baby?” Jaehyun asks while he manoeuvres you on your back, palms cradling your cheeks as if he’s trying to pull you back to the right headspace, and after a few blinks to clear your head, you remember who you are and most importantly, where you are.
“Oh my god, we need to hurry and get dressed,” you say, your eyes frantically scanning around to find your clothes.
“Hey, no rush, I’ll find your clothes and dress you, you just sit here and catch your breath, okay?” Jaehyun assures you before he quickly fetches your clothes and dresses you, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before he dresses himself and retrieves the pitcher of water to fill your glass for you, handing it to you, you didn’t realise how thirsty you were until you finished it.
“Feeling better now?” Jaehyun asks after draining his own glass.
“Yeah, would’ve liked having you stay inside me for a bit longer though, but this is definitely not the place to do so,” you say with a chuckle.
“Let’s retire back to our cabin then, I want cuddles anyways,” Jaehyun suggests before he sweeps you off the couch, carrying you bridal style down back to your room. 
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When the two of you wake, it’s evening and the chef is preparing your dinner on deck, the scent of pasta sauce making your stomach rumble after what Jaehyun put you through. 
“Are you excited to go to Milan tomorrow? It’s fashion week after all,” Jaehyun says, he used the excuse of his artists’ brand endorsement to travel all the way here, not that he needed one, but the board’s old men are sometimes very…demanding.
“Yeah, I’m excited to see the Galleria, it always looks so pretty in photos,” you say, when Jaehyun first announced the two of you would be going to Italy, you quickly looked up what's famous there, other than the leaning tower and the colosseum. 
“We can go there right after we rest up, and the fashion show doesn’t take all that long, business meetings are the day after the show, so we’ll have plenty of time together,” Jaehyun promises, he’s always been so accommodating to you, always trying his best to balance his work and you, and for that, you’ll always be grateful.
“You’re sure it’s not getting in the way of your work?” you ask, but Jaehyun is quick to shake his head no, before the chef announces that dinner is served.
Dinner was brief, both of you were starving from today’s strenuous activity, and now you and Jaehyun are once again seated on the sofa, planning to take a walk around town for dessert after your dinner digests.
“There’s something I need to do before we dock,” Jaehyun says before he sees the staff once again retreating down below deck, glad that they remember his request for them to do so.
“What is it?” you ask, quickly assuming that he needs to take a call from Seoul or something, he tries not to, but you know it’s a given with his job and you respect it.
Then, Jaehyun gets down on one knee, his hand reaching into his pant’s pocket to reach for something bulky, and when you see the velvet material, your heart drops.
“I remember what you said this afternoon, about men my age not willing to settle down so soon, but I’m here, down on one knee, to prove to you that I’m willing to settle down young, If you give me the chance, I’d love if you gave me the chance to be truly yours, I know I’m a busy man, and that I have moments where I don’t give you enough of my time and attention,” Jaehyun says with melancholy swimming in his eyes, and immediately you shake your head, but before you could open your mouth to protest, Jaehyun continues his speech, “I spent three years with you now, lived together for two, but I want to spend every life with you if given the chance, so in this life, would I be able to have the honour to officially call you mine? You can finally be Mrs Jeong,” Jaehyun says with utmost sincerity, even the little inside joke he tacked on is a goal of his.
“Jaehyun, I’d be a dumbass to not say no,” you say before squatting down to his level, tackling him against the sofa with a big fat kiss, your weight crashing down on him, the air getting pushed out of his lungs from your sheer force, but Jaehyun would let you do it over and over again if it means he gets to see you smile this wide, everyday of his life.
“Thank you, sweetheart, I love you, more than you’d ever imagine, Mrs Jeong.”
“I love you too, Mr Jeong.”
803 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 2 months
Text
Jungkook
+1 Chance | Short/Oneshot
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In which some people get an extra life.
Tags/Warnings: pro Esports!Kook, Teenage crushes to ???, SFW, Short, Open ending, all around fluffy
Length: 2.2k Words
A/N: Yes I'm still writing on existing stuff dw. Just a random valentines day drabble. Not proofread.
—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—
You met Jungkook in summer, many years ago, when the sun was hot and your friends turned out to be nothing but situationships.
You’d been seeing the hints of their friendship not being of honest nature for a while now- but as a young girl barely about to graduate a year later, you didn’t want to be alone during your allegedly best years of your life. So you ignored the warnings one after another, always found excuses as to why their behavior was totally justifiable and normal, even if deep down you knew that you were just trying to convince yourself of that.
And then, you met him- a guy showing you honest kindness for nothing asked in return.
It was hot, sun burning, and you’d tried to get out the pool- but your small strawberry floaty had kept slipping from underneath you, making it hard to find the strength to get out of the large pool in your ‘friend’s’ backyard by yourself- when suddenly, a hand had grabbed the red item to keep it still, so you could properly hold onto it for a moment.
“Here- let me help.” He’d said, black nail polish chipped. And you’d taken on the help, too tired to really care about the fact that your friend had told you to just ignore her brother’s ‘weirdo friends’- him clearly being one of them. “Want me to help you get out? The sun is pretty hot right now, you should get out soon.” He had worried a little, and you'd nodded, pushing yourself up on the ledge after having let go of the floaty, finally having been able to escape the pool with his help, as he made sure you wouldn’t slip or end up back inside because of your strength leaving you.
You weren’t sure back then where your friends even were at that point. But somehow, it was like a moment of realization- a clear sign you couldn’t ignore any longer. “your uh.. friends went to watch a movie upstairs now, in Kate’s room..” he says, watching you sit down in the shade, drying yourself with a towel you brought.
“..thanks.” you’d mumbled. “I.. Probably should go home now.” You’d shrugged, feeling ashamed and embarrassed to ever having trusted these people at all. All they did was use your kindness and clear need for just someone to talk to and befriend- and you’d willingly accepted that, blinded by the glimpses of happiness they’d made you feel every now and then.
They knew how to manipulate you- keep you happy and clingy enough with occasional treats never given too often.
“I mean.. I can drive you. It’s late.” Jungkook had offered you. “But we’re also missing a fourth player for mario-cart right now, down in Kate’s brother’s room.” He’d jokingly told you- something that had given you hope.
“..but won’t it be weird?” You’d worried. “They don’t know me.”
“Well, everyone’s a stranger when you first meet them.” Jungkook had laughed, as he gave you a towel from close by, both of you having slowly walked back into the house. “I’m Jungkook. Just in case you didn’t know. “ He’d introduced himself, smiling like he’s the sun itself.
And little did you know that on that day, as you gave him your name, you both also set the foundation for much more than just a friendship.
—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—
“So you two have history?” Your friend asks, sitting across from you on your hotel room floor, both of you occupied with making sure your freshly applied nail polish dries well. You’re on a weekend trip for just the two of you, to take some time off the stressful life and to nourish your friendship a little.
“Not really.” You shrug. “I wouldn’t call it that. More so.. An awkward friendship when I was younger, before I moved away.” You answer, explaining your situation as to why Jeon Jungkook, one of the current top e-sports players had greeted you when you randomly ran into each other today in the hotel hallway.
“Oh, so he was the guy you had a crush on when you were younger?” She teases, never forgetting anything it seems like- not even a random confession during a childish game of never-have-I-ever. “I knew it. Damn, you were so close! Imagine your life if you’d bagged that guy.” She swoons, having made it known time and time again that she wouldn’t pass up any opportunity to ‘get her hands on those abs’ if she ever had the chance to do so. You know this is simply a joke, but still, her words do make you think.
How would your life have turned out if you got with him?
Would he have chosen to go against his parents’ advice to just keep his hobby as, well, a hobby, or would he have accepted their wishes to instead study something more steady, to earn a position in a stable company? You’ll never know- but despite that, its still interesting to just humor that idea for a moment.
“Hey, maybe there’s still tickets for the tournament!” Your friend chirps up, having noticed her nailpolish having dried by now, phone fetched and disconnected from the charger as she swipes and inputs her passcode to unlock it. “Or I’ll ask if we can have my brother’s tickets, since he didn’t go..” She mumbles, texting him most likely now.
“It’s.. I don’t know, we wanted to go out for dinner though.” You mumble, checking your polish for any imperfections. “You don’t even like gaming that much.” You also add, teasingly so. She rolls her eyes.
“Just cause I don’t play them, doesn’t mean I cant enjoy watching someone play them instead.” She argues. “Also, you can watch the game- I'll watch the pretty boy.” She winks, making you laugh with her, when she receives a text, phone falling out of her hand for a second before she can pick it up again. “Oh- he said we can have them!” She chirps up, clearly excited. “As far as I know they’re free seating- so if we’re early, we get to choose where we wanna sit and watch.” She explains, texting him some more while you contemplate.
This is dumb. He probably has a girlfriend, a life of his own, hell- you have a life of your own now, far away from him. There’s no reason for you to try and test your luck like this, but you’re also a fan of the game he’s competing at. So, maybe..
Yeah. You’re totally not doing it for him. You’re just going to watch the gameplay.
What’s the worst that can happen?
—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—
It’s not even the next day yet, but you already see him again.
On your way down to the reception desk, mission clear in your head to muster up the courage to ask for another pillow instead of sleeping uncomfortably like this, you’ve barely exited your room when your eyes meet again in the hallway.
He says your name. His voice has gotten deeper after all those years, you notice. You nod, and he smiles, the turn of the corner of his mouth pulling your attention to the twin piercing he has placed there, silver rings piercing right through his skin. “It’s been a while.” He offers, hands in the pockets of his pants. He must’ve been out with his teammates, smell of faint cigarette smoke clinging to him as you walk a bit closer.
You nod. You feel awkward, all dressed down like this, having gotten reader for bed hours before, trying to find sleep without the extra comfort another pillow would bring you. “how are you?” He asks, and again, you nod.
You hate this. You’re still terrible at talking to people. “I’m good.. and you?” You answer, avoiding eye contact. Of course he’s obviously doing good- great even, about to bag thousands of prize money tomorrow when he’ll surely win the tournament.
“Good. Great even, now that I.. anyways, do.. What’re you doing here?” He wonders, clearly happy to initiate smalltalk. “vacation or work?”
“vacation. With.. a friend of mine.” You tell him, toes digging onto the fluffy slippers you brought on this trip for yourself. “like.. a girl’s weekend.” You explain, and he nods.
“Yeah.. guess you gotta leave the men at home sometimes to unwind.” He jokes.
“hmhm. Well, she had to- I don’t, you know, have anyone, so I’m flexible.” You tell him, and that seems to make his eyes sparkle almost like you’ve challenged him. Which you didn’t- so why does he look so energized now.
“Cool! I mean.. yeah.” He nods to himself, before he seems to realize something. “Oh hey, if I interrupted you or I’m holding you in a conversation, don’t mind me! You look like you were on your way somewhere-“ he starts, pointing down the gall to the elevator. “But uh.. if you wanna go down, there’s a bunch of drunks down in the lobby, just a warning.” He offers, making you deflate.
“Oh.” You hum, defeated. Well, maybe you cal roll up your sweater or something.
“If you.. I can go with you, if you’d like.” He offers. "I’m still pretty fit. Still boxing. So.. I can be your meat-shield basically.” He jokes, making you giggle, his eyes brightening up at the sound and sight.
“I.. that would be nice, actually.” You accept, and he happily walks next to you into the elevator at that, faint music drowning our the heavy buzzing of the mechanics.
“so uh.. how’s your family?” He wonders. “is your dad still making your mom’s life harder every day?” He jokes, but you shake your head, smiling fondly.
“No, they surprisingly settled these days. They’re.. on a trip themselves. For valentines day and all.” You explain, and Jungkook nods.
“romantic.” He teases, and you giggle, nodding along.
“they.. ask about you a lot. It’s kind of funny.” You tell him. “I can only ever tell them what I see online though.” You shrug.
“You.. know what I do?” he wonders, and your eyes widen as you look at him.
“are you kidding me? You’re the top player at my favorite game.” You say, making his expression moron into one of both wonder- and slightly bashful.
“I uh.. didn’t know. Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.” He laughs it off. “I.. have a tournament actually, tomorrow.”
“I know.” You nod, elevator doors opening. “I’ll be there. With my friend.” You say.
“Oh wow.” He chuckles. “I better win, in that case.” He.. flirts? As he walks towards the reception desk with you- drunk group of friends luckily only being loud, but not aggressive. “where will you sit?”
“its.. free seating, so I’m not sure.” You mumble, before you ask the lady at the desk for another pillow for your room number.
“I could probably reserve some good seats.” He says, and you smile.
“You really don’t have to.” You reassure him, when he suddenly asks the lady for something else as well- a flower from the last bouquet left over from the hotel’s valentines sale for the guests. She happily gives it to him, free of charge, before she tells you that housekeeping will bring you the pillow shortly, before she resumes her own work again, letting you and Jungkook walk back into the elevator.
You’re not sure what you think of this- but junkook has liked flowers back then, so why wouldn’t he still like flowers now. Or, maybe he’s staying here with his girlfriend, and he’s just wanting to gift her something on his way back to her- it’s valentines day, after all.
“I’ll.. can I have your number? To text you where you’ll sit tomorrow.” He asks, and you nod, walking into your room to fetch your phone, showing your number for him to type into his own, screen cracked a little in one corner. “awesome. Now then, the only thing I gotta do is..-“ he starts, slipping the phone in the pocket of his pants. “-ask you to be my valentine?” He wonders, holding the flower out to you. "Don’t have to say yes. I’m a big boy, I can take rejection.” He jokes.
“Can I.. ask why?” You wonder, and he grins, shrugging.
“I feel like, maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.” He simply answers. “..giving me a second chance, to ask you out for real this time.”
“wait.. you mean-“ you stammer, and he nods.
“I had.. kind of a huge crush on you back then. And, seeing you again.. it all just.. flared up again. Exactly the same way.” He confesses. “I’m not.. asking for something big. Just one date- and we’ll go from there.” He asks, and you slowly take the flower from him, smile on your lips as you think about his words. Fate, huh? A universe’s second chance? What are the chances?
You decide you don’t care.
“okay.” You answer him,-
And his eyes sparkle brightly, while he smiles at you like you’re the sun.
—--——--——--——--——--🩷--——--——--——--——--—i
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whorekneecentral · 2 months
Note
hiii <3 hope you’re doing well! sorry for the bad english haha
can i request something smut with lewis where you guys are at a dinner with his family and he’s all frisky and touchy so he like takes you to his childhood bedroom and someone just catches you guys in the act
this made me giggle cause I can just imagine the shock on everyone's face // sorry for the million year wait!
Lewis's dad had invited you two over for diner seeing that it was the summer break. You had been in and out of the house, helping him take sure to the grill while Lewis and his brother caught up on their racing.
You hear your boyfriend tell his brother he's gonna grab something from his bedroom that he wanted to show him but forget to show him the last time they were home and off he went.
It had been maybe 20 minutes before you finally settled down with a drink next to your brother in law, Nicolas. "Where's Lew?" You asked him, looking around for your boyfriend.
He shrugs, "I think he's still upstairs, probably got caught up in his stuff, you know how he is." Nicholas says, mid Mario kart match with Willow.
You were off again, going up to check on your boyfriend who was in fact in his childhood bedroom, and reminiscing about god knows what.
"Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Hamilton?" You walked in, shutting the door.
Lewis smiles at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's sir Hamilton."
"Oh excuse me," you huffed, rolling your eyes as you sat on his lap, an arm over his shoulders. "Penny for your thoughts, Sir Hamilton ?"
"Just thinking." He rests his head on you.
"What about?"
"How I've never fucked anyone in here."
You laughed so hard, you snorted. Smacking your boyfriend's arm, you shook your head. "Shut up, that's not what you were thinking about."
"It so was!" He says, flipping you over so you're flat on your back and under him. You giggle, hands on your boyfriend's jaw. "Don't even start," you warn him, knowing what he was thinking.
"Start what?" Lewis asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck. The moment his lips meet your skin, you melt and all cohesive thoughts go out the window.
Your boyfriend's hands move quickly, spreading your legs apart as he drops to his knees in front of you.
"We have dinner in a few minutes." You whisper to him, propping yourself up on your elbows. Lewis shrugs, "I'm grown, I'm allowed to have dessert first," he winked, making you groan.
"Ew- oh." You stop mid sentence, falling back into the mattress. Lewis's tongue is pressed against you, feeling him trace slow figure 8s over your cunt until your legs are shaking.
His hands grip your thighs under your skirt, the two of you too preoccupied to hear the footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the room.
Nicolas opens the door, "dinner is - EW! Sorry!" He shouts, shutting the door.
You're sat up now, fixing your skirt and Lewis is still on the floor, wiping the lower half of his face. "Was that Nic?"
"Yeah," your cheeks are red. "Go say sorry to him." You tell him, Lewis gives you a confused look. "What for?"
"For walking in on us."
"He should have knocked."
"I don't think he was expecting us to be doing that, Lewis."
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94blazed · 9 months
Text
OBSESSION
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PART 1
WC : 8.3K
Genre: smut. fluff. crack. angst.
Rating: M (minors dni)
Warnings: depression. alcohol; consumption. no smut in this part!
Summary: Seven wednesday jungkook. You and Jungkook have been delusional about each other your whole lives, but when Jungkook is off the market, you start to wonder if it was all just one-sided. After the break-up with sohee, you became friends with benefits right after a simple hookup, but when he receives a text from his ex..
a/n: this is a two part series! i couldn’t stop expanding the story :,) - no hate to sohee this is fiction!
TAGLIST : sign up here
You and Jungkook have known each other since the 3rd grade, basically throughout your entire lives, and have always had a connection towards each other. Ever since you were kids, there was always something there, a spark, but no match to ignite it. So it was more of an under the table type of thing, but everyone knew it was obvious.
At age 20, I was enrolled in Seoul University along with Jungkook and the rest of the boys. It was the summer of 2020 and we had gathered around the campfire on the beach, cooking s'mores, admiring the sunset, and playing a few rounds of volleyball while enjoying a few cans of Truly. Everyone was present except for Jungkook, who was the last to arrive with a hinted surprise he had mentioned in the gc. As the drinks flowed, I began to suspect that his surprise was just another bottle of alcohol. However, I'm growing a high confidence from these drinks, I start to prepare myself for this moment mentally and physically. To confess my feelings to him.
Light beams hit our faces as Jungkook finally arrived, and I couldn't contain my excitement. Everyone started dashing towards him, with me being the last to arrive. "Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Sohee, my girlfriend," Jungkook announced. Everyone greeted her as they should, and as a friend, I knew I should do the same. However, my heart sank deeper and deeper as I came into contact with her. It registered that she was now Jungkook's girlfriend and that everything that we had between us was probably one-sided and never meant anything, but I couldn't help but wonder why he never mentioned her before..
⋆ TIME SKIP ( 2 years later / december ‘22 )
After Sohee and Jungkook got together, they would always show up together at the hangouts. Even with the rest of the boys being there, I still felt like a third wheel. "jk's kinda a jerk for leading you on just for him to bring a girl out of nowhere," your best friend Jimin whispers. "Yeah," you sigh. You're honestly happy for them, but to be honest, you're a little jealous.
When we hung out with the boys, we would often sneak off to talk and maybe share a kiss or two, but it never progressed into anything further..
Just talking to him as if we were together made me feel like the world was on pause. Looking up from the ground, I saw them cuddling on the couch, his hands on her waist and hers resting on his chest, their eye contact never breaking. It stung a little, but as a friend, I knew I had to be supportive and had to accept the fact that it was over. "Hey, I'm gonna head out. I'm getting tired," I said. "y/n, stay a little longer. It's barely 11," yoongi replied, glancing at the couple. They didn't even acknowledge your presence. "No, it's okay. I have work in the morning anyway," I said, hearing a collective of "aww's" Jimin spoke up, "I'll walk her down. I'll be right back."
"I'm sorry, y/n," Jimin says, turning around to face you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Jimin, it's not your fault." "I know, but I really thought you two would've ended up together." he pauses. "You know, I've always seen you two sneak off, so I thought you two would have confessed to each other during that time. I would even distract the guys so they wouldn't notice." you smile. "I thought so too, but trust me, chim, I'm happy for them." Jimin throws you a squinted look, making you laugh, as you reach your car, as you say your goodbyes. Jimin embraces you and whispers, "Don't think about it too much. I don't like seeing you like this." grinning, you hug him back tightly, "I won't. Thank you, chim." After letting go, you waved goodbye and made your way home.
⋆ february ‘23
A week after that hangout, Jungkook stopped coming to the hangouts along with Sohee. He slowly stopped responding to the group chat and stopped posting on all his socials. You started thinking that he was just too busy being lovey-dovey with his girlfriend, but your assumption was wrong.
You attempted to contact him multiple times but went straight to voicemail. Frustrated enough you grabbed your keys, hopped in your car, and made your way to his place. Upon arriving, you knocked on his door. only to find that the lights were off, but it was only 9pm? he never goes to bed this early. Banging harder the door finally opened to a messy-haired Jungkook. "What do you wan- y/n?" He was surprised to see you at his doorstep. "What are you doing here?" "I'm here to see what's going on. You don't come to the hangouts, nor do you text or call us?" "I'm sorry." "Yeah, sorry. I love to hear it." "You think this was my choice?" Now you were confused. "What do you mean?" "Sohee. She didn't want me to be around you guys, especially you." You were taken aback a little. "Wait, me?" " I told her about us. She never did things like you did, and comparing you to her must've gotten under her skin." you didn't know Sohee would feel this threatened by you. "Wait, where is she now?" "We broke up a while ago. she took everything of mine, even my phone." You felt bad, really bad, and it kind of pissed you off. "Okay, um, can I come in?" He finally raised his gaze to meet yours, now seeing his face, you noticed how pale he got along with dark circles under his eyes. Which caused you to be concerned for his health. "Have you eaten yet?" "No, the last time was two days ago." Your heart sank, but you couldn't just stand there. "Okay, um, I'll order takeout right now, but let's wash you up first." Grabbing his hand, he followed you like a lost puppy. Looking around, you saw clothes everywhere, smashed dishes on the floor, and cabinet doors flung open. And pretty sure she did take everything.
After finding the bathroom, closing the lid to the toilet you assisted him to sit down. Turning to the tub, you plugged up the drain and turned on the warm water from the faucet. "Okay, can you undress for me and hop in once you're done?, I'll be right back." closing the door, you heard shuffling on the other side, which was a good sign. After placing an order, you helped clean up the mess that was made around the place. placing clothes in the hamper, making the bed, sweeping the glassware off the floor, and putting the dirty clothes in the washer. When completing, you went to check up on jungkook. Knocking on the door, you heard a quiet "come in." Opening the door, you saw him immersed in a bath of bubbles, which you did not recall adding, indicating that he had done so himself.
Sitting on the rim of the bathtub, you stare at his face, head tilted back, eyes shut, messy hair, and that cute little mole beneath his lip that you love so much. You didn't even notice a smile had crept onto your face until he opened his eyes, "What are you smiling about?" realizing that you were caught, you averted your gaze and responded, "Nothing, I just thought the bubbles were cool." There was a long moment of silence before you offered, "Let me wash your hair." dampening his hair a bit, you pumped a few globs of shampoo onto your palm and proceeded to massage it into his hair.
Jungkook let out a sigh of relief, "feels so good," causing your cheeks to tint a light shade of red. After rinsing it off, you continued with the conditioner, and so on. You stepped out for a little while so he could wash himself up. While waiting outside, you heard your name being called. "yeah?" "um, do you think you can wash my back?" burning up, you cooled yourself down a little before entering. returning to the rim of the tub, you took the sponge and gently applied it to his back.
While scrubbing, he spoke, "thank you, and I truly mean it. thank you." pausing, you resumed scrubbing. "That's what friends are for, Jungkook." he fully turned around this time, making eye contact with you. "No, I actually mean it y/n. thank you. To be quite honest, you were the last person I thought I would see." "Kook, after everything, I still care about you. Yeah, what happened between us was nothing, just a little fling. You didn't hurt me like you think you did. I completely understand." ( yeah right ). "Honestly though, I mean it. I owe you. a big one" You both held contact in silence, the world pausing yet again; both flicking your eyes at each other's lips, making sure the other wouldn't notice. "Can I kiss you?" you were taken by surprise, but after all this time, you couldn't miss this opportunity. Smiling, you leaned in closer, hand dipping to the bottom of the tub for support, eyes never breaking contact. You were an inch away before you answered, "yes."
Jungkook finally breaks a smile as he takes his damp thumb, tilting your chin to adjust to his angle. You deepen the kiss, not holding back as you slip your tongue through his parted lips, which he gladly accepts. Playing with his lip ring earns you a small bite to your tongue, making you want to play with his tongue instead.
You guys lasted a while in the bathroom, having an intense make-out session, but like before, it didn't lead up into anything. After helping him out of the tub, providing him with a towel. You left him to get dressed while you unclogged the drain, allowing the water to flow along with the rest of the bubbles down the drain.
After eating the takeout you ordered, you guys watched movies together on the sofa, but it was 2 in the morning, and you couldn't stay here all night, so you had to say your goodbyes. Looking over, you noticed that jungkook had fallen asleep. Cracking a smile, you get up and plant a kiss on the top of his head, but as you reach for your keys, he grasps your wrist. "stay, just for tonight." Breaking into a smile, you agreed. and let me just say, it wasn't the only night.
⋆ TIME SKIP / april ‘23
Ever since that night, you two have been fwb. slowly but surely, you started bringing him back into the group. He seems more lively now than he was when you first found him.
Like today, you both came back from the group to hang out, to spend time, just the two of you. ordered pizza, watched movies, and just enjoying each other's presence.
until now, jungkook received a notification.
- unknown: Do you like her?
- JK: who is this?
- unknown: Sohee.
- sohee: Y/N, do you like her?
- JK: why are you asking me this?
- sohee: because I still want us.
to be continued…
a/n: i hope you enjoyed part 1 even though it’s on a cliffhanger 😭 but i’ll be posting part 2 this week !
taglist : @jjklves @ane102 @moonbinniehappy @caro134340lina @bbtsficrecs @ahsluv @tatamicc @heartjiminie @ta3bae @ahsluva @starbrightday
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Text
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑈𝑠, 𝑈𝑠
A/N: I'll be completely honest, I don't know what I have written... But it's wholesome( i think) and cute. Curse me and my inability to write something short.
Prompts Used: I'll stay for as long as you need from this, do you think we'll be in love forever from this.
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Summers in the Burrow was absolute trash.
Now it wasn't because Charlie didn't like to come back home and perhaps finally rest a bit. He actually liked being back home, especially with you now that you two were finally dating, he often took you out with him for hours after you stashed food in your back, knowing you two would be gone for a long time doing...
Snogging? Making-out? Flying?
It all depended on the mood.
All in all, he loved his family, he loved you, and he loved how well you fit with his family and love them as your own, they loved you in exchange just as much, and loved being back home even if it meant the teasings of his brother Bill who was the one witnessing his puppy love to you would increase with their other siblings' help.
But sometimes, the teasing was just... too much. And the fact that you also took after his family didn't help.
His own lover was against him, and they obviously loved making him go all red!
As if it was hard to begin with...
"It seems you are so smitten by me that you always talk about me to your family, Charlie~" you teased your boyfriend lightly as your hand wrapped around his, squeezing three times to silently say I love you, even though you were just making fun of him for talking about you a lot to his family, as he looked at you with burning cheeks and a soft smile.
"No? Where did you get it from?" He tried to hide his rants about you in a cool manner, to save himself from the teasing he would face even though he would melt as soon as you started planting kisses on his cheek, but ultimately failed when Bill and his dad, who adored you already, stumbled into the living room and beamed visibly at the sight of you sitting with his son.
"Y/N! It's lovely to see you, dear! How are you?" Arthur immediately pushed his two eldest sons aside and came to hug you, landing kisses on each of your cheeks as he proudly looked at you. Even to this day, after almost four years of being Charlie's friend and two years of dating him, you never quite got used to the way they always welcomed you warmly.
Molly hugging you, smelling like those cookies she always made. Arthur's warm hugs as he pulled you to his artefact room to show all the new cool muggle things he found, Fred and George telling you the newest pranks they thought about, playing wizard chess with Percy, making Ginny's hair in different styles and teaching them to her as she did your make-up, telling Ron about the latest school drama...
Sometimes, with all their flaws and all, you even thought that they actually loved you more than their own sons.
"Yeah, there goes our privilege as soon as they see their daughter..." Bill groaned as he rubbed his arm to soothe the pain of his greatest betrayal, done by none other than his father. Still, Bill was someone who always found a way to tease you or mostly Charlie and this time wasn't any different as he saw how you both smiled shyly, quite cute in his eyes, as you both stumbled over your words, blushing madly.
"I-I'm not their daughter Bill, I think you are-"
"Yet, my friend, yet."
"Bill, stop teasing..." Charlie gritted out, hoping it was enough to make him back off but instead Bill laughed and merely brushed it off.
"You look like a squirrel when you are angry, Charlie~ Besides, by the amount of adoring talk you had been doing since your second year at Hogwarts, I thought you would have already used a promise ring type of commitment!"
Charlie's face was a tomato at this point, even his neck and probably his chest was all red from the embrassment he felt. He always told you that it was a bad idea to spend the summer with his family, solely for the reason that he knew they wouldn't stop teasing him, and often suggested the idea of spending it in Hogwarts, alone, with you in a flirty way.
In which you always replied, I don't want to be on the receiving end of one of Molly's angry Howlers, Charlie... We have to go, besides, what's the worst that could happen? They love me!
But, that was the point.
They loved you so much, even more than possibly their own children!
And they wouldn't dare to tease you, no.
They took greater satisfication from doing that to him. Especially since he accidently let it slip that he wanted to marry you after graduation.
"What? Don't tell me... Holy shit, you never told them about your affinity with them since the day school started?!" Bill dramatically screeched with a hand over his chest at his brother's state, Percy rolling his eyes at the three of you as you tilted your head confused.
"Wait... Really? He had been talking about me?"
"Of course! I don't think he stopped doing it even after you two started dating! If not, it increased even more!" Percy yelled from the other room, making Charlie look there angrily, not aware of the soft and loving eyes you were sending to his way.
"Yes, I remember him talking about you at every breakfast, so much so that both me and Molly knew what flower you liked and memorized your schedule!" Arthur added with a happy nod from the kitchen as he helped Molly with the plates. Charlie turned his head so swiftly that you were worried he hurt his neck as he was left staring with a gaped mouth at his father.
"Dad!"
"Oh, yes, I remember now! I wasn't very pleased to hear that Y/N thought gnomes were cute... but she accepted they could be dreadful too!" Molly came from the kitchen as she gave you her famous pancakes with a smile and affectionate pat on your head as her eyes found Arthur's playfully.
"I still remember how your dad came bursting in, yelling that he finally found someone who shared his fascination with Muggle world and even gave him a record player."
"I'm gonna go and de-gnome the garden, maybe that will-" Charlie suddenly got up and turned towards the door to get out and probably cool his flaming face, while you giggled uncontrollably alongside Ginny who was having the best time of her life at her brother's misery.
"We can send your precious, curse-breaking lover if you want!" A yell came from the other room.
"Fred!" Charlie turned angrily to scold his brother when he saw the disappointed eyes of his brother.
"I'm not Fred, seriously first mum and now you, Charlie?" George, actually Fred, came from the other room, looking sad and half-angry.
Which was all a ploy, and even you knew it at this point.
But Charlie never was able to tell which twin was which one, and this was no different. He huffed out angrily as he muttered a whatever, and walked right towards the garden as you and twins looked after him with straight eyes and then slowly smirked.
"You are never gonna get tired of tricking him, right?" You threw your head back on the couch and looked at the twins with a cheeky smile as they laughed and shook their heads.
"Never~"
"So... You know we," Fred pointed to all the other Weasley siblings, except Bill and Charlie, to a pouting Ginny and Ron, who were doing their best to use their puppy eyes. " are here for a reason, and that is-"
"To hear more of my adventures in any kind so that you could find a humiliating moment to tease Charlie later?" You quirked an eyebrow curiously as they all stared at you in wonder.
"That's why she is the best older sister possible..." Ron and Ginny exclaimed with amazement with breathless sighs, making you laugh as Fred and George nodded their heads impressed.
"She is finally a true Weasley. Understanding what we exactly want is of high value."
" Suck it up, guys, you made it very obvious! Besides, Charlie won't be happy about this!"
"Then why are you bringing snacks?" Percy stopped while bending over the table in the living room under everyone's curious and amused stares, mumbling to himself as he flushed.
"Because... I want to hear them too."
"Hell yeah, that's my brother! Now, Y/N, you have no other choice than telling us!" Fred exclaimed as he threw a proud arm around Percy's shoulder and ushered everyone to sit down so that you could finally start. You looked at all the kids sitting down in front of you, waiting for you to start with excited eyes. Seeing them so eager, even though it wasn't unusual for them whenever you came to the Burrow, and they had other motives, made you crack a smile and nod.
You could actually give what they want to them with this story, and watch as Charlie suffers from their hands on your behalf.
"Now, where should I begin... Perhaps the accident with Squawk is a good one."
Squawk was on loose, the reputation of the Dragon Club was at stake and there was no way you could find that little rascal in time.
Without help.
"I want Squawk back in our care just as much as you do, Y/N! I'll help you find him, you don't have to worry when you have me!"
As soon as the last part left his lips, Charlie already slapped his forehead mentally when he met Liz's questioning and "are you serious?" look. He couldn't help how he felt or what he did, especially when his crush came to ask for his help. He had been watching you as discreetly as possible, throwing himself in to help you whenever you ask and he always sat with you at lunch and cracked jokes in hopes that you would smile.
You did, every time, because how could you not? He was being extremely cute and adorable!
But to Liz, and pretty much every single one of your friends, all these longing stares and shy smiles was becoming a lot harder to bear.
"Hate to break the cute moment, but we have a mission to finish and an Incendio to cast! Pump the love brakes and do it now Y/N~"
Actually remembering where you were and with who you were, you flushed but did it anyways and set the fake eggs on fire to lure Squawk to where you three were waiting.
And soon, he showed up and circled around the eggs protectively, making all three of you to cheer.
"Nice one, mate!" Liz's eyes were as wide as saucers when the word mate left Charlie and he was left freaked out with his hand still up in the air.
No... No, I didn't just call my crush "mate"...
Your eyes were also wide open at what he said, but you tried not to show how it made you disappointed as you smiled and let out a hey, which didn't really had the usual hype.
Mate... That's all he is ever going to see me as.
But amongst that chaos and freaking out, and Charlie's yell, Squawk was already gone, having flought away in fright.
Charlie, since he was kind of the reason Squawk got away, had a sheepish yet half-horrified look on his face as he looked at you, expecting anything except the kind and happy smile you had given him.
"W-what... Are you not angry at me?"
"No? Why would I be?" You tilted your head with a small smile as Charlie gulped nervously.
Oops, you were actually angry but... somehow, it felt like it wasn't about this accident?
"Because Squawk is... gone?"
You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. It was no use for you to hold grudge against him just because he called you his mate and you had to fall for him. "It's like you said, Charlie. As long as I have you, I have nothing to worry about... Besides I'm confident in where he might have flied off..."
The rest of your sentence was a blur as Charlie widened his eyes and his heart literally stopped at what you said. Yes, he was the one who actually said it but to hear your crush also agree on it...
You just said the sweetest thing possible to him and he... called you his mate.
Tonk was his mate, not you! What the hell was wrong with him?!
"It's rather sweet what you said about Charlie, Y/N but one, stop being all lovey-dovey since some of us are single," she walked away while groaning, leaving you two behind blushing madly as she soon turned back and looked over at her shoulder with a cheeky smile.
"And two, please have a date already after we catch Squawk. I have a bet going on with Andre and I intend to win it, if possible." With that, she left you two to yourself and went inside as you looked at Charlie nervously for him to say something, anything.
And even if his heart threatened to get out of his chest at how close you two were, he smiled and looked into your eyes that reflected all of your emotions.
And it made him blush even more, when he found the clear adoration in there.
"Should we get started then?" He extended his hand out shakily and smiled when you grabbed it thightly and made him run after you with a happy laugh, thinking to yourself as you both ran.
Unaware of how he was watching your hair dance in the wind.
He is lucky he is cute, or else I wouldn't be running after him...
Everyone was left shocked at how stupidly oblivious their older brother, whom they all loved and even idolized, could be. A silence settled after you finished the story and you anxiously looked at them since... they were just looking at you with open mouths, even Percy wasn't saying anything except gulping down the chips he was eating.
But soon, Ginny's screech cut the silence perfectly.
"Wait... MY BROTHER REALLY CALLED YOU 'MATE'?! Ughhh, boys are so stupid..." she rested her back against the table with a hmph, crossing her arms in front of her chest angrily. If the situation wasn't comedic, you could have pinched her cheeks and agree with her, even if you were dating that oblivious and stupid boy that was her brother.
"How many boys have you ever seen, Ginny?" Ron pushed her shoulder, in a way quite offended as she sticked her tongue out.
"I live with 6 of them, I think it's enough!"
"Pretending that our sister didn't just roast all of us," George pointedly said as he slowly pushed the two youngests away with a sheepish look, and looked at you with a smirk.
"Our brother really called his crush 'mate' huh? Interesting..." he rubbed his chin as if he had a long beard which made you snort and nod at him.
They were so going to use this against him.
"Yeah, he did. And according to our friends, he banged his head at every possible surface whenever he remembered that but... it was kind of cute, how he lost track of what he says around me." You cutely said, a stupid smile over your face as the boys made a disgusted face while Ginny let out an awe. You slapped the back of their heads softly as you snickered. "Don't make that face now! I will see you when you fall in love~"
"Wait, wait! Was there a confession? Was it romantic or stupid as he first acted with you?" Ginny suddenly asked excitedly, bouncing up and down with a wide smile as she hugged her legs closer to herself, waiting for your answer.
"Ughh girls and their obsession over romance..." Ron groaned, making a face as if he was disgusted but you knew deep down that he was also into them, especially the one you had with his brother.
He would rather die than accept it though.
"Well, there definetly was some, Ginny. But... At first it was just us complaining about the other to our best friends."
Your chest felt heavy remembering Rowan, how you two used to stay up late while giggling to yourselves. It was mostly them, making fun of you as you blushed and hid yourself under your pillow after you confessed your crush to them.
But what are best friends for? Making fun of you when you need their help, and then offer their biggest one.
"I don't even know what's going anymore, Rowan! I just can't get Charlie out of my mind, every time I look at him, my stomach feels weird, I start to sweat and my heart feels like it's gonna burst out and scream... That bitch and him making me feel like that."
Rowan giggled as she patted your back while you vented, offering their comfort while you laid over their lap. You were trully sick, sick of feeling like this, because deep down, you knew the reason.
You knew why it all happened around Charlie but refused to acknowledge them.
There was a difference between knowing and accepting it, right?
"And... And as if it's not enough, I saw him half-naked!" Rowan choked on the air as they looked down at you in fright.
"You didn't start big, right?!"
"What the hell?! No, of course not! Look at me Rowan! Do you see me as that kind of person? If I was, I wouldn't be patheatically venting to my best friend!"
You got up from their lap as Rowan nodded, saying a fair point, and watched you plop down sadly before you crawled next to them and put your head on their shoulder. Rowan knew what was exactly coming and sighed as they pulled one of the napkin from their nightsand and offered it to you with an "are you serious?" look.
"He was... just so hot, Rowan."
" I know, it's normal for you to say that."
"I can't believe I fell for a dragon boy, whose only interest would be them."
Now that got their attention. Because, there was no way in hell you didn't realize the obvious favouritism he had for you... Right?
But by the patheatic pouting on your face, yes you didn't realize a thing.
"You really don't realize, do you?" They chuckled amused as they pat your head while they fixed their glasses. You lifted your head curiously and frowned at their question. "Realize what?"
"Charlie literally only talks to you about his favourite things, you included, and you listen to him talk for hours about dragons. He gives you the Snitch whenever he catches it when you come to his matches, which is usually always, and even gave you his sweater when you were cold... THE Weasley sweater, if I may add. Everyone knows he and Bill cares about it a lot, Charlie more than Bill."
As they talked, every single interaction passed through your eyes.
Even the ones no one really knew about.
The picnics near the Black Lake, hanging out after curfew, exploring the castle together...
Watching the stars together as you rambled about them, not realizing how close you two were suddenly. His wood and pine smell, a result of him always hanging out in the forest, suddenly filling your insides as your flowery yet quite light and neutral smell dazed Charlie and made him lean down closer to your lips... Them being apart by just mere inches as you both felt the other's breath, a craving, a lust and want so deep that it made you both almost tumble down and dive deep in the feelings...
You were down bad.
"And then he falls asleep on you, you fall asleep on him, you read to him, you always bring something for him from back home and he blushes every time you do that, he brings you his mother's cookies that she made for you, under his request and begs... Friends to lovers trope at its best really."
"Rowan..."
"Hmm?" They turned their head to you after they stopped listing everything, hearing your disturbed and anxious voice brought them back to the moment and- Holy shit, were you scared?
"Y/N? Are you oka-"
"I'm in love with Charlie." You said breathless but it seemed Rowan didn't quite catch the heavy meaning of your words.
"Oh well, congrats for realiz- Wait, not even like?! Like love love?
A shy nod of confirmation, and then a happy squeal.
"Oh My Merlin, I'm so happy for you! Now, you just need to say it to him-and no trust me, he feels the same, if not even more! There is no giving up for us now!"
"Then of course, he confessed to me... After making me cry because I had a crush on him-" you shrugged your shoulders noncholantly after you told them how you came to conclusion that you loved Charlie, and at that point, they were all so invested in your story that they didn't realize their brother standing at the corner and watching, listening to them with both a stupid and sorry look.
A/N: You may read my other work "First Date Shenanigans" for some referances.
Until that is, Fred understood the end of your sentence first and an angry scowl came to his face, making him look scarier.
"HE MADE YOU CRY?! THAT FRICKING TWAT, PERCY BRING THE BAT-"
"ON IT!"
"NO, FRED, DON'T-It was a misunderstanding!" You stopped them hurriedly as Percy immediately stood up and almost made a run for it, both young boys looking at you with wide eyes as they slowly blinked.
"What? How could there be a misunderstanding?"
"I wasn't very open with who my crush was," you shyly smiled and helped them sit back down, chuckling at their cuteness and how protective they were of you.
It made you feel... like a part of the family.
"Since everyone was suddenly so interested in my love life, which was a result of them knowing your brother's big crush on me, I never told anything about who he was."
"Yeah, we remember that Snape Accident... Douchebag."
"Ginevra Weasley, language!" Both you and her giggled as he came closer to you and laid her head on your thigh, your hand finding her ginger hair as you slowly started making a little braid.
"Soooo... What did he do when he learnt you had a crush on 'someone else'?" Ron emphasised pointedly with his fingers and waited for an answer, with a look he hoped that didn't give his big curiosity.
"Well, before that happened, he literally offered to duel me to take my mind off things... Now, I'm thinking that he did it for himself."
"Look, I know we will chat, but what will we chat about? What if we run out of things to say? What if we can't find something to talk about?" You anxiously looked at Charlie and Tonks, who was there to help you out with your date and couldn't help but get even more nervous after Tonks asked what you would do with him.
You never thought about that one.
What were you supposed to talk with Charlie, who was unaware that he was helping you with your crush who was actually him, so that you wouldn't ridicule yourself?
That is, if he accepted of course... Which was a low chance.
Seeing you spiralling into anxiety made Charlie sighed annoyed at his friend and turned to her with a pointed look. "See what you did, Tonks? Asking all those questions..."
" What? I was trying to help!" He shook his head at her innocent exclaim and gripped the bridge of his nose.
"Don't let your nerves get to you, love. Fight them off by... I don't know... Duelling one of us?" Charlie was already having a hard time looking at you, knowing that you liked someone else and was wondering what to do for a boy that definetly didn't deserve you, your love and attention at all.
Should he come after you to see the boy and later jinx him? Perhaps not... But he wanted to.
"That... would be good, Charlie. I'd like to duel you though, if you are not scared~" you teased him softly as your heart skipped a beat at his surprised wide eyes.
But unknown to you, Charlie was grateful that you didn't have any powers such as super hearing.
"Okay... But I won't make it easy..." he winked and looked at you through his lashes, possibly looking at you like that for the last time. He hoped he didn't look stupid, since Bill told him that flirting was definetly not his strongest feature, but by the snicker of Tonks...
Yes, he made himself a stupid.
"I think he went easy on me..." was what left your mouth after the session ended, rubbing your neck awkwardly but feeling refreshed. Charlie looked at you fondly for a second as he chuckled at your pouting face, shaking his head.
"No, I didn't..."
It wasn't that he would rather take Crucio than to see you get hurt...
"Yes, you did! I watched the whole time!" Tonk exclaimed cheekily with wiggling her brows as Charlie pushed her away from himself, already feeling himself blush again.
"%90 per cent of the time he was with you, it seems our brother only blushed..." Ron mumbled disappointedly, wondering how a boy like him could be rendered to a blushing, shy mess.
"MY BROTHER WAS SHY?! CHARLIE?! Are we talking about the same boy who reeks confidence in almost everything he does?"
"Well, Ginny darling, whether you believe it or not, he was really shy and couldn't look into my eyes after our first kiss. It even made me feel bad as if I pushed him but... Later I learnt why!"
"Then why was it?"
"You would know when you grow up..."
You couldn't just tell them that their brother thought about snogging you every chance he gets, from the moment he kissed you.
It would taint their precious innocence... Though you were starting to think that there was none.
"Just know that he turned it around very soon, and he was the confident boy he was in a few days."
Before you two dated, Charlie's hand always itched as if he wanted to touch you. And he did, he wanted that more than anything. Talking to you, praising you or even touching your hand simply seemed hard for him.
But as soon as you accepted him, all the things he wanted to do with you was easy. He kissed your cheek every day, called you his lover without a care, he touched you and hugged you freely as his longing finally was erased.
So, in short, a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders.
Even though you were the one who stopped them in the end.
He would always kiss you in front of people, not afraid of showing his love( definetly not because he knew some certain people liked you) and he would say, "What a good way to start my morning..." breathless as he stared at you with soft and loving eyes. He didn't care much about public attention or what others would say that much anyways.
To him, showing you his love was the least of the things he could do.
Especially when you never made him feel like an oddball, defended him even when he wasn't there, whenever he came to you to get help treating his injuries, you slept with him, cuddled with him, always beamed at him at the first sight of him walking to you, supported his dreams just as he always supported you and loved him unconditionally.
But he couldn't lie... All his affections were also to see your blushing face and embrassed face as you tried to look at anything but him, especially in the early days.
Remembering all the happy times you had with him, and all the times you had to get treat his wound after one of his "funny adventures" made you giddy all so suddenly. Because they were real, you weren't dreaming about them again, you actually went with it and was now currently sitting with his family, bonding together to prepare the biggest achievement of your life: Get back at Charlie for all the times he teased you restlessly.
But... Why not add Bill into this as well? He also took great happiness from watching it.
"But Charlie wasn't the only one I had power over. There were even days I made Bill do what I want him to do!"
"Really? Our brother? Like what?" Now all of their heads were turned to you, their eyes wide with excitement as the same cheeky smile before pulled up your lips.
"Yes, such as putting up decorations, preparing the Great Hall for the Celestial Ball and help me find a-"
"HE HELPED WITH THE CELESTIAL BALL?!"
"You are a natural leader, Bill, and I'm tiny compared to you. Inexperienced too. In many ways actually. So, as the good senior you are, I think you should help this cute friend of yours~"
"Okay, fine... Don't think you can rope me to hang the decorations though. I'll help you, and my job will be done."
Spoiler alert, it actually wasn't the end of his job.
"But even if he was the one who often helped us around with our problems, I would like to think that I too helped him on some ways.
Such as the time he stood up to Emily Tyler in the Ball.
"I realized I made a mistake...Would you like to give us another chance, Bill?"
Please say no, please say no, you are not that stupid Bill...
" Emily..." Bill said as he walked closer to her and stood before her, her batting lashes at him as he looked down at her. Meanwhile you were behind him, a mouth hang open in shock. Out of all the ways you wanted him to man up and face her, this wasn't what you planned.
"No way in the fucking hell..."
" Even if you were the last witch on the world, it wouldn't happen. You have been too rude to my friends, my best friend, and my brother and to me."
"Okay, that was impressive really..."
Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother and pushed them away, turning to you with her wide eyes as she wanted to hear the "love part" of your story with her brother.
"Was there a time Charlie saved you? From anyone?"
"Hmm... He often protected and defended me against Merula-"
"Oh, that bitch-"
"GEORGE WEASLEY!"
I swear Molly somehow always hear us... Maybe it's mum ears?
"Hello, Charlie! What are you doing here? It's not the class time yet?" He turned to look at you in surprise as his hands clasped behind his back and he greeted you back, perhaps a little bit more enthusiastic than he wanted.
"You know me, love, when I'm not playing Quidditch or bickering with Bill, I'm out exploring... And I can ask you the same, what are you doing here?" Your heart fluttered at the term of endearment he used, flushing a bit as you giggled at him. He leant over the boxes that held food for the creatures, trying to be all cool but he was anything but "cool".
Because, today would be the day, he was so sure of it! He would ask you out on a date, ace it with flying colors and finally have you to himself, all to love and kiss!
" If it isn't the two losers of Hogwarts..."
But not all plans went according to plan.
Charlie, hearing Merula's venomous voice, pulled you behind him as he stood before her, blocking you from her. He knew how you can kick asses, you did on him many times, and he also knew you always won against Merula and she was angry about that too. Merula, contrary to popular belief, wasn't that bad.
She was bad just... Not that much.
But still, he couldn't let her either do something to you or ruin his day by stopping him from asking you out.
" What do you want Merula?"
"Why do you even care, Charlie? I thought she hated me? She probably came here to insult me again."
"You're right. I don't care what you think most of the time, Y/L/N." At her usual snarky comment, you just rolled your eyes at her and turned to look at Charlie. Your eyes widened at how thight his jaw was and how his eyes could actually throw fire at her if that was possible, and a sudden burst of love and want threatened you to turn into a puddle at his protective side.
" I don't want to argue with you right now, Merula... Let's go somewhere else Charlie."
Suddenly, as if your words lightened a bulb in her mind, Merula gripped your wrist thightly, making you slightly wince as you turned around with angry eyes. "Where do you think you are going when you are talking to me?"
"The hell is your problem? Get the hell away from them!" Charlie pushed Merula away from you, making her stumble back in shock at seeing the Charlie Weasley who was ever the kind boy turn aggressive when someone threatened... you.
She chuckled at noticing what everyone has been talking about for the past few months.
Charlie Weasley was never like this, never raised a hand, never used his wand to fight another student....
Maybe, she could change that.
"Oh, Charlie Weasley, the shadow of his brother coming to rescue the day... It must be hard going to Hogwarts at the same time as your older brother... Watching him take over the stage, always be the talk,"
He scoffed at her obvious attempt of setting him off, but Charlie knew her and he wasn't about to get into her trap.
Her sharp eyes soon turned to you with a smirk. "Not that Y/L/N would know anything about that. Their brother is missing, probably dead."
But bringing you into this? That was her first mistake.
And also the biggest one.
Her words hurt, remembering all the suffering you had beared, all the while having to hear all the insults people threw at your dear brother...
But you couldn't show her that her words affected you, you just... couldn't.
But Charlie? Oh, hell no... He was going to make her pay for what she said, for hurting you.
"You never quit, do you, Merula? Why are you so angry at them after all these years anyways? Why are you still lashing out at someone who never did something?"
"If you are really the best witch at Hogwarts, why do you feel threatened by them? Why worry about what they are doing?"
Merula was shocked at the amount of anger Charlie had put in his words, backing her until she was far away from where you were. You were stuck on where you were for a second, your mind being unable to catch up to what was happening. But as soon as you did, you ran after Charlie and grabbed his arm to stop him.
"Charlie, it's not worth it. Let go-"
"Careful with the words, Weasley or else-"
"You, be careful with your words, Merula. I won't have you insulting my... friend. Don't get me started on your family issues if you want?"
Telling all of your story to them had been fun, it certainly made you appreciate your time with him and then his family. They were all eagerly listening while Molly and Arthur stayed behind and watched their kids silently listen to you, obediently, without making a voice or doing anything.
"We need to make them come over more often." said Molly with jolly yet slightly tearful eyes. Seeing her kids so happy and well made her emotional, just like it would do to many mothers.
Arthur hugged her closer and nodded, definetly not having any problems with you being around more. "I agree, dear. They fit in well... And I'll have a new artefact in my hands soon, I'm sure they will like it!"
In the end, after everyone was finally gathered around the living room, you seated yourself next to Charlie and hugged his arm closer to yourself, your chin on his shoulder as his warmth almost lulled you to sleep. He was dead tired, and also flustered from earlier. Apart from de-gnoming the whole garden with Bill, he came inside to look for you and how you were doing since you were so anxious before coming here.
But instead was met with you telling your story to his siblings with clear adoration and even he stayed to listen to you and your captivating voice as his heart swelled with love and pride.
"I loved listening to you talk about us... to my siblings. It was lovely." He muttered softly to you, not caring if his family heard him or not.
"Even if they use it against you?" You mumbled into his shoulder sleepily, lifting your head slowly to look at his shining eyes. He chuckled at seeing your usual teasing eyes even if you were tired after talking all day.
He knew his siblings after all, they must have asked a lot of questions.
"Yeah, even if they do that... It made me reminisce about the past years, and seeing you so cozy and happy with them... I just feel so happy, so lucky to have you." He brought a finger to your cheek as he slowly rubbed it, smiling when you nuzzled closer to him.
Normally, it wasn't like him to be so carefree with PDA but right now, he really didn't care. He might feel insecure from time to time, which happened seldomly, but as he sat with you next to him, thighs touching each other as your hand clutched his arm thightly, he knew he had nothing to worry about.
Even if he was blushing and his heart pounded at your sleepy face.
Because he never thought he would actually fall in love, he never thought his life would go to that part. He never imagined himself with a partner, going all the adventures with them. All his life, he thought he would stay single and had to tolerate his mother complain about his choice and beg him to find a partner.
But now?
He had his person, the one for him right between his arms.
"Do you think we will be in love forever?"
"I'll stay for as long as you need, Charlie... Being there and loving you."
And if that didn't prove his point, his previous talk with Bill in the garden and her mother bringing the famous "Weasley Sweater" did.
His mother didn't knit one for everyone after all.
"About my comment earlier... How did the ring shopping go?"
"Surprisingly well, brother... I think I found the ring." He pat his pocket two times to show his point and Bill smiled in a brotherly way and hugged him thightly, proudly.
In two years, there would be another addition to the huge Weasley family.
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valeskafics · 10 months
Text
Mamma Mia - Chapter One: Honey, Honey (Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Modern AU)
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A/N: hope you guys enjoy this, i'm so excited to share it with you all! comment to be added to the taglist ❤️
Summary: Curious about who her father is, your ten year old daughter, Laena, does a little digging into your past.
PAIRINGS: Aemond x Reader, Past Aegon x Reader, Past Jace x Reader
Word Count: 2,010
TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of the Dragon/Fire and Blood characters nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️
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You probably should’ve known something is amiss the minute you went up to the attic and found your old trunk opened up and rummaged through. Your daughter, Laena, is at the age where she wants to know what you were like when you were young. You always feign offense and remind her that 29 is, in fact, quite young, but being ten years old, she refuses to listen. Your daughter is your entire life, and even if you had her young, you have no regrets. She is the apple of your eye and you strive to do everything possible to make her happy. You shake your head and call out to her that she needs to be showered and ready for you to take her to school in the next ten minutes.
Laena is still under the covers in her room, holding a flashlight, reading through your diary, the one you kept the year you were pregnant with her. It would seem that after graduating from Sunspear High School, you went off backpacking with your two best friends, her Aunts Baela and Sara, first to Starfall, onto Oldtown, Highgarden, and then Finally King’s Landing. It was there you took a boat to Dragonstone Island, which was yet undeveloped. The three of you found an abandoned farmstead where you set up camp, and that? That was where everything changed. It would seem, early in the summer, you fell in love.
June 29th. Today, I met the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my entire life! His name is Aemond Targaryen and I think I’m halfway in love with him already. He’s four years older than me - he just graduated from the Citadel University. He’s tall, blond, and so handsome. He has this scar across his left eye that makes him look like he belongs on the cover of some cheesy romance novel. He’s insecure about it, but gods, he shouldn’t be. He’s been here a little longer than I have, so he offered to show me around the island. I can’t wait!
July 1st. I’ve spent the last few days just hanging out non stop with Aemond. He’s smart and funny and so easy to talk to. And today, he kissed me. I can really see something happening between us. Something amazing!
July 17th. What a night! Aemond rowed me over to a little island off the coast of Dragonstone. We danced on the beach, we kissed on the beach, we made love on the beach…
“Gross,” Laena gags before continuing to read.
Aemond’s the one! I know he is. I’ve never felt like this before. He’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and gods, when he took his shirt off to row, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man that gorgeous in my entire life!
July 20th. Aemond told me he loves me for the first time. He said he’s known for a long time now, but he’s been too afraid to say it, and I told him I love him too. I’ve never felt like this in my entire life. We went swimming in the ocean together and…
You’ve never told Laena who her father is, and so, at first, she gets excited, thinking that this Aemond person is her long lost dad, wondering what happened between the two of you to cause you to part. Well, that is until she continues reading.
July 31st. All this time, Aemond has been telling me he loves me, and now he’s announced that he’s engaged, so he’s gone home to get married and I’m never going to see him again. I can’t believe things have turned out like this. I don’t know what to do.
Laena gasps, feeling her heart break for you, immediately hoping that this Aemond jerk face isn’t her father. She thinks he could use a good smack across the face. She shakes her head and continues reading, a scowl marring her adorable face.
August 4th. What a night! Aegon rented a motorboat and I took him over to the little island. Though I’m still obsessed with Aemond, Aegon’s so wild, he’s such a funny guy. One thing led to another and…
“Seven Hells, Mom, good for you,” Laena’s eyes go wide with shock as she continues reading.
August 11th. Jace turned up out of the blue, so I said I’d show him the island. He’s so sweet and understanding, I couldn’t help it and…
“Oh my gods, Mom,” Laena slaps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing and alerting you to exactly what she’s doing.
The realization hits her that she has three potential people who can be her dad. She smirks to herself, grabbing three sheets of paper, three envelopes, and a sheet of stamps that she’s kept stashed in her drawer for this very occasion before running off to get ready for her last day of school. She’s going to have a very productive day in the computer lab unbeknownst to you.
While Laena is at school, you head back home, well, not exactly home. You’ve turned the old farmstead you once stayed in that summer so long ago into a beautiful hotel. It’s taken a lot of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, but it’s relatively successful in the summer months as well as winter vacation time. You love your life here. You’re content caring for your daughter and running the resort.
Who are you kidding? The place is practically falling apart. You groan, flopping down onto the sofa, glancing at your trunk. You walk over to it, running your fingers across the leather and smile to yourself, remembering everything that happened your first summer here. Singing with Baela and Sara. And… All the rest. You shake your head and tie your hair back, walking out front to get started on some of the day’s repairs.
Meanwhile, a certain little Miss Laena is sending three invitations to her birthday party in two weeks time, a cheeky grin on her face after a quick Google search and finding that the names “Aemond”, “Aegon”, and “Jacaerys” are not nearly as common as one might think.
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Two weeks later, you stand at the docks near Dragonstone Beach, waiting for your best friends, Baela and Sara to disembark from their boat. When they do, you shriek and run up to them, embracing them tightly. The three of you nearly fall off the dock into the water at the sheer force with which you hurled yourself at them, but it only serves to make you laugh even harder.
You remember with great fondness the little singing gig the three of you had on the island all those years ago, the Dragonettes, doing fun little song and dance numbers every night for the residents and visitors. Everyone adored the three of you and, before you knew you were pregnant, you even played some shows on the mainland together, earning a pretty decent cult following. 
You notice Sara’s brother, Cregan, has joined as well and you immediately pull the man into a hug as well. Cregan is fresh off a break up with his sort of fiancee Johnny Umber. You decide that you’re going to make it your mission to find someone for your friend’s brother, whether it’s the last thing you do.
“So B is onto husband number three,” Sara tells you with no little amount of glee as the four of you drive back toward the hotel, “Amazing. Her dad is onto wife number three now so I guess it all runs in the family.”
You all burst into laughter while Baela defends herself, “Hey, I’m a Daddy’s girl, I don’t know what to tell you. We can’t all be like Miss Sara here, little lone wolf.”
Cregan and Sara exchange grins before howling like the wolves they are, earning another round of laughter from everyone in the car.
When you get to the hotel, you smile as Laena runs up to hug her uncle and aunts, proudly proclaiming to them that she’s now in the double digits and practically a full grown adult. Baela, Sara, and Cregan fawn over her, telling her how adorable and grown up she looks in her blue dress. You lead your friends to their guest rooms, explaining to them how things are in a sort of state of… Disrepair. You hate the pitying gazes they give you.
“Have you considered getting a sugar daddy-”
“B, I’m 29 years old and I have a child,” you scoff, “What kind of sugar daddy wants a sugar baby who has an actual baby?!” you quickly shriek at Cregan as he’s about to sit down on one of the chairs, “Don’t sit on that, it’s broken!”
He jumps to his feet, wincing slightly, “Sorry, sorry, my bad.”
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Meanwhile, at the Blackwater Bay dock, Jace Velaryon groans as the last ferry to Dragonstone sails off, without him on it, having missed it by mere minutes, “Shit, shit shit.”
How is he ever going to make it in time for the birthday now? You went through all the effort of looking him up, inviting him… And now, the next ferry doesn’t leave until Monday, three days from now! He’s well and truly fucked. He groans, taking a seat on the dock, burying his face in his hands. Curse his need to stop and buy snacks on the way to the dock.
“Shit! The ferry… Wait, Jace?”
Jace turns around to see his mother’s younger brother, who in actuality is only a few years older than him, Aemond, who also appears to have a suitcase in hand. He looks at him curiously.
“Aemond! Hey, you going to Dragonstone?”
Aemond nods slowly, “Yes. I have an event there I’m attending. Or I was supposed to be, before I missed the bloody ferry,” he pauses before questioning, “You? Heading to Dragonstone as well?”
“Yeah, same actually,” Jace runs a hand through his hair before giving him a friendly grin, deciding to tell the truth, or at least part of it, thinking how stupid he’ll sound if he says he’s going to his ex summer fling, his first love’s kid’s tenth birthday party, “A, um, friend’s daughter’s birthday party, actually.”
Aemond looks at Jace, suspicion evident in his gaze as he questions him, “Your friend wouldn’t happen to be named Y/N, would she?”
“Yeah!” Jace exclaims excitedly, smiling at Aemond widely, “Wait, is that what you’re going for too? What a funny coincidence! How do you know Y/N? She’s great, isn’t she? Haven’t seen her in nearly ten years, but she’s just wonderful.”
Before Aemond can respond, they’re interrupted by a rather familiar voice calling their name. They look up to see none other than Aemond’s older brother, Aegon, waving at them from the bow of his yacht. The two exchange an amused look before turning back to the eldest of their little trio.
“You boys need a ride to Dragonstone?” Aegon smirks, “Headed out that way myself. Friend’s daughter is having a birthday party, and you know me. I can never turn down a party.”
“Wait,” Aemond looks at him suspiciously, “How do you know-”
“Yes, we need a ride,” Jace scrambles to climb on the boat, “Come on, Aemond, less questions, more getting on the boat and getting to the freaking island!”
Aemond sighs and listens to Jace, taking his elder brother’s hand and climbing on board, getting ready for the two hour ride to Dragonstone.
The two hour ride to see you again.
He wonders to himself why you sent him an invitation to your daughter’s birthday. Could it be an attempt to rekindle things between the two of you? Gods, he hopes so. Not a day has gone by these last ten years that he hasn’t thought of you. He watches as Blackwater Bay moves further and further from his view and his heart beats harder, thinking of seeing you again, after all this time.
Little do any of the three men know that you have absolutely no idea that they’re coming.
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overleftdown · 4 months
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this is going to be my somewhat-brief analysis (buckle in, it's not brief at all) of preluding scenes to farleigh and olivers... scene, lmao. because i can't read micro-expressions and social cues IRL, but i can for movies! also, i want to give my understanding of farleigh's character using the most substantial part of his arc. i disagree so much with a lot of people's takes on farleigh. i needed to talk extensively about it.
[0:58:46] farleigh makes eye contact with a footman. this is one of the footmen that farleigh mentions to felix in a later scene, which i'll also go into. what's interesting about this subtle interaction is how wildly differently you could consider it, depending on how you choose to view farleigh as a character. if you go the "mirror of oliver," route, then this eye contact could be the moment farleigh decides the route he's going to take to confront felix.
on the other hand, the hand that i believe makes more sense, farleigh is genuine in his confrontation with felix. the eye contact he shares with the footman is reciprocated; the footman holds it, even as his body pulls back and his head turns. this gives the idea that they are making a connection. the expression farleigh makes afterwards is also an indication that farleigh isn't plotting or scheming to earn pity points; he feels a connection and comradery with the only other black people at saltburn. when the footman turns away, unneeded anymore (this can be a parallel to farleigh), farleigh glances down, back up, then purses his lips. he looks dejected, in my opinion. this is immediately followed by farleigh's dig at oliver; "i think oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window.
food for thought.
[0:59:9] elsbeth: you can invite all your friends. farleigh: what friends?
this can obviously be a petty dig. and it is, in some ways. but i think a lot of these petty digs are because farleigh has been here before. he has watched his cousin drag home mediocre and tragic (presumably) white boys for perceived self-benefit. whether felix wants entertainment, wants to quell his guilty conscious (both of which are motivations for his mother), felix seems to have these fleeting possessive relationships with the friends he brings back to saltburn. he could also be queer and deeply repressed, lmfao.
i digress; farleigh is sick and tired. the first thing he says to oliver, before oliver even got to felix, was bitchy as all hell. after that, farleigh had more incentive to belittle oliver; yes, his comments about mannerisms, class, and overall character were petty. they were also all of the qualities that farleigh couldn't afford to have. farleigh is pointing out that oliver has no social life, yet still gets a 200-person party full of people that don't even know his name. this is tragically unfair, at least in farleigh's mind.
[1:01:25] felix: and fucking farleigh, what a little shit stirrer. oliver: well, someone has to entertain us all. felix: ...right. oliver: that's why we love him.
there's a clear disregard of humanity and depth, when felix concedes that farleigh is "entertainment." the sheer fact that felix would immediately believe oliver, a "stranger (as venetia so eloquently puts)" over a close family member, is odd on it's own. there are probably more reasons for distrust; everyone in saltburn is a shit stirrer, and farleigh does put on a particularly good show.
that's intentional, though. farleigh is very intentionally entertainment. otherwise, why would the cattons keep him around? they're welcoming people to their house as family, because they want a break from the reality of soul sucking wealth. because they want entertainment. elsbeth with her friend, who's only real personality traits are being pitiful and visibly different. felix, with his summer pet projects like oliver. farleigh can't be a temporary show; he needs to keep coming back. he needs sir james to support his mother.
[1:02:40] farleigh: i'm not saying my mother isn't completely idiotic when it comes to money. felix: you just have to be firm with her. farleigh: well i can't call her and tell her no! felix: i know, i know, you've said that. i know, i understand. farleigh: no, you don't know! you don't, it's humiliating. felix: it's very hard.
felix's approach to discussing other people's issues--that he does not relate to--makes me giggle sometimes. not that he's malicious or a fumbling idiot, but because of this scene specifically. in just this chunk of dialogue, you have the "i understand" and "you don't understand" conflict. an age old one. a common representation of someone who has never lived a specific struggle yet frames themselves as knowledgeable. felix seems to enjoy the "it's very hard" verbiage. the manner in which he speaks to oliver about his supposed impoverishment and struggles is very similar to the way he speaks to farleigh, in this scene.
i don't know what else to say about this. you can make your own inferences on felix's dialogue, i suppose.
[1:02:50] farleigh: i'm sorry, but it's a bit fucking shitty. you're all throwing oliver a party for 200 people while my mother lives in squalor. felix: well, she's hardly living in squalor, mate. farleigh: well she can't pay her bills so she will be! okay? at the rate she's going, she will be.
GAH. again, this dialogue can be considered in two different ways. farleigh could be hyperbolizing in order to play into the catton savior complex. or he could be completely genuine in his anxiety surrounding his mother's finances. it's very important that you recognize the fact that farleigh isn't arguing about himself, in this situation. he's talking about his mother. later in the conversation, he recenters himself as a person of color. but the original conflict is about whether or not his mom is living comfortably. this arguably affects him, but not entirely. he could continue to maintain his oxford-student-and-saltburn-resident character and continue to frolic around while his mom struggles to make responsible decisions.
[1:03:02] felix: right, well that's exactly why dads concerned about helping her. he doesn't want to enable her. he wants her to learn how to stand on her own two feet. farleigh: yeah, like he does?
and farleigh ate.
[1:03:09] farleigh: i mean, you know how this looks, right? making me come to you with a begging bowl. felix: what are you implying? farleigh: i think you know what i'm implying, felix. why don't you ask liam and joshua? felix: who... who the fuck are liam and joshua!? farleigh: ...your footmen.
farleigh's mannerisms in this portion of the scene GAG me. the easy confidence, the self-assured and confrontational attitude. the cocky wave of his shoulders and tilt of his head. he smirks, scoffs, makes and holds eye contact as emphasis to what he is accusing. the way he says "i think you know what i'm implying" even though i'm not quite sure if felix did. this really hammers in the implicit nature of the cattons' treatment of farleigh.
[1:03:33] felix: oh, oh. that is... that is low, farleigh. farleigh: okay. felix: jesus christ, mate! seriously, is that where you wanna take this!? farleigh: right. felix: make it a race thing!? what the fuck! i mean, we're your family, we hardly even notice that you're... different, or anything like that! farleigh: mmm. felix: i never know our footmen's names!
GAGGED. i eat up this scene and lick my fingers. "wohohoho, i don't see color! i can't believe you'd make it a race thing!" i know i should cut felix some slack, but this is just a little too real. although i've cut farleigh some slack for his classism.
the complete change in farleigh's mannerisms from the previous timestamp to this one is EDIBLE. i can't cope with it. his smile as felix says "that is low" is so painfully real. it says "i've been here before and maybe i was expecting this." for a second, felix is almost entertainingly cliche. then the exasperation hits. farleigh just looks tired. he blinks rapidly, smooths over his eyebrow with his hand, vocalizes his disbelief in felix's denial. "we hardly even notice you're different," to which farleigh crosses his arms (defensive), raises his eyebrows, nods along.
i won't include the final few lines of this conversation cuz i'm blabbing FAR too much, but farleigh's expressions of absolutely exhaustion and disappointment as felix says they've "been more generous then most"... i'm so sick. it doesn't matter what other families would do, because this family passes out charity like it's their favorite pastime. farleigh is your best american girl.
oliver, overhearing this conversation, immediately knows what his next plan of action is. compare himself to farleigh. and really, it's funny, because oliver misses the obvious differences between him and farleigh. just like everyone else. he will never feel different, not in the same way farleigh does. not with farleigh's relationship to the cattons, the legacy of his parents, and his blackness.
[1:06:32] (godfather's karaoke scene, AKA apple bottom jeans. he's a disgusting manchild and he throws his jacket at his wife.) is it odd to point out that another one of the only visible black characters is being degraded/mistreated/disregarded? not crazy, right? especially following the conversation about bias two scenes ago.
[1:07:02] farleigh: y'know, i think i'd fuck richard the III. he's so insecure, so you'd know he'd put in the work, right? oliver: or you could just fuck me, right?
here, i think there's a level of projection that farleigh is using in his line about insecurity. not only is it made known that farleigh uses sex as a tool (with teachers, specifically), but it's also made known that farleigh believes/knows that he is treated differently due to his race and/or family history. oliver seems to have clocked this, considering he relates himself to richard the III, then tells farleigh they have similar experiences.
[1:07:34] oliver: y'know, if you ever wanna talk to anyone, you can talk to me, farleigh. farleigh: ...what do you mean? oliver: well, i know you're going through a hard time at home. i know how that feels, when things are so precarious. it's terrifying... and lonely. and it must be so fucking weird, having to ask them for everything. and i know you fucking hate me. farleigh: i... i don't hate you. oliver: but... if you ever wanted me to talk to them, to see if there's... if i can help in any way... just ask. farleigh: ...okay.
i love this movie. have i said that yet? i bet you definitely couldn't tell by this post. this conversation is so... there's so much to talk about.
i'll start with some of my favorite of farleigh's mannerisms/expressions. when oliver first cuts their... tensions with "you can talk to me," farleigh pulls back slightly, sits up slightly, looks across oliver's face. there's a level of shock to it, but. farleigh was comfortable with oliver, his sworn enemy, flirting with him. yet, he pulled back at a genuine offer of support. some see this as farleigh always wanting oliver sexually, but i think it's more nuanced than that. when oliver says "terrifying... and lonely" that's when the camera cuts back to farleigh. he previously wore a half-smile that is now dropping; "lonely" was the hardest word to swallow. his lip is quivering. he looks up in an almost-eye roll when he says, "i don't hate you." he's laughing when oliver finishes, like he finds it all funny, yet the way he says "okay" makes him seem genuine. however... clearly not, considering the next portion of this scene!
even though oliver is lying out of his ass, everything he's saying is a description of farleigh. people grossly misunderstand farleigh's character, even when it's laid onto a banquette sized table through this portion of the movie. he's insecure, desperate, terrified, unsure, and lonely. farleigh, with so many friends and so many scandalous choices, is so fucking lonely. he knows he doesn't belong here, so he jams his ill-fitting puzzle piece into the saltburn jigsaw and crosses his fingers.
he tells oliver he doesn't hate him, and he looks like he's struggling to spit it out. he looks up towards the ceiling, closes his eyes like he's gathering himself. again, people take this as a bonding moment. the next portion of the scene contradicts this. honestly, i'm not completely sure, either. i think he's honest when he says he doesn't hate oliver. so, what? he's jealous, definitely. he wants to hold the same power as oliver, a foreign entity with somehow so much more privilege than farleigh. maybe that bred a certain kind of infatuation; the need to emulate what you'll never be. of course, he sees himself in the boys felix brings home; they, just like farleigh, need or want something from the cattons (although i object to the idea that farleigh is somehow "a mirror" of oliver). do what you will with this word vomit, i don't know where i'm going here.
and OH MY GOD "if you ever wanted me to talk to them, to see if there's... if i can help in any way," is diabolical. so terribly diabolical. the sheer idea that oliver knows, is pummeling it into farleigh's face, that he has authority over farleigh's life like that? that he knew felix for six months and he can somehow "talk to" farleigh's family about treating farleigh better... vomit inducing. farleigh is actually your best american girl.
[1:09:39] (karaoke scene) elsbeth, so uncomfortable with the idea that oliver is using them. i suppose that's the manner of wealthy people; they don't want to believe that they're only good for their money. but... they did that to themselves, in a way. they enjoy the pet projects, the charity work, the ego boost that comes with inviting the "lesser" to saltburn. hanjob on a haybale, golden big boy summer, right? everyone in the room is scandalized. farleigh is having the time of his fucking life. yet, here's the kicker,
[1:10:10] oliver: this is your song too, farleigh. come finish it. farleigh: only if you insist!
and then farleigh gives the performance of his life, by the way. people died. but... nobody is uncomfortable. literally no one. no one shudders or gasps at the scandal of oliver saying "this is your song, too" over the karaoke microphone; everyone heard. nobody cares. they all know. they start clapping farleigh on, cheering. elsbeth relaxes back onto her bed of cushions, because farleigh is entertaining. the change in mood is soooo... interesting.
[1:10:45] curse this scene, i don't even want to talk about it. it was hot, oliver and farleigh are so homoerotic, whatever yadayada. just like every other sexual scene in this movie, it is riddled with a suffocating kind of uncomfortable tension. we are made intimate third-party witnesses to carnal, sinful, emotionally ambiguous scenes. when i pointed out farleigh seemed more comfortable with flirting then comfort, when i said farleigh uses sex as a tool, when i said farleigh was projecting with "he's so insecure, so you know he'd put in the work." i just overthink. but any person that has sexual relationships with teachers needs intensive therapy and that cannot be denied. however, it's oliver, that uses sex as a tool throughout this movie. another uncomfortable parallel between the two characters.
something about farleigh's expression throughout this scene is... kind of hurtful. the way the moonlight just barely illuminates the light in his eyes, whereas any detail of oliver's face is shrouded in darkness. it make's farleigh look young, innocent, real. (sidenote, as i'm watching, i have to mention this. the way farleigh says that second "no" is so funny. "...no...?" LMFAO). man, i don't even know what to say, past this. the whole dominant dynamic, farleigh saying "i'm going to behave" is a little too painful considering the context leading up to this scene. it's freaky. it's so very oliver.
this is way too long but i could make so many more connections with their final confrontation at oliver's birthday party. i'm drowning in thoughts. what i really wanted to highlight was how ambiguous farleigh's character is, and how differently a lot of his scenes can be perceived. i've decided that farleigh is a sympathetic character, similar to oliver but so much less powerful. some people hate farleigh! so. there's that. the end! thanks to anyone who read this whole thing!
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