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#nothing romantic at all. platonic relationship all around
sodasa-was-taken · 3 days
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How subtle is the romance of G-Witch really: The language of romance and the bias in interpretation
First of all, I want to express my gratitude for all the feedback I've received. You guys are awesome. When I posted my first analysis, I had no idea how it would be perceived. Throughout my life, I've mostly been met with confusion, if not a bit of curiosity, when I've told people about my fascination with the romance genre. Even people who like the genre don't treat it with the respect I do but rather see it as something they can turn their brains off to. I was scared that people who saw my analysis would think that G-Witch, I dunno, had too much else going on to be considered a romance. I can't tell you all how validating it's been to get this much praise for writing about one of my biggest passions. Thank you so much.
This post is less an analysis of G-Witch as it's an exploration of the hypocrisy in how straight and gay romances are interpreted even by the queer community. I've engaged with a lot of female/male romances, especially when I was younger and thought I was straight, so it's quite surreal seeing similar stories being interpreted vastly differently based only on whether the main characters are queer or not.
There's been a lot of discussion about how explicit same-sex relationships in fiction should be. Many agree that the minimum for the characters to be unambiguously into each other is for them to kiss. That would be an ideal metric if the same applied to a man and a woman being into each other. It does not. For the vast majority of history, since people first started portraying characters in romantic relationships, explicit depictions of physical affection between those characters haven't been a thing. Depicting that sort of thing didn't become commonplace until the 20th century. For example, you would be hard-pressed to find any of the somewhat indecent positions Miorine and Suletta get into in a Jean Austin novel. Like, usually in a platonic hug, you lay your head on someone's shoulder or clavicle, and Miorine's burying her face in the upper part of Suletta's cleavage. How scandalous!
Of course, these views are centuries old, and the expectations of what should be included in a story about people getting together have changed drastically since then. Except in a lot of ways, it hasn't. Especially in manga, light novels, and anime, it can take real-life years for two characters to show affection through physician touch. Still, it’s expected that the characters are or will become attracted to one another and that they’ll end up together before the end of the story. Unless they’re the same gender, where not only is that not an expectation, but due to tropes such as Bury Your Gays, people are more likely to think one of them is going to die. That’s messed up. Being a main character in a romance or something adjacent shouldn’t be a death sentence for any character. Then there’s the fact that same-sex couples-to-be in fiction can be as forward as they want in their physical and verbal affections. Still, a straight couple-to-be that does nothing but bigger or just be the most prominent characters in their respective genders will still be perceived as less ambiguous. A man and a woman who get a bit flustered around each other are hopelessly in love. Yet, two girls sharing an intimate hug after a conversation about how neither wants their engagement to just be a transaction; that’s “totally platonic.”
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Better yet, Hollywood has fine-tuned this to the point that the male and female leads only need to look at each other for about five seconds, and it’s enough to infer that they’re attracted to each other. This has become so ubiquitous that people have gotten confused when the leads are implied not to have gotten together despite having shown zero romantic intent. Having the character show romantic intent isn’t generally considered a requirement for them to end up together in a Hollywood film. No, seriously. All this is to say that literary and visual shorthand have always been and continue to be a major part of romances. Yet, the bar is much higher when it comes to the confirmation that two characters of the same gender are into each other. An author can use the exact same narrative tools that have become a staple of female/male romances/romantic subplots, and someone will tell you you're being led on for picking up on them.
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The main reason for the high standards placed on same-sex couples is the desire for representation. If straight couples are allowed to or even expected to kiss at some point in the story, the same should be the case for same-sex couples. That said, kissing neither is nor should be the be-all and end-all of good representation. Yeah, straight couples get to kiss and have sexual relationships, but by all accounts, a significant amount of straight representation is absolutely abysmal. Lots of straight romances reek of sexism, outdated gender roles, and stereotyping, are toxic, and straight-up have a reputation for romanticizing abuse. If kissing or an “I love you” is the metric to which good representation is judged, two straight people who have zero chemistry or are downright abusive would be better representation than a same-sex couple whose relationship is built on mutual respect and support but who doesn't get to kiss or say “I love you” and that's ridiculous.
It’s also worth noting how people who tell others they’re crazy for seeing a queer story where according to them, there aren’t any, get characterized as needing to see something explicit to pick up that a story is or even just be interpreted as a queer romance. The thing is, most of these people aren’t dense; they’re willfully ignorant. They can pick up on the signs just as easily as they can in male/female romances; they’re choosing not to, even if it’s likely an unconscious decision. There seems to be a need among queer people to have depictions in media that even bigots can’t deny are queer. Why though? Representation is vital in helping to normalize the existence of various types of people, but for so many queer people, it just doesn’t seem to be enough. So what if some people wouldn’t get it unless the characters kiss? Those people will just start complaining about how they’re having queerness forced down their throats, and that’s their problem. There’s so much more to the queer experience than displays of physical affection, and this representation gatekeeping isn’t helping anyone. Normalizing same-sex couple kissing is important, but normalizing people of the same gender kissing is only going to normalize the kissing itself. If, for example, two people of the same gender get to kiss and then one of them gets killed off, that's the opposite of normalizing same-sex relationships.
Pulling from my own experiences, I've never been told that there was anything wrong with two people of the same gender kissing. Still, I saw same-sex relationships as inferior and believed being in one couldn't give me the life I wanted. I tried so hard to convince myself that I was straight and was only attracted to someone with a different gender presentation than me – because I was also an egg who told myself I was wrong for feeling uncomfortable for being referred to as my assigned gender at birth. Honestly, I thought that I would be happier if I didn’t even entertain the idea of getting together with someone with the same gender presentation as me. So, imagine how much it meant to me to see a show about two girls where one of them didn’t even think that getting engaged to another girl was an option, both of them having young men interested in them but asking each other to spend their life with them, and ending the show being married and being all the happier for being with the other. That's the kind of representation I've been looking for.
On a less serious note, I’d like to share an antidote from when I watched episode one for the first time. When Suletta sees someone floating around in space who appears to be in danger I didn’t initially consider that the person in question might be Miorine. The visuals planted the idea in my mind and the thing that confirmed it was the framing of the two inside Aerial’s cockpit. I couldn’t explain what I was picking up on, but to me, it was a dead giveaway.
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bmpmp3 · 1 year
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one of my favourite character relationship dynamics, platonic romantic or anything, is when two characters are absolutely the bestest of best friends and when one is hurt or something the other will scream and cry and wail and explode and when the other is in danger then the first one will go on some kind of silent terminator-esque rampage about it. besties (do no separate)
#i havent watched more than season 3 of x files but i rewatched season 2 recently#and that entire season along with the first half of season 3 (where i am now LOL) have been entirely this#literally like. mulders the screaming crying throwing up type and scullys the terminator one#its awesome#another far less obvious and possibly less intentional example but recently ive been reading some villainess manwha called#a villainess no more and like. the romance is kinda sweet and gentle and cute and all but like#i kind of really loved in the early parts where they kinda just became besties at first sight#like bro......they are BEST FRIENDS#rn in the story ive gotten to the point where theyre best friends And lovers which is sweet#its interesting though normally im a huge sap who loves romance in like everything but like...i kinda preferred them just as besties?#not something that happens to me often (nothing wrong with purely platonic relationships im just a romantic dweeb)#(theres exceptions of course. speaking of scully and mulder i like them best not as romantic or platonic but a secret third thing)#(theyre relationship is: scully and mulder. you know. thats their relationship status)#but this is a case where i really loved the platonic married besties dynamic a LOT#are there any comics or something about two besties being married platonically. maybe im craving something i never knew i craved#besties wedding. besties wedding#but i guess its no surpirse that i love besties dynamics if you remember all my complaints about certain routes in certain sengoku era otog#i think shingens route should have had more goofing around. i think mc and shingen should have become besties before romance#sometimes i cant buy romance unless they become best friends first. become BUDDIES before u put a ring on it#if that makes sense. who knows what im talking about. hold your besties real close tonight.....for me#(a transparent version of me smiling is overlayed over the night sky before i fade away into stardust)
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malkaviian · 1 year
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i never talk about the effects the "breakup" with finnley had on chase so im going to do it now
#oc talk#he pretends it didnt affected him at all but it did. to this day he still misses him a lot but thats not something hes going to admit#maybe his attachment wasnt healthy but he was the only person (alongside dalila) that stayed by his side even when hes a piece of shit#and he isnt that much of a bad person not to be grateful for it; even when he wonders why he didnt go away sometimes.#he treated him way better than everyone else in the world but even then there were times his anger issues got the best of him#and lashed out; mostly without a real reason. and yet he stayed forgiving him every time and not taking it personally.#because he loved (platonically) him and he also did. but they had to basically fuck around and find out and it ruined it kdjsfnjsd#i mean; they still stayed as good friends while it happened and no romantic feelings were involved at all. to this day nothing is romantic#but then caspian had to appear and neither of them are of an open relationship type of guys so they couldnt stay as fwbs anymore#in fact when chase started to mention caspian as something more than a cute guy thats when finnley started to act jealous#because he never talked about someone else other than him like that. he hated it. and chase was also quite hurt with his obvious disgust#why isnt his best friend supporting him when he finally found someone else? isnt that what best friends are supposed to do?#but he tried to ignore the growing friction between two and even made finnley and caspian meet each other in hopes they would get along#but it just made it worse. and it was maddening. it made him even more frustrated with life than he already is#and could literally spend nearly the whole day smoking. fighting for minimal things with anyone was a must. he was way more easily provoked#and thats saying a lot. and then he started dating caspian and everything just. collapsed. finnley solely blames chase for the 'breakup'#and now chase solely blames finnley for being a capricious child who cant take a 'no' for an answer and not have everything go his way#even if he deep down knows finnley is not like that. they have been friends since they were 14 y/o they *know* how the other is#however as i said he still misses him a lot. he wishes his efforts to make his bf and him get along got the desired effect#thats why when they see each other chase just looks away or pretend hes unaffected; maybe a little bit bothered. but actually#he feels really uncomfortable. and tries to mask that with anger because he feels like he would do something he will regret otherwise#not in an aggressive way he would never lay a finger on him. or purposefully hurt his feelings (again)#but in a very depressive; pathetic; kinda guilt-tripping way of asking him to return. as we all knows hes not the best#when it comes to impulse control. mostly if hes drunk which is basically the only time they see each other during parties#donnarose isnt the biggest place there isnt a really big selection of places to have fun.#so they inevitably run into each other more often than they would like. they try to ignore the fact theyre still kinda connected#because caspian and alex are mostly-internet friends. man y'all have the worst luck huh.#so yeah theyre a whole mess.
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theonlymadmanonmars · 2 months
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Hi hello hi. As an AroAce individual in a QPR who has no desire for a romantic or sexual relationship, I think shipping Alastor in QPRs is so so fun and people should do it more. I also think it works for a good amount if not all of the ships I've seen him in.
Alastor and Rosie: Hell yeah. They're already great friends and every interaction we've seen between them has been pure and adorable. Rosie Gently guiding Alastor through his identity because he isn't exactly up with the slang. Them going out for tea and human flesh Sunday afternoons. Them giving each other forehead kisses and holding hands platonically.
Alastor and Angle dust: Mhmm. Angle not really wanting Sex or romance after all he's been through. Angle respecting Alastor's identity and not pushing for anything more than friendship. Alastor not really liking Angle at first because of their differences, But tolerating him regardles. Alastor explaining to Angle that Romantic relationships don't have to involve Sex (I'm an Asexual Angle truther.) Angle offering Alastor a hug that Alastor reluctantly accepts. Them cuddling at night with a pinky Promise of nothing more.
Alastor and Vox: Go ahead. A fic about Alastor trying to Navigate exactly how he feels about Vox, Because when he died the term AroAce didn't exist, so he thinks it's romantic attraction, Maybe they kiss and Alastor is like "Ha! No!" Maybe that's why they had their falling out? Who knows.
Alastor and Lucifer: So So SO much Yes. (This is my personal favorite) The two of them hating each other, but putting up for each other for Charlie's sake. Slowly growing to actually tolerate and maybe even like being around the other. Exchanging snarky remarks in a more playful way. Alastor finding Lucifer sitting in a pile of ducks and despair and offering his hand to help him up and take him to the hotel. Never letting go of his hand. Fuck Enemies to Friends to Lovers I want an Enemies to Friends to Qpr arc goddamnit.
I do think it's okay to ship Alastor even outside of QPR's, BUT. If you do, don't just ignore Alastor's identity. AroAce people get far less representation than the rest of the LGBTQ+ community. I can think of one other canon Character off the top of my head. So it's not okay to erase the little rep we do get. In the end I think it's important to listen to what AroAce people have to say on the matter, it is our representation after all.
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nouearth · 8 months
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a sticky situation.
peter parker x male reader.
summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.
wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!
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a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.
god, did i luck out with peter… 
you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.
on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.
peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it. 
you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more. 
from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.
opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.
difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.
he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.
taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.
seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…
normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.
note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.
you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end. 
“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“
“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.
“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”
“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“
judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”
on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was. 
“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.
“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.
you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.
 “oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“ 
“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“
that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy. 
before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.
when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen. 
but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you. 
he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.
tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!
peter does.
as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change. 
quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.
enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.
if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face. 
you. that was all he wanted. 
peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.
he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.
you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.
oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look. 
even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.
maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then.  not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.  
in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…
aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!
peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.
“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.
“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.
“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now. 
your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.
it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.
maybe peter was like the others after all.
you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,” 
the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“
he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.
it was all a blur. 
his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.
“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise. 
“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.
you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.
“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.
then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“
“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”
infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.
before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you. 
“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”
the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”
“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it. 
you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment. 
he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress. 
take your time. i’m not going anywhere.
“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch. 
felt it.
“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.
“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”
 “i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.
“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”
“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…
“i just wanted to fuck you.”
pervert.
the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”
he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”
“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.
for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.
peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster. 
you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?
he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.
both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it. 
peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”
everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.
he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor. 
“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”
and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“
“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”
peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.  
“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.
“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed. 
he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more. 
“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”
“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“
without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off. 
after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean. 
nothing was wasted. 
the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.
to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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teaboot · 1 year
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While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.
Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.
If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.
This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.
As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:
"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."
"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."
"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."
"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."
"I must have been wrong."
This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:
"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"
"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."
"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"
Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.
You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.
The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:
Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.
A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.
Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.
Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.
The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:
Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.
Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.
Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.
Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.
Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)
Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)
I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.
I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".
('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)
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ki-yomii · 2 months
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like i do | jjk
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➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.2k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues
➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘
➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
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Eavesdropping.
Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.
Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.
But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.
And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.
The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.
Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.
He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.
It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.
His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”
And Jungkook knows, okay.
He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.
If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.
For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.
However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.
Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.
Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.
And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.
All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.
What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby. 
It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.
The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.
When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.
Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.
You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.
Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?
Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?
Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.
The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.
So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.
Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.
That should be me.
You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
He can’t lose you.
It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.
Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.
Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.
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Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.
He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.
It’s your first year anniversary.
He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.
You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.
Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.
He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.
“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”
“What’re you doing here?”
Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.
Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.
A lump grows in his throat.
“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.
Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.
The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style. 
“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”
“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”
It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.
Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.
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It’s been several days of radio silence.
No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.
If only you’d stayed.
Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.
He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.
The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.
“What are we even doing?” he asks.
Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.
There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.
It’s all my fault.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”
“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”
Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”
His intentions are pure, honest.
But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.
He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.
“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”
“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”
Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?” 
“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”
“Don’t even try to deny it.”
His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.
The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”
You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”
“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”
Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.
The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.
Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.
He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”
Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.
“Let go-”
“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”
Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”
In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.
A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.
Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”
The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.
You call to him softly.
He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”
“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”
Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.
A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.
Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.
“K-Kook!”
“Mm, that’s it.”
The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.
Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.
"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"
Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.
Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”
Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.
You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.
“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”
Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.
Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest. 
His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.
He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.
“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”
Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.
A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.
He groans.
“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”
Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.
Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir. 
“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.
He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.
When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.
“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”
Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.
He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”
Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.
“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”
You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.
Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.
“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”
“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.
Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.
You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.
“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”
God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.
“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”
A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.
“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.
Please.
He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss. 
You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”
“Tell me who you belong to.”
He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.
His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.
The answer will either make or break him.
Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.
“Tell me.”
“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”
Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.
Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.
Love you like you deserve to be.
Like only he knows how to.
The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”
Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.
Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.
“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”
The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”
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everythingne · 4 months
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DRUNK WALK HOME - MV1
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Your relationship with your teammate is non-existent at best. Since you've joined Red Bull, a second driver thrown in last second, Max has kept a wide berth. He's more interested in himself... well, until he spots your ex-boyfriend getting a bit too rough with your tipsy self at a bar in Monaco.
max verstappen x racer!fem!reader (can be viewed romantic or platonic)
warnings/notes: drunkenness, physical violence, implied attempted assault, implied drink spiking, sort of 'dark' fiction, hurt/comfort (guys i can write angst but we need happy endings ok?), reader's looks are not described/image used in the header is not to describe the reader, the only descriptor are heels, dress, and she/her pronouns used for the reader,
series link (coming soon!)
--
Max typically steered clear of you. Which was fine, you were a rookie driver, his second, only on Red Bull because an injury that took Checo out for the season and bumped you up from a reserve driver. You mostly stuck by yourself, doing your training alone, racing alone, eating alone... and such. The only time you and Max really spoke was during press, you didn't mind, but it was kinda clear to everyone that Max Verstappen did not like you. For whatever reason.
You assumed it was because he felt partly responsible for Checo's injury, due to also being involved with the accident. So he kept a wide berth because you reminded him of that mistake.
What you didn't know was he ignored you because he liked you way too much, and couldn't risk hurting both of your careers for something as trivial as his feelings. So, he kept his distance, watched from afar and kept tabs on you. Almost like a stalker, Charles had joked to him.
He didn't mind being considered a stalker if it meant keeping you safe.
There was one thing you had told Max, or more so he had been involved in the conversation when you had told Christian. The one deeper thing he knew about you was your ex boyfriend was nothing but a waste of fucking time. He had just been manipulative, urged you into doing a lot of things, and you had been telling Christian about it because someone had seen him at the paddocks. Max had cataloged his name--Isaiah Martelack, and then when he got home that night curiosity killed the cat.
Ten articles and a beer bottle later he told himself, and whatever ghosts might be floating around his apartment, that he'd kill the man. Standing outside this club now, months and months later, with Charles lazily waving goodbye to someone Max didn't recognize... Max realizes he might just have the opportunity.
You'd been very drunk, but promised Max you were going to go home with Daniel. Which was fine, because Daniel was a fucking saint and Max trusted even the absolutely sloshed group that was Lando, Oscar, Logan and Daniel with you. However, Daniel was rubbing a sick Logan's back and yelling for Lando to stop trying to tackle Oscar, who was trying to call their rideshare, and you were not there. Not with the group you had been with only three or so minutes prior.
"Where's hotshot?" Max turns to Charles, the nickname they'd come up with you for in public spaces flowing out without second thought. Charles perks up, turns in a full circle and then shrugs.
"Ask Danny?" Charles peeks around the building, seeing nothing down the front side of the building or in the front parking lot. But that was all he scanned.
"Danny's hands are full enough with the McLaren drivers at the moment." Max laughs under his breath, looking over his shoulder, down the sort of shadier side of the building. It was dark around that side, Charles telling everyone to try and steer clear of it because they might get mugged if they go in that side lot. Max hadn't thought much about it after that, but something in the back of his head was nagging him to look a bit further.
He's happy he remembered you'd worn those little black heels with the silver bow on the front, because he sees one laying there just inside the shadows of the buildings alley. The ankle clasp snapped off and laying nearby, like there had been some sort of struggle. He pauses, holding up a hand as Charles calls for Danny's attention. Charles keeps shouting as Max steps into the shadows to peek, and as his eyes adjust he feels ice in his veins as his arms thrumn with energy. Your ex--stupid fucking Isaiah, has you pinned against the back wall. Max knows you'd be able to fight back in any usual circumstances, but something in the way your eyes flutter open and closed and you try to weakly cry out for help against the mans large hand covering most of your face tells Max there's more wrong than just what he can see.
"Hey!" Is all he can think to shout. Isaiah turns, Max running up, before just clocking the fucking guy in the jaw as hard as he can. Charles shouts behind him, someone else screaming his name as he falls with Isaiah to the ground. He doesn't really count how many times he pummels the guys face into the concrete until it takes Charles, Daniel, Logan, and Lando to pull him back to his feet. Both of Charles' hands pressing Max's chest until Max seems to come back to his sanity after that blip out of his consciousness. The first thing he feels is intense pain in his knuckles, but the first thing he does is look for you.
Oscar's kneeling with you against the wall, a hand under your bloodied jaw as you try and explain, but even the most sober person in the room fails to understand you.
"What the fuck, man!" Isaiah shouts, stumbling back to his feet and wiping at his bloody and broken face. It was almost sort of... therapeutic to see it.
"You ever fucking touch her again and I'll take your hands clean off your body." Max steps forward, jabbing a finger right in Isaiah's chest, making both Charles and Daniel move to push him back.
"Max, Max." Charles pushes Max back against the wall, not like he was trying to be aggressive but more so that he was trying to diffuse the situation.
"Who the hell are you?" Isaiah wipes at his nose and Max takes a second to look around. About an arms length away, a clearly heavily intoxicated Isaiah sways, Lando and Daniel hovering near him, Logan hangs off to the side by the front of the building--waving someone over. Oscar is to Max's right, whispering softly and kneeling with you as he tries to calm you down. Charles holds Max by one hand to his chest, looking over the group.
Max takes a slow breath, shakes out his hands, wipes his own bleeding nose and then turns to where you're curled on the ground. He walks over, Oscar looking up and standing as Max approaches.
"She's... really out of it." Oscar hums, not expecting you to do much of anything, but you stand on shaking legs and lean into Max's arm that flies up to catch you. Oscar brings a hand up to your other arm, watching as you lift a shaking hand to wipe some blood off Max's face.
"You.." your voice is small, weak, and swaying, and Max adjusts so he can hold you against him to keep you upright.
"Relax, okay?" Max shuffles in your hold, before tossing his jacket over your shoulders, trying to hide the red marks he can see forming on your arms and neck, "Take this and... just stay by my side."
"Hey, cars are here to go back to the hotel." Logan calls, sporting a water bottle and four or five phones in his hand, "y'all ready to go, or?"
"What about this fucker?" Lando asks, eyeing Isaiah. Daniel's arms cross firm over his chest and he nods his head over to Max with a small smile.
"I think Mad Max there did enough damage for this guy to understand he should keep away."
"Oh, and--" Charles turns, leaning down to pick up your heel and handing it to Oscar, who helps you try and put it on while Max keeps your stable.
"He should know better than to mess with the friends of the... what do they call me? Prince of Monaco or whatever?" Theres a sly grin that ripples across Charles face and a look of horror dons Isaiah's as he realizes just who he'd been fucking with. When he goes to run, Lando chases him out with a loud drunk cackle as you're escorted to a waiting car.
You know, loosely, that you've ended up in the back of some car, situated between Max and Charles who speak in hushed tones. Your head is swimming, a headache thrumming under the swirling world and sick feeling in your body. The jacket someone had laid over your shoulders providing both heat to your trembling body but also, coverage and protection. The night was pieced together, a mess of shots, dancing, and laughter that had blurred together the longer you had been in that stuffy Monaco club.
That one shot had been the downfall, you'd known it had tasted off but assumed the best. And then Isaiah had shown up, and you should've known from that moment everything was over. You should've told Max to wait with you, instead of waiting for Daniel to get Logan out of the club. Oscar was way too preoccupied trying to keep Lando from being an idiot to notice you get grabbed, of no fault of his own, and Lando was too drunk to know what was happening in general.
And the next thing you can remember seeing, as you recount the nights events to try and keep yourself from losing your stomach in the back of this very nice car, is Max. The way he'd thrown Isaiah down and followed him, each collision of his fist to Isaiah's face, and the way the man beneath him struggled to fight back. The things he had said, the way he looked was nothing like the Max you had grown accustomed to. He wasn't cold and reserved, silent, just a phantom you had grown used to having behind you. No, Max was fiery, loud and violent. No longer was he a passive nod, he was a fist being jammed into teeth with intent to break something, intent to maim the man who'd even just tried to hurt you.
"You alright?" Max asks, and you realize you've been staring. Swallowing, you look down at your lap, holding your shattered phone and broken purse in your hands as you try to think of what to say.
"Y'didn't hav'ta do that." Your words come out more sloshed together than you had hoped, and Max sighs, his own nose scabbed over a while back, you can tell from the darkness of the blood around it.
"No one gets to treat you like that, yeah?" Max says, leaning down to pull the jacket further over you to make sure you're kept safe within it, "No one."
"Christian's g'nna be mad at'ya." You lean into his chest as he sits back, and though he's still for long enough for you to almost pull back, his arms wrapping around you a second later makes you stay.
"He can be mad all he wants, I don't regret pummeling that guys face in." Max shrugs and you hear Charles laugh softly, the car pulling to a stop. The world spins as Max and Charles get you out of the car, into the hotel, and then it's Max who brings you into his room. Charles goes off to get some rest, just leaving you and Max alone. Max says it's because your room is right next to his, so he can just take you next door when you get sleepy. So, you end up on the couch in Max's room with his duvet wrapped around you like a burrito while scouring the room service menu with a water bottle in hand.
"See anything good?" Max asks, emerging from the bathroom in an arguably comfier outfit, you hum setting it down and drinking about half the bottle in one go. The water was helping, or it was placebo as the actual things in your system were finishing up their course. But even though a simple thing of chicken tenders and fries sounds great, you still feel sick enough, you can't imagine stomaching anything.
So you complain, "They have boring food."
"It's a hotel. I wasn't expecting caviar or something." He sits next to you, taking the menu off the coffee table and reading over it, "we can just get junk. I think Christian will understand."
You're quiet for a few seconds, before you poke Max's leg with your foot, "You didn't have to do that, Max. The whole thing with Isaiah."
"If I didn't do that, how far would he have gone?" Max's response is blunt and there's no answer you want to tell him. His hands tighten around the menu before he tosses it down, his hands almost fidgety.
You need to fill the silence, so you say, "You could've just shouted."
"And let him keep his hands on you? God, forget it. Y/n, you should've told me about him, I would've kept a closer eye on you while we were leaving."
"Why would I have told you," You immediately counter, brushing some hair out of your face as you turn to Max and almost curl into the blankets for safety, "it's not like we even talk outside of press."
"I know but..." Max struggles to find the words, you can see it in the way his mouth opens, closes, and then finally he sighs and adjusts the way he's sitting, "you're still my teammate, and... I know you might not really believe me but I'm gonna be here for you. Whenever you're ready to rely on me, I'll be there."
You don't really know what to say, just watching him for a moment before you whisper, "what if I want to rely on you now?"
"Then, let me say this," Max leans forward, brushing a few hairs off your face and adjusting the blanket as he speaks in such a soft tone you're surprised it comes from him, "No one's gonna hurt you as long as I'm here. I promise you that."
There's almost a sort of... pain that fills you. The genuine feeling of his tone, and you shimmy out of the blankets partly as you murmur in your still tipsy haze, "Can I have a hug?"
"Oh, sweetheart... come here," his arms extend and in moments you feel him cradle you to his chest as you hide there, still sickly, still exhausted, still shaking. You close your eyes against his shirt and sigh heavily. Neither of you speak for a while, after Max orders a bunch of random items and two teas from the room service. You know you're crying, even as you try and hold yourself together. Even if you hadn't been in your right mind when everything had happened, it still shook you to your core. Without having to be told, Max rubs along your shoulders, eyes closed as he lets you bury your head against his chest and sob. He doesn't move until you calm down enough for him to feel comfortable gently setting you aside to get the room service left in the hall. When he comes back, he plops next to you on the couch and hands you a plate of shitty hotel food. And as Max plays some videos on his phone for the both of you to watch, you feel the drinks slowly wean off as you sip on the tea, head buried against Max's shoulder as you blink at whatever stupid tik tok has him making a weird face at his screen.
You're not sure when you fall asleep, but you wake up laying on Max's couch, head in his lap as two voices speak above you.
"She's alright, though?" Christian's voice speaks and you feel someones hand running through your hair by its roots, coming back to rest warmly against the back of your neck.
"A bit shaken, but it's y/n, she'll be fine." Max's voice is soft. Christian sighs and shakes his head with a soft chuckle, the sound of a cup being set down as someone gets up off the other side of the couch. Max, who you've been laying upon for a while now, shifting and chuckling softly.
"You've been wrapped tight around her finger, huh?" Christian's voice chimes a bit farther away now.
"Yeah. Just a bit." Max's hand moves, tucking hair behind your ear as he plays with the ends of each strand in a small little pattern, "She's not a bad one to get caught by though."
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bluexiao · 5 months
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#monsieur neuvillette’s relationship headcanons
NOTES. finally a work after months. i missed this, tbh. but hey, here’s my new husband for you. might also have a part 2 of this i feel like i haven’t written everything yet
WARNING. real identity spoilers (nothing too explicit from the current archon quest i haven’t even done it yet oops)
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NEUVILLETTE
(Before)
Before the relationship began, it took a long while for him to truly process what he had been feeling towards you—to be frank, he even thought he was getting sick (which was impossible. He never got sick.), though that thought comes to an end the moment he realizes that the effects only happen when he is around you. Only you.
He had heard of love before. Had seen love. Had read about love. Not just the platonic or familial ones, but also romance and more. And yet, he does not understand them, simply because he considers them as something someone like him would not eventually feel.
And yet, it all changed when he first saw you. Curiosity turns to admiration, and admiration turns to anxiety—which is never good; the sweating on his hands and the back of his neck, and the pressure on his chest whenever your presence comes.
He was only reminded of the term romance when he consulted Sigewinne about it.
“Does it only happen around a certain person, Monsieur?” “Monsieur, I think you are simply in love,” she says. “Humans do tend to have the same symptoms but it does not necessarily mean you are sick. It appears to me that you feel the same as well. Does their presence give you happiness?”
He did not even need to ponder over his answer. What he does ponder over is how he should deal with it. The evidence is overwhelming, and there is only one verdict. And yet, where does this lead to?
Contrary to popular belief, he will confess as soon as he is sure of his feelings. He is an honest and honorable man. He would confess his feelings if he could, but it did take some time knowing how busy his schedule was.
The only thing that probably was able to push him to go through was the Melusines. It took them weeks to have him clear his schedule up for a nice little dinner date that they had planned and suggested to the Monsieur.
“Recently, I have come to realize that I have developed a romantic interest with you, Y/n.”
“I do not intend to put pressure on you. I shall accept whatever judgment you make. I do not wish for you to change how you treat me in any way.”
“If you may… I can only ask to indulge in this meal with you for tonight. Your company eases me greatly.”
Brutally honest. It may even drive you crazy how this all seems so easy on him.
But in reality, his palms were sweating underneath his gloves and the slightly cool sensation of the utensils as he blurts out his intentions for setting up such an occasion. His heart was pounding but he could not process whether this was about how you looked especially good tonight or his nervousness with finally confessing his feelings for you.
Or maybe both. Either way, all evidence of such leads to only one thing—you.
Bonus; I do think he’ll reveal who he is first before he gets into a relationship with you but that really depends on how observant you are.
(During)
It was a surprise to him, at the very least, how he had managed to keep you as his lover despite what he lacks. He knew how he was not well-versed with “feelings” per se (just in his mind), but you, the angel that you’ve always been, chose to be with him.
The sudden change did not occur to him much, actually. But he did notice how much his mind lingers to you more often than not, and how he will end up recalling how you are now his one and only lover.
It takes time for him to adjust, but it all started with frequent conversations (much more than before), then sending flowers to your place every other day (constantly), though most of the time they’re delivered by someone else, knowing how busy he is as the Chief Justice.
Or when he started to first brush his gloved fingers to yours.
When he does something, it will be constant. (Maybe this also comes from being responsible and disciplined as shown by being the Chief Justice). All the things that he did before, he still does them now—unless you’ve told him no, of course.
He is definitely a man of his honor!!
And would always ask for your permission first before he touches your hand, or holds them, or hugs you, or kisses you.
He does like pampering and showering you with “offerings” though.
Stuff like buying your favorite flowers or trinkets once or twice a week, making sure you have enough supply of the best water out there. And even with how he always has an umbrella or parasol for you (ones he got ever since you got together; one in his office, one that’s foldable for him to carry under his coat, and one he gave to you for every time you leave the house.
Through the course of the relationship, he learned about the beauty of life, which is how he sometimes brings you flowers despite its short life. However, he still secretly prefers giving you trinkets for your hoard of gifts from him, mostly because it symbolizes his everlasting love for you. (He’s very romantic like that, even if he does not know he is)
He will also introduce every single Melusine in Fontaine. At first, it may surprise you how he knows all of their names, but it will surprise you even more the moment you realize you could do the same. If you do, he’ll love you even more (which he thought was impossible at first as he knew he already loves you very much).
The Melusines will treat you as their other parent the moment it is known amongst all of them that you’re his lover. Sigewinne, for one, would always give you a personalized gift. She would also always send you letters to ask how you are and probably be quite excited whenever you accept an invitation for a cup of tea.
Monsieur Neuvillete is not jealous, but he is possessive and territorial. It’s a dragon instinct, forgive him.
It also comes with being protective. Though he’s not feral, he would make sure to always shield you away from any harm, or anything that might take you away.
One time, he had to deal with a bunch of… shameless individuals who had tried to make a move on you, and though he has great trust on you, he cannot help but have the same self-deprecating voices in the back of his mind.
Though instinctively, he finds himself buying you trinkets or flowers again.
“Hm? You just gave me one earlier, didn’t you?” You look up with a confused look but still hold that smile that stirs butterflies in his chest.
He nodded. “The flowers reminded me of you, mon amour. I could not help but feel the urge to give it to you.”
It does not stop him from giving you offerings.
Of course, he cannot just give up on you. The ruling of whoever deserves your love and affection the most. Of course, he is at an advantage knowing that he’s already your lover.
“Is there something wrong?” You looked up to him, hearing the pitter patter of the rain outside through the taps on the windows. You had your hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them with your palms.
“It’s nothing, mon cœur, no need to worry.” He flashes you a reassuring smile, and yet, at the back of his mind, he wondered how you could have thought to check on him. Is it perhaps the gloominess in the atmosphere?
You frown as you look at him intently, “There are times when you’d shower me gifts with a saddened look on you. I’m worried, is all.”
He stares at you then. Ah, so you noticed, he thought.
He chuckles as he shakes his head and stands right next to you. “May I?” He opens his arms and you nod and dive right into his chest. He enclosed you into an embrace, relishing the feeling of your warmth.
He kisses your forehead then. “Allow me to bask in your presence for a while.”
For short, one of the best. Definitely a 100/10.
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bdaycurse · 6 months
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“Breathe” -Joel Miller
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Summary: You have a panic attack, and you’re all alone. You need someone, and the only person you can think of is the grumpiest, most intimidating man at the QZ, Joel Miller.
Pairing: Fem!reader x Joel Miller
Contains: Pre-Ellie, you and Joel are at the QZ, <TW: sa attempt, but nothing happens> panic attacks, anxiety, soft!joel, comfort, angst, fluff of course, you and Joel's relationship can be romantic or platonic whatever you prefer, you have a tragic backstory sorry :(
A/N: Hello beautiful people!! First of all, I just wanted to thank you guys for all the love for my other fics!! I really appreciate you guys!! Secondly, panic attacks fucking suck, and this fic is what I would imagine if Joel Miller was there to provide comfort. I hope this gives healing to anyone who needs it. I hope you guys enjoy!! :-)
“Sweet precious girl. I got you. You’re safe,” Joel mumbled in your hair.
You held onto him tightly as well as grasping onto his shirt. His big arms were just around you, gently swaying you from side to side. You were shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe. You felt you were suffocating.
“I’m- I’m sor- sorry. I’m sorry,” you sobbed. This was all you could manage to say. You felt like a fucking burden. Joel tightens your hug bringing you closer to him.
“Shhhh. No, baby. Don’t apologize.”
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It's happening again.
Your cloudy thoughts and bad memories have taken over your physical body. It feels like they have possessed you. You started trembling and panting. The world feels like it's ending and collapsing. Your chest slowly brews into a tremendous amount of pain, feeling like you're having a heart attack, and you feel like you can't catch your breath. Everything seems like it's closing in on you, and you feel like you're dying.
I'm dying. I'm dying. I'm dying.
You were in your room at the QZ and desperately needed someone. Someone to hold you, protect you, and tell you everything is going to be okay. You did not have any friends or family. It was just you. It has always been just you. You lived by yourself at the QZ. Your family died a long time ago, leaving you. Witnessing their deaths in front of you has haunted you ever since. You needed someone, anyone. You couldn't even think straight. Your mind and heart are going 200 miles per hour. You started pacing around your room bumping into your furniture. Tears started streaming down your face.
"God, help me. God, please, please," you panted.
You thought of anyone you could go to at the QZ, and the one person you can think of is Joel Miller. He looked scary and mean and looked like he could break you like a twig, but you know he had a good heart. You and Joel have a complicated relationship.
~~~~~~~~~~
Your first interaction was back when you were a new member at the QZ, and as you were walking at night, a man followed you back to your place and jumped you.
"What do you think you're doing out here so late beautiful?" the man slurred his words giving you an unsettling grin.
You immediately panicked. He held you on the ground, and you felt helpless. You were screaming for help, and not even 5 seconds later a big broad man came and threw him off you. You thought it was one of the soldiers who heard your cries, but it turned out to be a normal-looking civilian. It was Joel Miller. Joel fought him and beat him up effortlessly. The man fell to the ground on his back, and Joel punched him over and over again. It felt like it lasted forever. The man was a bloody mess, you could barely recognize his face anymore. Joel then grabs onto the front of the man's bloody shirt.
"If I ever see you touch her again or anyone else here, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me?" Joel snarled. The man was barely conscious and didn't respond.
"I SAID DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME?!" Joel yells at the man's face. Hearing him yell that loudly made you flinch a little. The man could barely speak, but he let out a noise letting Joel know he understood. And with that, Joel gives him a final punch knocking him out cold. Joel was panting heavily with bloody fists and looked up at you. You felt like you should be frightened by him, but you weren't. You felt safe, protected, and you never felt that way in your entire life. You didn't know him, but you wanted to be near him always.
"Go home," Joel commands to you. You just look at him, not even moving. You just wanted to stay with him.
"NOW!" he yelled. You immediately got up and ran back to your place as fast as you could not looking back.
Ever since that night, you always stayed near wherever Joel was. You felt like a stalker, but it made you feel secure being close to him. You had no one, and even if you guys have never talked, you felt like you had him in an odd way.
Joel is very observant, so when he realized you were always within his distance, which he found out pretty quickly, he walked up to you without any warning.
"Why do you keep following me?" Joel asked. His voice was low and gruff. Seeing him close up to you made you realize just how bigger he was than you. He looked intimidating and was definitely a man to stay away from, but he didn't scare you. His confrontation was a shock to you, and you didn't really know what to say.
"I- I- um," you stuttered. Joel raises one of his eyebrows to you waiting for an answer.
"I just," you put your head down not being able to meet his eyes. "I don't know," you said quietly.
"Tell me." He was not going to leave you alone until he got an answer.
You still couldn't make eye contact with him.
"You just... make me feel safe," you answered him with a tint of blush appearing on your cheeks because you were embarrassed. You looked up at him, and when you saw his eyes, they softened. Joel then gives a sigh.
"I have my own shit I need to take care of. This place is fucked up, and I can't protect you always. You know that, right? You were only just lucky I was around that night," Joel tells you. You understand where he was coming from. You didn't even know him, and he didn't know you. You just need to be more careful and find a way to protect yourself.
You give him a small nod and tell him, "I understand. I'm sorry I was following you."
"No, it's fine darlin'. Just don't depend on me," Joel tells you.
Darlin'.
He then backs away from you ready to leave.
"Well, I'll see ya around." Joel then turns and walks away, but you didn't want that to be your final interaction with him.
"Wait," you say making him turn back to you.
"Can we maybe... get to know each other at least?" you asked. You were hoping to build some sort of relationship with him. Joel looked hesitant. He definitely looked like a very damaged closed-off man, and you wouldn't be surprised if he refused and pushed you away. Joel looked at you longingly. He was ready to say no, but he saw you as a scared lonely girl and almost felt sorry for you. It was like leaving a stray kitten to live on its own without taking it home. He finally gave in and sighed loudly.
"Fine. We can," Joel replied and then walked away. You grew a small smile. You finally have a person to talk to, and ever since, you had a complicated relationship with a complicated man.
~~~~~~~~~
Joel. Joel. Joel. You needed Joel. He was the only person who could make you feel better. Your chest was still killing you, and you still felt like you couldn't breathe. You ran out of your door pacing to Joel's place. Everything felt like it was spinning, and you couldn't really decipher where you were going. You were running into people, not caring that you were. The only priority was getting to Joel.
After a while, you finally arrived at Joel's place and frantically knocked on his door multiple times. You were still freaking out and panicking and every second Joel doesn't answer the door you would panic even more.
Please be there, please be there, please be there.
The door then swung open and there he was. Without warning him or asking permission, you just go past him going inside his place. You were pacing not knowing how to think or what to say. You then looked at Joel, and he looked very concerned at your state.
"Hey, hey. What's wrong, sweetheart?" Joel asked softly.
Sweetheart.
You never heard his voice this soft before. He was always so grumpy and brooding, so it was different hearing him this way. You couldn't even speak.
"I- I- I. I can't. I can't. Joel-" you panted. You ran your hands through your hair uncontrollably, and you were out of breath. You didn't know what to do. Joel then got closer to you. He wanted to touch you and comfort you, but he wanted to be careful and not upset you even more.
"Okay, breathe. Breathe. You're okay, baby. Just breathe," Joel tells you.
Baby.
You couldn't breathe. It was still so hard to do.
"I- I can't. Joel, I can't bre- breathe," you whimpered, gasping for air. Joel still tries to reassure you. He may not know exactly what is going on with you, but he may have an idea. He knows a panic attack when he sees one because he gets panic attacks too. He knows the feeling.
"Hey, it's okay. Look at me. Just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in 1...2...3...4, and hold it. You got it," Joel tells you. Even though it felt impossible to breathe, you listened to him and attempted to breathe in, but you just couldn't.
"I- I ca- can't Joel. I can't. I'm dying. I think I'm- I'm dying," you panted. You still felt panicked, and the horrible feeling would just not go away. On top of that, your chest was still killing you. Joel then leans down reaching eye level and holds your face gently with his rough hands.
"You're not dying," Joel reassures you.
"Are- are you s-sure?" you whimpered.
"I promise, sweetheart. You're just having a panic attack. I get ‘em too. You're going to be okay. Just try again with me. Breathe in 1...2...3...4," Joel tells you, and he's breathing in, trying to show you how to breathe. You tried again, and you started to breathe in for 4 seconds as he was telling you. You hold in your breath.
"Atta girl. Now, breathe out for 1...2...3...4," Joel says, and he is breathing out with you. You felt his thumb softly caress your cheek, which made you feel calm down just a little bit.
"You're doing so good baby. Let's do this again. Breathe in for 1...2...3...4, and hold for 1...2...3...4." You did as he says, and slowly started to calm down. You guys repeated this about 6 more times, and you felt yourself relaxing. Your chest was still hurting you, but you felt like you could breathe again. Joel looks at you softly while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"You okay, darlin'?" Joel asks. You couldn't help yourself, but you just broke down. Tears started streaming down your face. You hated this feeling. It was fucking horrible, and you genuinely thought you were dying. Seeing you like this broke Joel's heart.
"Oh, babygirl. C'mere. C'mere," Joel says softly. He then embraces you into his chest hugging you. You hug him back, not ever wanting him to let go. For the first time in your life, you finally felt safe. You felt safe in his arms. You just sobbed onto his chest.
“Sweet precious girl. I got you. You’re safe,” Joel mumbled in your hair.
You held onto him tightly as well as grasping onto his shirt. His big arms were just around you, gently swaying you from side to side. You were shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe. You felt you were suffocating.
“I’m- I’m sor- sorry. I’m sorry,” you sobbed. This was all you could manage to say. You felt like a fucking burden. Joel tightens your hug bringing you closer to him.
“Shhhh. No, baby. Don’t apologize.”
You just held onto him, while he held onto you. You had never seen him be so gentle before. It makes you wonder what Joel was like before the outbreak. Was he sweet or was he mean? He never talked about his past. Every time you would ask about him, he would always brush it off or just stay silent. You knew he was going to be a complicated man from the very beginning, and you felt like you would never figure him out.
Minutes have gone by, and Joel was still holding onto you, not daring to let you go until you felt better. Your cries slowly started to quiet down, and your chest pain faded away. Feeling Joel holding you felt like no one and nothing could ever hurt you because he's there. You knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you, even if he didn't want to admit it. Joel noticed you stopped shaking, and your sobs started to die down. He stopped holding you and held your face. He gently wipes your tears with his thumbs and looks at you with his soft eyes.
"You want to stay here tonight?" Joel asks. You never thought he would ask that. He never let you stay over. He would always kick you out when the sun goes down. You were taken aback by his question, but you wanted to stay with him. You always wanted to stay with him. You give a small nod, looking at him with your big red puffy eyes.
"Yes."
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Thank you all for reading!! I hope you all enjoyed!! 💋
Check out my other fics if you guys would like to read them! -->
"The Wolf and the Lamb" -Javier Peña (+18)
"Untouchable" - Javier Peña
Javier Peña as your boyfriend pt. 1
Javier Peña as your boyfriend pt. 2
Javier Peña as your boyfriend pt. 3
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p1utofairy · 7 months
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PAC: “i just wanna be your favorite…” ⭐️🎀💍
• which fictional characters is your person most like?
disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i also just wanna say thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the support <3 it means so much to me. enjoy!
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pile 1 💸 —
"i can't wait 'til i get you on the floor, good-looking. hey, going hot, so hot, just like an oven. and ow! burned myself, i just had to touch it. but it's so fire, and it's all mine."
hiii pile 1! let me start off by saying your person is one fineeee m'fer! they look straight out of an old hollywood movie. suit & tie by justin timberlake ft. jay z won't stop playing in my head lol, their vibe is literally that song. they're gonna love taking you out to fun events and showing you off to people hehe i heard "trophy wife." this isn't in a superficial way by any means, they just really love how you look and how bright your personality shines. you have a mesmerizing appearance and an extraordinary personality to match. i feel like your eyes or their eyes is another main focus that will garner lots of compliments. ok, wow. back to the topic at hand! the characters i channeled were jay gatsby from ‘the great gatsby’, lon hammond from ‘the notebook’, and napoleon solo from ‘the man from U.N.C.L.E.’ now of course your person may not exactly look like these characters but the ✨vibes✨ are very much there. you're gonna have the time of your life with this person lol they are so damn fun and charismatic. i can hear them teasing you and and saying "don't be a brat, baby." with a sly smirk on their face LOL they're gonna make you feel so tingly and giddy inside ahhh. i feel like it was hard for them to settle down before you came into their life pile 1. they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. i mean this person could honestly have whatever they want, but you actually make them work for this relationship and they're not used to that. people (romantically and platonically) just fall for them at the drop of a dime because they are just so damn sexy, and it doesn't help that they're good with their words and actions. i just heard smooth operator by sade and ego by beyoncé at the same time lol this person is seriously a charmer! they can't help it though, they just love to socialize and have a good time. on the flip side, this sometimes weighs them down. the constant attention and socializing can make them feel overwhelmed at times. i'm thinking of ‘the great gatsby’ when jay kept throwing elaborate parties and inviting thousands of people to attend them, so that he could eventually catch daisy's attention. i'm hearing "when you're happy, they're happy!" random thought, but for some of you…your person could be from the UK/have a thick british accent. i also feel like your person is funny af, they've got jokes for dayssssss. they honestly take nothing serious…like if either of you had a bad day at work or just in general, TRUST that they will find a way to turn it around. like it'll actually amaze you how they just go through life vibing and you'll just be like how??? and i can hear them saying "i don't know, babe. i just got it like that." lol they're so cocky (but in an annoyingly hot way) you will never be able to stay mad at them. like if you were being petty and giving them the silent treatment for whatever reason…i can see you getting ready and they'd come up all close behind you, arms around your waist, kissing your neck and they'd be like "you still mad at me, baby?" and your brain would literally malfunction like €|>~€\€,\!|!]€]€YESNOYESNO.!:!,&:’ i'm crying this is hilarious. never a dull moment with them, pile 1. i'm telling ya!
other channeled messages:
theme from new york, new york by frank sinatra, gene kelly, tuxedo, her way by partynextdoor, sophisticated, expensive cologne, j'adore dior, pearly white teeth, cartier watch, swarovski crystals, meet me on the dance floor, babydoll by mariah carey, british, sprinter by dave & central cee, love island, damson idris, i'll make it happen, ballin’ by partynextdoor, diamonds are a girl's best friend
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pile 2 💣 —
“who wants that perfect love story anyway, anyway. cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché. who wants that hero love that saves the day, anyway cliché, cliché, cliché, cliché.”
okayyyy pile 2, i see y'all with the bonnie and clyde vibes! let's buckle down and get serious though. i already feel like your person is very misunderstood. they might've had a rough childhood growing up or possibly struggled with connecting to their family. they feel like they fuck things up? they kinda think to themselves "why should i even try to be in a relationship, i'm a mess. i mess things up." it's actually sad because i feel like they're a great person (very soft and gentle) and when things go left/don't work out they immediately blame themselves because the blame was always put on them as a child. i'm hearing it's a "trauma response" :( aw pile 2 i feel like crying…your person really takes it on the chin and keeps it pushing. i can see them sitting on porch steps, gazing at the skyline and kinda just shrugging saying "that's just life i guess." they tend to self-sabotage before things even go into motion but before you two meet, they'll be pushed to confront their problems/fears. they have this cool, in-control, idgaf type of vibe on the outside but internally it's the opposite. i'm hearing pretty little fears by 6lack ft. j cole wow pile 2 they'll really have a soft spot for you. the characters i channeled were damon salvatore from ‘the vampire diaries’, luke glanton from ‘the place beyond the pines’ and tyler durden from ‘fight club’ which are some pretty complex personalities whew. your person is a loner by default, they feel like they really can't depend on many people. they've been left out in the cold so many times it's like they had no other choice but to become independent fast. when they meet you, pile 2…you're going to awaken them. i'm hearing j cole's verse in pretty little fears, “i'm loving your light, vulnerable. letting your guard down is honorable. 'specially when the past ain't been that friendly to you, but…there's magic in that.” it's gonna be insane to them how someone like you could display so much love, care and devotion towards them. i can see them keeping a really cute picture of you (or you two together) in their wallet/bag and just staring at it with a small smile on their face. you give them so much hope pile 2. they never knew they were capable of such strong emotions; love, happiness, joy. i can see you two laughing about something…you have this big grin on your face and when you turn your head to look at them, you just see them with a dopey smile on their face and a glint in their eyes just staring at you in awe. and you're just like "what?" but you don't even know how much you really mean to them in that moment. I'M ABOUT TO BURST INTO TEARS PLS I CAN'T. they're not used to anything stable, but you give them hope and anticipation for their future…with you. y'all are going to have to have so many enlightening, deep and forward-thinking conversations. i see them holding your hand and kissing your knuckles, taking random drives at night together while blasting music and going to the movies and talking/debating afterwards about what you hated and what you loved. k i'm crying, bye!
other channeled messages:
west coast by lana del rey, west side, successful relationship, turning tables by adele, cigarettes out the window by tv girl, well my boyfriend's in a band, ultraviolence album, someone like u (interlude) by ariana grande, toxic upbringing, scorpio moon, aries, smoking weed, american psycho, it's a forever thing
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pile 3 🐚 —
“every little thing you do got me feeling some type of way. when you gimme that thunder you make my summer rain.”
welcome to your reading pile 3! idk why i wanted to say pile 333 hehe let's take that as a sign that you're about to meet your person soon. your person is so easy-going…like their energy feels so carefree and warm; like a nice summer breeze (i feel like some of you that chose this pile watch/really love the summer i turned pretty) i can see your person adjusting their sunglasses and saying "i'm just happy to be here." they're such a vibe lol. ok and why did i just randomly hear "no you're cute jeans." their sense of humor is so sjhfjdjcjdsn y'all are gonna have a lot of inside jokes together; internet memes especially. that "i'm sorry, i'm just in a silly goofy mood" shemar moore video just popped up in my head LMFAOOOO your person is hilarious pile 3. i channeled johnny storm from ‘fantastic four’, chad meeks-martin from ‘scream vi’, stefan salvatore from ‘the vampire diaries’ and conrad fisher from ‘the summer i turned pretty’ which are all pretty different but i see the vision pile 3…i see the vision. i feel like your person has just gotten back to themselves, because for awhile they weren't this upbeat and silly. i feel like this has to do with a past hurt/betrayal from either a friend or an ex-lover…that person took them for granted and made them feel small. i just randomly heard "katherine pierce" so maybe that person was very sneaky and never had good intentions in the first place. when they're with you though, they feel like a moth drawn to a flame. best friend by 50 cent just came to mind, "if i was your best friend, i want you 'round all the time. (i want you 'round me all the time) girl, i'll be your best friend if you promise you'll be mine (girl, promise you'll be mine)." i see you both posting funny photo dumps of you two together on instagram/instagram stories. i feel like y'all will be a PDA couple, and even if you aren't one of those type of people that likes all that…they're definitely gonna make you so happy that people visibly see the love between the two of you. i can see them kissing the side of your head, you slightly leaning into them…them giving you their hoodie/jacket to wear when you're cold. it's subtle things like that 🥹 so so so cute. you two have a very sacred, beautiful and divinely protected relationship. your person will be very generous with their time, money and love when it comes to you pile 3.
other channeled messages:
there goes my baby by usher, one in a million by ne-yo, connie baby, it's your world i'm just living in it, positions by ariana grande, unlock it by charlie xcx ft. kim petras & jay park, right my side by nicki minaj ft. chris brown, long walks on the beach, forever boy, vintage camera/digital camera, breakin’ my heart (pretty brown eyes) by mint condition, taylor swift, peter parker
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pile 4 🌹—
“moment of honesty. someone's gotta take the lead tonight, who's it gonna be? i'm gonna sit right here and tell you all that comes to me. if you have something to say, you should say it right now.”
heyyy pile 4. i'm kinda stunned rn cause your person is sooooooooo captivated by you. like they wanted to skip all the bullshit and get right into it, and honestly…i #respect it. they think you're an absolute badass, you handle tough situations with so much grace. i'm hearing "you're better than me." lol they play no games pile 4, especially when it comes to you! i'm hearing that you've been through a lot, and it hasn't been easy for you to get to the point in your life that you're at now. they just wanna kiss you and make everything better. kiss it better by rihanna just started playing, "kiss it, kiss it, better baby." yeah your person is sensual af pile 4, it's givingggg taurus vibes. this is random af but i feel like they really love your back? if you wear a backless top or a backless dress, they will go absolutely FERAL. like fingers ghosting down your spine, their lips kissing down your neck…and don't get me started on the eye contact. their gaze is INTENSE. i’m hearing lyrics from nobody by selena gomez, "no kiss, no lips, no feel, no rush can keep me high, i swear no one…can love me like you do. can love me like you do, no." the characters i channeled were tobias eaton from ‘divergent’ and anakin skywalker from ‘star wars prequel trilogy’ which is so on brand. those 2 did not play about tris and padmé, ok?! you are their whole world pile 4. if it's not you, they don't want it. they feel so relaxed around you…like they can finally breathe. i can see them standing in a serious stance (obviously tense af) pondering about something and you just come behind them and wrap them in a big bear hug and they just…melt. they finally take that deep breath that they didn't even realize they were holding in for so long. they usually keep their feelings to themselves, but you create such a great safe space for them to be so open, honest and vulnerable; and vice versa. i'm also hearing that they are a very hands-on type of person, so whatever you need done/fixed, they sure as hell will find a way to do it for you. i can also see you two chilling/relaxing together a lot. don't get me wrong this person will always find something for you two to do, but there's something about that downtime (watching a movie while cuddled up with you on the couch, spending time with you and your loved ones/friends or taking a late night drive with you) that makes them think to themselves, "damn i really love life." 😮‍💨 you've got them locked in pile 4. it's so sweet & amazing.
other channeled messages:
1 of 1, peppers by lana del rey ft. tommy genesis, skywalker by miguel ft. travis scott, adore by cashmere cat ft. ariana grande, it's us against the world baby, 90210, pisces, dream guy, sauvage cologne, miss dior, sagittarius rising, virgo's groove by beyoncé, 1:11, best i ever had (remix) by drake & nicki minaj, all i want is you by miguel ft. j cole, bouquet of flowers, tennis bracelet, wild thoughts by dj khaled ft. rihanna & bryson tiller, cpr by summer walker
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bradshawsbitch · 10 months
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‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎» ‎𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮
⁘ amongst salt water skin and silken sheets lies insecurities and innocence, but also tenderness and a willingness to learn...
› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader
prompt; ❝  well,  honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me.  ❞ and  ❝  don’t be nervous,  i’ll guide you through it.  ❞
word count; ~ 6.1K
× chapter warnings; loss of virginity, virginity as a normative concept, p in v sex, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot, creampie, hair tugging, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption(?) if you squint maybe, rooster is a consent king
request; by @diorrfairy. I'm so sorry this took so long my love 🫶
disclaimer; I was rather torn with how I wanted this fic to go. on one hand I wanted it to be how I wished my first time was, yet I did not want to accidentally make it seem as if this is how a 'first time' is supposed to be, if that makes sense. I therefore tried to make it realistic in the way I experienced sex for the first time, but still making it softer, and sweeter, and the way I figure I'd want a first time with someone you love to be. for me sex hurt the first like five times but also my first bf was 6'5 and he was fucking huge so like yeehaw.
tagging people who might like; @roleycoleyland @roosterforme @lewmagoo @theharddeck @seresinsweetie @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts
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Being with Bradley was easy. It was sunny, comfortable, and safe. The soft gaze of the aviator could turn your knees weak in a heartbeat. The way he touched you, the way he listened and understood you - and most of all, the way he never pushed you harder than needed to explore new things if you didn’t want to.
Previously, in all relationships you’d had - whether platonic or romantic, you found that people pushed you. Pushed you to participate in things you maybe weren’t entirely ready for, or didn’t wholly feel comfortable with. Like the first time you got drunk, even though you’d told your friends you’d rather just try one beer and then drink soda. 
Bradley, however, understood the need for you to feel comfortable and safe. He understood that you needed time to contemplate, to reflect, and to sort of turn and twist an event in your mind a few times before throwing yourself headfirst into it. 
So, when the two of you started getting serious, and you, with heat rising to your face, confessed that you ‘hadn’t done much’ in the sexual department, his amber gaze had softened. He’d smiled softly, cradled your cheek in one of his large palms, and placed a tender kiss upon your lips as he promised to take everything in the pace you deemed appropriate.
He wasn’t in a hurry, he’d said before enveloping you in his arms, letting you nuzzle your face into his chest and his safe embrace. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong arms and hands holding you so delicately, you truly felt safe in his promise not to rush anything.
Bradley had not quite understood your timidness when telling him about not having too much experience. He figured maybe you’d fooled around a little in college with some boys or girls, but that you hadn’t had too many mind blowing sexual encounters. As beautiful and kind as you were, Rooster had a hard time imagining anything else. However, his mother had raised him to always respect a ladies wishes - however small or big that wish was, and he was nothing if not a caring soul himself. He always wanted you to feel safe with him, wanted you to feel you could confide in him, and lay worries and hardships for him to carry with you. 
Which was why he was perfectly content to spend lazy afternoons making out with you straddled on his lap, only sneaking in a squeeze of your ass sporadically - keeping his hands placed gently on your waist, only ever letting them grace slowly upwards to your ribcage and to the wire of your bra. The small little noises you made drove him wild, but he wouldn’t be the person to push you. No, Bradley was more than willing to wait until you asked him to touch you. 
However, as compassionate and patient a man as Bradley was - he was also a little insecure. He had never felt the way he did with you, and he was glad that you both seemed to be on the same page of slowly cherishing each other’s comfort. Felt secure in that this was something you both felt was something special.
Your relationship was not something that needed to be rushed, because both of you felt that this might be it. But one human can only take so many rejections before they start to wonder if it was something that they did wrong. Had he been pushy? Had he made you feel so uncomfortable that even after months of dating you didn’t want him? Or was it simply the fact that you didn’t find him attractive or arousing enough?
These thoughts swirled and tainted the most noble of intentions within Bradley. He so badly wanted you to feel the way he did about you, that it somewhat clouded his perception. Every sweet, bashful smile as you pulled away from him turned into a confirmation that there was something he was doing wrong.
Perhaps you were not a person who wanted what he wanted. He would be okay with that if that were the case, but as he pondered these possibilities in bed after a particularly nice day at the beach with you, he realized that the best way to go about it was to talk about it. 
He smiled as he reminisced on your walk, feet bare in the sand. His heart did double-time as he remembered the way your eyes sparkled, and the way you’d pulled on his hand to draw him into the water with you. Covered in sand and salt water, the two of you had spent the majority of the day in each other's arms (when you were not indulged in very serious bouts of splashing wars) before retreating to Bradley’s home. 
Which was how Bradley found himself perched on his bed after a nice shower to wash away the sand and salt, feeling content with the conclusion he had come to. The water was still running, as you were washing away the day as well, further fuelling Bradley’s thoughts. He was torn from them when you emerged, clad in a large, white, oversized silken button-up. It was rather old, and some of the buttons were missing. Your skin looked soft as it gleamed in the glow of the evening light. Looking at you, Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he raised his arms to signal he wanted you near. 
Mimicking his smile, you happily straddled his lap, making yourself comfortable before holding up a small container that Rooster hadn’t noticed before. 
“What’s that?” his voice was low, as if the energy of the room shouldn’t be disturbed by loud talking. Fingertips dipped into white cream, before gently ghosting across the skin of his face. 
“It’s to soothe the skin, baby,” you explained softly, massaging the cool cream onto Bradley’s warm face. He hummed in reply, letting his hands grasp your hips, running his thumb up and down over the soft silken material. His eyes fluttered shut as you carefully made sure that every surface of his skin was carefully covered, even going down to cover his throat and neck. 
“All done.” was whispered against his lips, punctured by the soft feel of your plush lips upon his. Your chest had fallen closer to his bare upper body, and the small container now found its resting place on his nightstand as your hands splayed on his pecs and shoulders. 
You deepened the kiss, your tongue curiously exploring and wetting Bradley’s lips before meeting his own tongue slowly. Bradley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as you pressed closer to him, your tongue so languidly moving with his own, couldn’t help gripping  your hips just a little tighter at the small noises you were emitting whilst hesitantly rolling your hips against his grown hard-on. 
“Sweets…” Bradley rasped, breaking the kiss. Normally, you would look down and look bashful, but this time your lips traveled across his jaw, fluttering over his pulse point as you hummed in acknowledgement. As you reached a particularly sensitive point and nipped softly, Bradley let out a low moan, his hands moving up your waist before they skimmed back down to let them rest on the globes of your ass. Kneading and grasping he groaned again, not noticing the way you had stopped kissing his neck. 
Tensing ever so slightly, you sat up from your position, looking down as nerves fluttered restlessly in your stomach.
“Honey,” Bradley’s voice was soft “talk to me, please. Am I doing something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?” his fingers gently asked you to look him in the eye from their place at your chin. Blinking, a small crease formed between your brows. 
“N-no, never! I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.” the answer came to you easy, spilling truthfully from your lips as you looked into your boyfriend’s amber eyes. 
“Why do you ask that?” 
“I can feel how tense you are sometimes when we’re like this… you always pull away from me darlin’, and I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, okay? You can tell me anything. If I’ve done something, or if you just don’t feel like ever doing anything– or if I’m not, y’know, doing enough to turn you on–” he was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t stop; his worries and anxieties coming out in a way he didn’t want them to. He was almost thankful when you cut him off.
“Bradley, do you think I don’t want to have sex with you because you don’t turn me on enough?” if you weren’t feeling nervous butterflies in your stomach at the aspect of actually feeling ready for taking this step with Bradley, you would have laughed. 
“I don’t know… Maybe? Mostly I’ve been worried that I have made you feel unsafe with me. Or that I’ve done something to make you feel as if you don’t want that part of our relationship like that,” it was Bradley’s turn to look bashful. Saying it out loud always made you realize how bizarre some of your thoughts could sound. 
“Honey…” you smiled, leaning into your boyfriend again “I– I just… you know I told you how I haven’t done much?” Bradley nodded. 
“Of course. I am in no way trying to rush you - I totally understand you may have had other experiences with sex before that makes this uncomfortable and–”
“No, Bradley.” you groaned “you don’t understand–” sighing, you paused for a moment. Maybe it would be better to spell it out. “well… honestly, I’ve never really had sex before–” 
Silence hung between two lovers, Bradley’s brows raising slightly in surprise, a feeling of deep guilt settling uncomfortably in his chest. 
“Honey… I am so sorry. I never meant– I mean, I figured you must have, you’re so out of this world beautiful…” Bradley looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I’m sorry, my darling, I just wanted to know if there was something I had done - I will wait for as long as you need,” he straightened up to place his lips upon yours in a soft kiss. 
Shaking your head, you broke the kiss, smiling softly at him. 
“And– I was kinda hoping you would teach me,” you finished your interrupted sentence, letting your fingers sneak into the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, tugging and twirling strands of hair there to ease your nerves. Again, Bradley looked at you with such adoration and love that it nearly took your breath away. His hands were back to soothingly rubbing your sides and hips, the way he held you making you feel precious and secure. 
“Darling…” his voice was low but riddled with unspoken emotions, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want okay. I’m not going anywhere.” his assurance meant the world to you, but you’d felt ready for some time now. 
Mulling it over as you first noticed that when the two of you had ended up entangled in bed, or on the sofa, it didn’t make you feel as panicked as it had in the beginning. It felt exhilarating now. It felt like something you wanted. Something you desperately needed with Bradley. 
“I really want to.” your voice was firm in its choice, and Bradley sat up more from his position reclined against the headrest to be able to place his lips all over your throat. 
“I really want you…” Bradley murmured against your skin as his lips skimmed over the parts he knew had you the most breathless. It drew the tiniest of gasps, followed by a high pitched whimper from you the way he spoke so huskily, so close to your ear, his warm breath momentarily dizzying you. 
“Bradley…” you mewled softly “Please!” Bradley’s head was spinning from the sheer thought of loving you like this, but hearing your sweet plea made his breath hitch in his throat, his hard-on jolting slightly in his boxers at the words. Perhaps he should feel some type of embarrassment over that reaction, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Not when you were perched on his lap, clad in a loose fitting silken shirt, looking like the divines themselves. 
“You say stop and we do, okay?” Bradley searched your eyes, and you nodded, tucking your bottom lip between teeth as anticipation swirled through you. “Gotta hear you say it, honey,” Rooster smirked, reaching up to gently let his thumb draw out your bottom lip from between your teeth. That single act had your breath hitching as he let his thumb trace your lip. 
“I say stop and we stop.” you confirmed and Bradley smiled up at you 
“Good girl.” 
Blinking slowly, you took in the two soft spoken words that had drawn out the most sinful sound from your lips. “Oh, God,” you whispered softly, face heating up in embarrassment. Bradley gently shushed you, before letting his hand inch up your ribcage, his thumbs gracing the underside of your breasts. 
“It’s okay, little dove. It’s normal to react this way, alright? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” his voice was so soft, so soothing, that it made you keen even more, needing him closer to you. 
“You have no idea how much it turns me on to see you react to me like this…” Bradley wanted you to know that there was nothing shameful in the way you were reacting, and he desperately needed you to understand he never wanted you to suppress any sounds or feelings that might arise between the two of you. He wanted to see it all, hear it all, experience you and your love in its purest form. 
His hands wandered ever so slightly further up, gently letting his palm encompass the swell of your breasts in his hands, eyes flitting up to yours to see your reaction to the advancement. Letting out a stuttered breath, you let your head tip back at the sensation of his hands warming the silk against your skin.
As Rooster gently kneaded and pressed against your flesh, another breathy moan spilled from your parted lips. As he let his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipple, you cried out, suddenly feeling the need to move. You rocked hesitantly in Bradley’s lap, and another relieved whine left your lips as his hard-on rubbed against your damp underwear. 
“Fuck, honey… you’re so beautiful,” Bradley grunted out, trying to hold himself back and not grip your hips and grind you harder down on to him. He truly did believe you had never looked as beautiful as you were now, breath labored, skin glowing in the light that managed to flitter into the room, gently rocking against his lap. He whispered praises against your sternum as his hands slowly kneaded your sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning over the exposed skin as the shoulder of your night shirt slid down your arm to reveal your breasts. 
Bradley took his time kissing and loving your chest, his large hands working up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts before letting his tongue flutter over hardened nipples, teasing you as you let out soft, high pitched noises. Your brows were furrowed together, eyelids fluttered closed as you moved your hips down on him, panting slightly from the pleasure of his hard cock brushing your clothed clit every so often. 
“So pretty…” Bradley murmured before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, groaning at the feel of his lips wrapped around your flesh, relishing in the cry it drew from you, reeling at your body reacting by collapsing closer to him, a hand flying to grasp and tug at his hair. You were pulling him closer, and your movement was starting to become a little frazzled as you were overcome by the pleasure Bradley was giving you. 
“Brad–” you were gasping, almost clawing at the back of his head, not sure if you wanted to push him closer to your chest or tug him away. Squirming in your boyfriends’ lap you cried out again, whimpering softly over and over again as you felt his lips release the nipple he had been sucking on, moving to give the other some much needed attention. The cool air against your saliva slick skin had you mewling again. It was all so much, too much, it felt too good, it was dizzying and overwhelming, and Bradley’s hands were touching parts of you you didn’t know were sensitive and–
“Stop!” it was gasped, breathlessly as your eyes shot open, chest heaving before looking down at your boyfriends worried face. 
“Too much?” Bradley cooed, reaching up to let his fingertips grace your cheek. Nodding shyly, you leaned into his touch, face heating at the notion that you needed a break. 
“It– it was too good, I-I couldn’t…” you trailed off, not entirely sure why you had asked him to stop. There had been a pressure building and sparking in you, and it frightened you. The pleasure you felt when the two of you made out, when he touched you, it was tame in comparison. No one else had ever made that… pressure happen before. 
Bradley shushed you softly, licking his lips and smiling softly up at you “S’okay, darling… we’re not in a rush, are we? And if you decide that’s enough for tonight, then that’s alright too.” he assured you, thumbs rubbing against your waist. He couldn’t help that his eyes flickered momentarily to the glistening skin around your breasts, an unfamiliar feeling swirling deep in the pit of his chest at the sight of his saliva marking your skin. It almost made him groan with pleasure, seeing himself on you in any capacity. 
“No, I… I really want you. I truly feel ready, because I’ve been thinking of loving you like this for so long now…” you trailed off, again looking down at where your body sat on top of his, stomach flipping a little as you took in the sun kissed skin of his abs… and that dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. “I just feel a little nervous” you admitted in a whisper, not being able to help the fluttering nerves within your stomach.
“Don’t be nervous… I’ll guide you through it, sweet girl,” Bradley murmured, nudging his nose against yours before letting his lips slowly move with yours, taking his time to let his tongue taste yours, until your arms were once again wrapped around his neck. 
“That’s it… good girl, keep going,” Bradley whispered against your lips as you again hesitantly rolled your hips against him. Soft mewls left you at his words, and Bradley couldn’t help but smiling into the kiss, filing away every reaction to his actions for later. 
“Does that feel good?” he hummed as he gently gripped your hips, helping you find the right angle to let his cock catch at your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The silk of your panties was dark with your slick, and Bradley could soon feel it covering his own underwear too. 
“Yes,” you breathed out, letting your forehead press against his “it– feels funny,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as that pressure started to come back, even stronger now. Bradley hummed low in his throat, one hand making its way between your bodies to put more pressure where you needed it. 
“Bradley!” you gasped, body jolting slightly as his leaking cock head pressed harder against your sensitive clit. “It’s okay, baby… you’re alright, I’ve got you,” Bradley whispered as he kissed right below your ear, not stopping the slow but steady rocking of your hips. 
“I feel like I’m gonna– gonna–” your trembling voice was interrupted by your small gasps and soft moans, again taking your plush bottom lip between your teeth as the sensation grew stronger. 
“You’re doing so good, honey– don’t stop; just let go for me, baby,” it was as if you needed Bradley’s soft guidance and assurance, because as soon as he told you to, you could feel that pressure spiking, before it snapped and shot through your entire body. The pleasure coursed through your veins as you came with a loud cry, followed by small whimpers of Bradley’s name, burrowing your face in his neck as you whined softly and rolled your hips a couple of more times. 
“There you go… such a good girl… are you alright, doll?” he’s murmuring softly and sweetly against your neck, your pulse thudding hard and fast against his warm lips. Lips that have curved slightly upwards as you cling onto him, fingers gripping at his slightly flexed biceps. You nod against his shoulder, placing a languid chaste kiss to his exposed skin. 
“I’m– I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before” heat again spread across your face, and Bradley couldn’t help the way his chest filled with pride, and an unfamiliar emotion that stirred somewhere close to his abdomen. “Did so good, honey. Looked real beautiful for me,” Bradley smiled, gently holding your hair back from your face before pecking your lips. His hands roamed down your body, until his fingers played with the hem of your underwear. Snapping the elastic slightly, making you gasp, he chuckled softly.
“Can I take these off?” nodding, you felt anticipation roll inside you in stormy waves as the two of you moved your bodies so Bradley could take your underwear off. Bradley’s hands kneaded softly at your thighs as you settled back on his lap, his amber eyes searching your worried face. Licking your lips, you took in Bradley’s completely naked form. Sure, you’d seen naked men before, but nothing compared to the golden tan of Bradley’s skin - the ripple of his abs, the dusting of hair that traveled from below his navel to his pubic bone and– oh god. 
You of all people was aware of Bradley’s size. He was tall, muscular, slightly burly, and his strong embrace always made you feel safe - whether he was lifting you and dropping you into the ocean earlier today, or if he made a point of helping you reach something high up (even if you didn’t always need the help) - but you hadn’t really used your imagination to be able to conjure this. Resting, hard as a rock, against his stomach, you wondered silently how on earth he would fit in you. 
“Honey,” Bradley tried to keep from chuckling, smirking, or sounding too smug when he spoke “it’s alright. We’ll go as slow as needed, love. I’ve got you.” and you trusted your boyfriend, you truly did, but still - how? 
As a distraction, Bradley’s ever working hands had snuck upwards, the pads of his fingers now caressing your sensitive clit, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips. “That’s it, relax,” he murmured in encouragement as his fingers gently rubbed at your core, letting his middle finger slip further and further into your heat. 
“Oh!” pitching forward, you rested your forehead against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder, moaning involuntarily at the feeling of Bradley pumping his finger in and out slowly, stretching and preparing you. It felt good, that one finger didn’t yet feel uncomfortable. It was when he added a second one that you whined a little and squirmed against him. His voice soothed you, and as he found a spot within you that had you gasping every time his fingers graced it, you found your hips slowly starting to rock against his rhythm to seek out more of the feeling.
“Bradley…” his name tumbled from your lips in a needy gasp as his lips attached themselves to the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel his hot, wet tongue glide over the skin, his teeth nipping slightly before letting his lips close over the area to gently mark your neck. 
“Yes, sweetheart?” his reply was murmured against your skin, his mustache scratching lightly above your pulse point. “Think I want–” you paused “think I want you now…” it was strange how the words rolled off your tongue, embarrassment filling you up slightly at the admission, even with Bradley’s fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. The soft groan that reverberated from your boyfriend's chest made you squeak slightly in surprise, your walls clenching around his fingers as the sound spurred on your arousal. 
“Alright,” Bradley withdrew from the crook of your neck, where he’d had his face nuzzled, to look you in the eyes, giving you a soft smile as his fingers too withdrew from within you. 
“Do you have any condoms, sweets?” he murmured, tilting his head upwards slightly to place a chaste kiss to your warm cheek. Shaking your head no, you placed a soft kiss to his warm lips, admitting to him that you had been on birth control for some years now. You momentarily worried he might ask why you’d bother with contraceptives if you were a virgin. You’d rather not go into detail about how it can regulate your cycle. He just smiled, eagerly chasing your lips for another kiss as his hands stroked up and down your waist - where your silken shirt had created a halo around your midsection. 
“Tell me again what we’d do if you said a certain word?” Bradley looked into your eyes, his brown ones calm and filled with a serenity you could easily get lost in, as his large hand gently held your chin. Licking your lips, you managed a small smile down at your lover as you sat straddled across his lap, his hard cock leaking precum all over that faint line of hair that drove you absolutely insane with want.
“I say stop and we stop.” 
“Good girl,” at your slight shiver at the deep timbre of his voice, your boyfriend couldn’t keep his smirk at bay, loving how well you responded to his praise. 
Large hands gripped your hips as you rose slightly to your knees, your own hands which had been alternating between gripping Roosters biceps, clinging onto his shoulders, or being wrapped around his neck, now fluttered hesitantly down his chest, over his abdominals and down to that tantalizing little trail… The sound Bradley let out sounded relieved yet also a little strained as you hesitantly let your fingertips grace the underside of his hard cock, following along the prominent vein that ran along it. 
“Should I—” you licked your lips, gaze flickering up momentarily to his “should I touch you, before we..?” Bradley smiled softly and shook his head no “I am embarrassingly close to coming just from seeing you like this honey… it’s alright,” a soft smile spread on your lips as you still let your fingers curiously feel around your boyfriends hard shaft, feeling the ridges and veins, surprised at the silky feel of the warm skin. Humming softly you settled on letting your hands rest upon his shoulders again as he again gripped your hips to guide you into a position he deemed appropriate. 
Bradley’s head was spinning as he positioned his cock against your entrance, gently dragging his swollen head between your slick folds, having to take shallow breaths as he heard your whimpers and mewls. He repeated this motion over and over, ghosting over your hole, alternating between stimulating your clit and the sensitive skin around your heat. Soon enough you were rutting against the underside of his cock, making him slicked with your arousal. 
“Fuck, you feel so good!” Bradley groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to get more of him. “Bradley! Please, please,” you whined, biting down slightly on his skin, drawing a deep moan from his parted lips. He let the very tip of his cock slowly enter you before he withdrew again, sliding his cock up towards your clit again. You had gasped and moaned at the short sensation, and Bradley could tell you thought you could take all of him with the way you were bucking your hips, trying to sink down on him.
“Slow down, baby… I’ll get you there, okay? Can’t take all of me yet…” he murmured against your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before he again lowered you slightly onto his weeping cock, the very tip breaching your core. 
You were panting now, as Bradley stilled your hips on him, this time not withdrawing as he let himself dip slightly deeper into you. Eyes widening, you whined at the sharp sting of his girth stretching you. 
“Shh, honey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” his calm voice grounded you and you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley had done his best to prepare you, and you were thoroughly wet for him - but still, as he gently lowered you deeper onto him, tears sprang from your eyes at the sharp sting of being stretched by him. 
“I’m sorry, love.” Bradley furrowed his brows as he gently guided you to look at him, wiping at the tears that had leaked from your lashes. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, large palm soothingly stroking up and down your spine. 
Even though the sharp sting wasn’t exactly comfortable, the feeling of his warmth, and the feeling of being so full still made your insides vibrate with feelings of love and arousal - a feeling that felt rather paradoxical in relation to the sharp stings you felt whenever you moved. Ultimately you spoke a tiny no, leaning into Bradley, seeking his solace and his safe embrace. Whenever you felt vulnerable, or were hurting, you sought out his safety. 
“Being so brave, little dove… being my good girl,” Bradley cooed, letting his strong arm wrap around you, his other slowly moving downwards, gently letting the pad of his finger rest against your clit as he lowered you a few more inches, until finally you sat flush against him. Biting your lip, your fingertips dug into the skin of Roosters biceps hard as he shushed you and praised you even more, making your stomach flip and your heart stutter in your chest. You had no idea mere words could ignite such a fire within you. 
Speaking softly to you, whispering praise and words of love into your ear, Bradley slowly let his fingertips grace over your back, down your arms, over your thighs, your breasts.. as his thumb gently swiped over your nipple, you let out a needy moan. Gently pinching, he drew out another whimper from you, and your breathing seemed to pick up again as he rolled it between his fingers, his palm massaging and kneading your flesh. 
“S’that feel good, honey?” he smiled as you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip and nodding as you experimentally rolled your hips - scrunching your face up, you whined softly at the feeling of discomfort, which was soothed by Bradley’s quick, distracting hands. 
Letting your lips crash against his, Bradley groaned as he used both hands to knead and pinch at your tits and nipples as you rocked slowly on his cock. Gasping and whimpering, you tried lifting your hips and sinking down again, finding that if you did it ever so slightly, it didn’t sting as much and it actually felt good when the tip of his cock hit that little spot inside you. 
“Bradley!” you whimpered against his lips, his name slightly muffled. After the initial pain, you were reeling from the realization that your boyfriend’s cock was buried in your pussy, and he was letting you ride him slowly. Moaning, you leaned slightly back, taking in the sight before you. In your frenzy, you had messed up his hair, and his eyes were glossy with lust, lips slightly swollen. The setting sun was making his tan skin glow, and the freckles that had formed on his shoulders made him look all the more incredible to you. 
“Fuck, god, you’re so fuckin’ tight… feel fucking incredible, Jesus, baby… I love you,” Bradley’s eyes were rolling upwards as you rode him a little faster, his cock pulsing with every slight movement you made. 
“I love you,” you whispered, the words ghosting over his skin. Bradley let his hands wander from your tits down to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading your asscheeks as you moved up and down on his cock. 
“Can I take over a little, baby?” he murmured into your ear, licking your lips, you nodded quickly, feeling Bradley’s grip on your ass tighten as he lifted and grinded you down against him. A gasp was quickly followed by a loud moan as he angled your hips ever so slightly, making your clit catch on his pubic bone. He sped up slightly, guiding your hips so they rolled and bounced slightly in time with his small thrusts, the head of his cock brushing that spot again and again, making you whimper and keen over and over. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bradley grunted and groaned as he fucked you onto his leaking cock. He was so fucking close, you were gripping and clenching so hard around him, and he was sure he was going to blow his load soon. “Baby you feel so fucking good.. god, this tight little pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock, wasn’t it? Was made to be fucked by me,” Bradley grunted as he babbled, that feeling he felt earlier exploding in his chest at your needy mewls. 
Growling, he took your loud moans as his go ahead to go just a little faster, fuck you just a little deeper. His one forearm wrapped around the curve of your ass as the other snuck up between your shoulder-blades, where he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. A loud cry spilled from your lips as your eyes fluttered close, your body instantly relaxing and going almost limp in his hold as you moaned repeatedly. Growling, Bradley bucked his hips to fuck into you instead of lowering you down on him, and your needy cries made him almost black out with pleasure. 
Soon, he heard you gasping, moaning and crying his name over and over in pleasure. “That’s it honey, tell me who’s making you feel good.. who’s fucking this tight little pussy of yours so good,” his words made your eyes roll back into your head, and with a cry of his name you came for the second time, your slick creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked you through the first orgasm you’d ever experienced with someone inside you. 
Whimpering and mewling, the waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming, it just kept going as Bradley’s cock pumped fast and deep into your wet cunt. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a wet sound that you found rather arousing, and your labored breaths and moans. 
“Babe, god I’m so close,” Bradley moaned, holding you tighter to his chest as he gasped, his cock and balls pulsing with the need to release. “Should I pull out?” he wasn’t all together sure he could. “No!” you whined, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. You’d never felt like this before. Your chest was swirling with the need to keep him close, keep him inside of you, you never wanted him to leave.
“Need you, Brad, need you!” you could barely form a full sentence, your words sounding more like whimpery babbles. At your pleas, Bradley grunted and groaned before he swore loudly, his hips bucking before his cock twitched and his release spurted deep within you. 
Feeling his warm seed spilling in you, your eyes rolled back slightly again as you moaned. Bradley’s whole body was shuddering as he ground you down against him, his balls tightening again and again as he released ropes upon ropes of his cum deep in your pussy. 
Sweaty bodies tangled together as you slumped forward against his heaving chest, your own breath labored and unsteady. Nuzzling into his pecs, you could hear and feel the way his heart beat hard inside his chest. “Love you,” you murmured, kissing at his sternum. Rooster’s large hand caressed the back of your head as you both came down from your highs. 
“Might hurt a little when I pull out…” he murmured against the top of your head, and you let out a dissatisfied whine whilst pouting. 
“Are you okay, honey?” he continued, and you smiled and nodded, feeling perfectly content as you laid in the safe arms of your lover, having just given him all of your love, and receiving all of him and his love back. 
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AHHHHH fuck this one took forever to finish, and i'm not entirely happy with the ending - but i hope someone might enjoy it still<3 please let me know what you think! i'm always open for constructive crit <3
special thanks to coley and em for helping me through my writers block and cheering me on<3
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strwberri-milk · 2 months
Text
Crashed on Shore
AO3 || Rafayel x Reader || Nightmare Comfort || 1, 552 words
a/n: this is totally based off of fragrant dream tender moments audio but instead you guys are acc dating [early relationship] so rafayel can shower you in kisses and share a bed w you romantically not platonically ty
It was just a bottle of perfume - there's no reason it should be stirring up all these emotions in you.
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Rafayel is anxious.
He knows that you’re busy, that sometimes, you can’t reply to his messages as quickly as he hopes you could or that you’ve got other things on your mind. The two of you are still figuring out what it means to be with each other and how to communicate your needs and wants. Rafayel knows he’s told you time and time again that he hates waiting, pouting and whining whenever you take too long to give him his long-awaited attention.
He knows you got his package because you opened his message and sent him a picture of you with the bottle of perfume, thanking him for the gift and telling him you were tired and needed to go to bed. He let you go with a goodnight message of his own.
You typically awake before him, texting him good morning or sending him a picture of your breakfast. Something would prove you were still alive and his erratic heartbeat would calm once again. He tries instead to distract himself with his work, ignoring how many times he has to stop his mind from wandering over to you and what you could have been doing.
He ignores the fact that right now, he’s haphazardly looking through his things to find that spare key you gave him under the pretense that it’d help soothe his separation anxiety (that he swears he doesn’t have) and grabbing his keys to dive over to your place. It’s been a day and a half now and you didn’t tell him that you had a mission and you normally would have picked up one of his calls by now. He pats himself on the back for driving safe despite how worried he is for you, knowing that he can use it to lord over your head if you scold him for getting to your place so quickly when he confronts you for driving him up a wall with worry.
Pretending to be calm, he rings the bell to your apartment. He’s going to be patient, crossing his arms and fiddling w the keys in his hand. He’s thinking up ways to scold you, how he’s going to get you now for not listening to him but when all that meets him is a deafening silence his demeanour really drops. He practically forces his way in, unlocking your door and seeing your shoes still just sat by the door unmoved.
Quickly, he makes his way to your bedroom and heaves a sigh of relief when he sees you’re asleep. The rise and fall of your chest as you’re curled around a pillow is slightly less noticeable. When he brushes back your bangs to look at your face, he’s glad to see nothing’s wrong.
“Stupid. Got me all worked up for nothing,” he scolds you quietly, intending to lean over to give your forehead a kiss right as your brows furrow.
He expects to see the lines smooth out but when you start to mutter something under your breath that he can’t make out he feels a wave of anxiety begin to crash down on him. You begin to look more and more distressed. You already tend not to sleep easily from how busy your days are and he can barely manage to put you down to rest so he’s conflicted about waking you up but when he sees tears slipping down your cheeks as you start to thrash, he decides he doesn’t have a choice.
You don’t notice any of this is happening. Your mind spins as you try to make sense of all the “memories” fragmenting in your mind. You can feel Rafayel’s arms around your body, the way he’s trying to reassure that it’s okay but you can’t think straight as you watch him disappear. You reach out desperately to grab him, hand tightly squeezing around a quickly dissipating arm and shout for him, not expecting to grab something solid. You’re relieved – maybe he won’t disappear now – but suddenly you feel your arms being pinned to your sides.
“Rafayel?” you ask hoarsely, unsure why he looks so flush and why your throat hurts so much.
Your eyes struggle to adjust to the light in your room, slowly coming to your senses as you realise you had been just having a horrible dream. The fight leaves your body as you slump into your bed a little more. It takes you a second to catch your breath and you wait to see if Rafayel will say anything to you.
“You’re a lot stronger than I thought you’d be asleep. You hit me so hard I thought I’d black out. I guess that’s why you’re a hunter, huh?” he says casually.
If you didn’t know him better you wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes keep roaming over your body. His grip holds your wrists securely and he lets go of one hand to gently brush a knuckle against your cheek.
“You’re crying. What happened?” he asks softly after a minute, cupping your face in his palm. Your hand comes up to validate his observation, laughing shakily.
“I had a nightmare. I guess it just shook me up more than I thought.”
You’re about to tell him about it when it hits you. Rafayel basically died in your dream, leaving you all alone after trying to reverse whatever it was that happened to the you in your dream. He gave himself up for your life. Your breathing begins to pick up again and your tears begin to shed anew, making him panic again.
“I’m sorry – I’ll never ask about your dreams again. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here,” he tries to soothe, not knowing what to do since he’s never seen you cry before.
He sits you up, pulling you into his lap easily and hugging you tightly to his chest. Your face buries itself in his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulder and as you cry harder. You can feel the reassuring warmth of his palm against your back, his voice trying to calm you down and ground you. Your nails dig into his skin almost painfully, Rafayel holding back his tongue. He can tell you need this and he’s glad you’re being this vulnerable around him, rocking back and forth gently until you slowly start to calm yourself.
“How’d you know to come?”
“You didn’t reply to any of my messages. Surely that’s more than enough reason to come and make sure you’re alright.”
The words that would normally have a bit of his good-natured bite seem softer than usual, you hiccupping a little in response from how hard you were crying. You try to wipe away your tears but he stops you again, wiping them away for you and laying the two of you back on your bed.
“Do you want to give it another shot? Try to tell me what happened.”
You try again to explain to him what happened, choking a little on the end that put you in distress in the first place. He listens attentively, body stiffening as he processes why you were so upset. Before you can start to cry again, he simply holds you tighter, shaking his head as you take a deep breath of him.
“I’m flattered you care about me that much but next time don’t try to break my arms in an attempt to rescue me. I think you’d end up doing more harm than good.”
You feel yourself growing a little embarrassed, covering your face with your hands. The two of you haven’t been official for long and you’re flustered. To admit in such a dramatic way that he’s already become such an integral part of your being that the thought of losing him makes you this frantic is humbling to say the least and you sigh.
“Honestly, it felt so real. I was so afraid I lost you and the dread that I felt was just…”
Rafayel places a feather light kiss on your cheek, breaking you out of your stupor. You feel him press more and more, stopping when your eyes finally meet his. A hand on your waist squeezes you gently.
“Did you feel that?” he asks you, smiling softly when you nod.
“It was just a bad dream. I’d never leave you like that,” he mutters against your lips, stealing your breath in such an affectionate kiss that it makes your mind melt.
“You couldn’t have slept well like that and you still look tired. You can go back to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up, I promise.”
Your grip on his body tightens and you look at him hopefully, Rafayel laughing as he finally manages to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Yes, I’ll stay despite my incredibly busy schedule. You’re the only one who can ask such things of me.”
You hum happily, nuzzling your face in the space between his neck and shoulder. You can feel sleep coming back to claim you, Rafayel’s hold on your body continuing to ground you. He continues to press kisses to your face affectionately, thumb rubbing circles on your skin as he waits for you to fall asleep.
If you listen closely, you could hear him humming a familiar tune, lulling you back to sleep with promises of forever.  
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a-hazbin-reader · 1 month
Note
I would like to see how Alastor's mother meets the reader (when they were alive). I see almost nothing of Alastor's mother and I feel that she is a wonderful mother ヾ(≧▽≦*)o
Alastor lovers would be NOTHING without this woman, she should be WORSHIPPED
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None I think???
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor's mother was his entire world, all the love and affection in his life came from her
The way he learned to love he learned from her
So you have her to thank for that
Which is why you're so fucking nervous to meet her, if she doesn't like you then you feel like your relationship is doomed
Not that Alastor would leave you at the drop of a hat but you just couldn't make him choose, you love him too much for that
You're fretting over everything, your hair, your clothes, your perfume-
E V E R Y T H I N G
It's not until you feel a strong hand on your shoulder and look into Alastor's eyes that you realize you were panicking
He's smiling at you, he's always smiling, but you can tell you worried him
"Sorry...it's just...I'm nervous..."
You're being pulled into his warm embrace before you can say anything more, familiar fingers pushing your chin up
You feel a pleasant shudder go through you as you meet Alastor's eyes, soaking up the affection that radiates from them
"Now now, a little dinner has you this worked up~?"
"What if she doesn't like me?"
He's leaning in closer, never breaking your gaze as his lips brush against your own, his canines glinting almost like fangs-
"Why wouldn't she like you? If I love you then she'll surely love you too..."
God, this woman raised such a good man
If Alastor was being honest with you, he's a bit nervous too but not in a bad way
He's excited for his two favorite people to meet, he's excited to show off each of you to the other so that you both understand his love for you two
He's just so ecstatic that this is finally happening
Coos and soothes you the entire walk to his mother's house, knowing that you're nervous but understanding that you have no reason to be
Alastor lets himself in and you're immediately welcomed with the scent of delicious food cooking
You can hear his mother in the kitchen, the table not yet fully set
Alastor leaves your side to hug his mother in greeting, laughing a little when he startles the old woman
She's beautiful even though she's no longer a young woman, you see a lot of her in her son
"Mother, I'd like you to meet my darling Y/N~"
Alastor's arm wraps around you in an attempt to calm your nerves and to present you proudly to his mother
When her kind eyes land on you, all sense of anxiety and fear melts away as she pulls you in for a hug
She's stronger than she looks, squeezing you as though you two have known each other for years
You realize that she hugs just like Alastor and melt into her arms as you hug her back
"It's so good to finally meet you..! I've been asking Alastor to bring you over ever since he first mentioned he was seeing someone!"
Now Alastor is blushing and mumbling something about her promising she wouldn't bring that up
You can't help but laugh and pat his cheek softly, it's adorable when he's embarrassed
Together the three of you finish up dinner, his mother sending him out of the kitchen to set the table
Leaving the two of you alone
It starts off smoothly, the two of you making polite conversation before falling into comfortable silence
And then it's uncomfortable
Oh shit you're nervous again
She stands next to you as the two of you work together to finish cooking, a soft smile on her face
"My son really loves you, my dear..."
Her voice is still soft, still warm, but there's a warning tone to it
Alastor did say his mother could be the sweetest woman or the scariest woman you've ever met
"I hope that love isn't misplaced."
Oh. Of course.
She's looking out for her son, like any good mother would do
You're careful with your next words, reaching out and taking the other woman's hand gently
You make sure to look into her eyes, wanting to convey your truth
"Ma'am, you son will have my heart and my soul in life and in death. I love him more than words can convey.."
And that's all it takes, the woman pulling you in for another hug and clutching you in relief
This woman is relieved that her son found someone who genuinely loves him and will continue to love him when she's gone
And if you love her son as she does then she has no choice but to love you as well
Things are easy going between you two after that, Alastor's mother loving you a little more with each thing she learns about you
She watches the two of you interact and gains a better understanding of the relationship
She understands why her son fell for you, you're more than just a pretty face that lured him in
You actually remind her a little bit of herself in her younger days
Mother, please don't say that
The two of you actually get along rather well, ganging up on Alastor several times throughout the night
"I'm only saying! The best way to enjoy tea is-"
"Alastor, honey, Y/N and I just told you that you're wrong."
"Why don't you let the two people who know what they're talking about carry the conversation, hm~?"
"I think it's about time we leave, don't you two agree?"
NO
Not Alastor's mother taking your hand and looking at her son with a shocked expression
"You would take away my darling Y/N? What cruel boy you've turned into!"
Oh she's good
Alastor pretends to be annoyed at the sight of you two clinging to each other and whining about not wanting to be separated
Before that fake annoyance melts away into fondness and he's joining in on the hug
Alastor takes care of cleaning up dinner, leaving the two of you alone again
Which means Alastor's mother gets to show you photos of Alastor when he was younger
And tell you all the embarrassing stories
You two are so busy giggling and cooing at the photos that you don't notice Alastor standing in the doorway, face flushed red with embarrassment
"Time to go, my dear!"
She sends you home with plenty of leftovers and fusses over you like you're one of her own
"Do you need a jacket, dear? A hat? I might have an extra one around here-"
Gives you the biggest hug and kiss on the forehead before you leave, telling you to visit her often
Oh just one more hug before you go
Before Alastor can pull away from his own hug, she pulls him back to whisper to him
"You picked a good one, my darling boy...~"
You three are a family after that, no matter what anyone says, no matter what happens
She loves you just as much as she loves her boy and she'll brag about you just as much as he does
Carries a photo of you two around in her purse so she can show everybody
Literally loves having you around and is worried that other men will try to take you for themselves
You don't have a ring on that finger
Not yet anyways
Alastor's mother just has to convince him that he wants to get married
Which probably won't be hard
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This is like the only photo of Alastor's mother I can find and I don't even know if it's canon or not-
She's gorgeous??
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This one wasn't originally what I was working on but it was too good to pass up
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months
Text
Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part one)
+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O
+ What type of BF/GF they would be
Including John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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My rules for requests and characters I can write for
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Please comment if you want to be added to the taglist, the next part or cod content alone.
Taglist: @marshmallowinamess
A/n: Hi lovelies! Lia here, I'm back after a nerve-wracking week of school. This is a bit short but I hope you enjoy it otherwise. God I fucking hate school. I wrote all of this in a cold room, a heat pad on me (because period cramps) and at 3am so any mistakes will be edited out as soon as I'm aware of it.
This is divided into a multiple part thing (I think 2-3?) because God knows I can't fit them all in one post because of the limited amount of gifs and photos. I'll add more to these in the future, some are longer than others because I can't think. Also because I can't write them all at once, that's a lot to write okay 😭
Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.
Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.
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John Price
ꕥ (OH MY GOD LOOK AT HIS SMILEEE) (He's such a quokka)
ꕥ Price who literally is such a father figure, doesn't matter whether the relationship between you two is romantic or platonic. He often takes the dominant caring role.
ꕥ Doesn't smoke around you, doesn't matter if you insist he doesn't. He still won't and definitely will criticize you if you try or do smoke because he doesn't want you do end up like him.
ꕥ If there's a bit of an age gap between you, I'd say he's hesitant. Definitely afraid of what the rest of the task force thinks (He can't help it, they're basically his boys)
ꕥ John Price who wants to settle down with you, maybe have kids if you want but just a white picket fence life with you without the chaos that is war and his job.
ꕥ He only ever let's you have his hat, only when he gives it to you though. Most of the time it would be while you're out, he'd put it on your head from his. (Cowboy hat rule? I heard that in more respectful terms rather than sexual, it respectfully means that you are theirs)
ꕥ John Price who rests his chin at the top of your head no matter how much he needs to crouch down whenever hugging you from behind. Love doing it whenever you're busy doing something too. (Props for the effort because you cannot tell me he doesn't have back, neck and knee pains)
ꕥ Is constantly worried if you share the same line of work, like at first it was nothing but a tiny crush and slowly he finds himself caring about your well-being more and more over time.
ꕥ Can't help but think he's an acts of service type of guy, reaching up for things you need or better yet lifting you up so you can reach them and loves opening things for you like bottles or anything canned. (Girlies who get their nails done or wear press ons know this struggle ( I'm a press on girly)
ꕥ The kind of man who would turn on some oldies music and slow dance with you in the living room, your footsteps and breathing being the only other sounds as you smile at each other, foreheads against the other's.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
ꕥ Ghost who is such Doberman/Black cat boyfriend. Like have you seen this man? He's so tall and intimidating, one distasteful look from him and if it was physically possible that person would drop dead.
ꕥ Ghost whose a chubby chaser through and through, he just looks for something different from what he's used to.
ꕥ Is definitely a tits kinda guy, doesn't matter how big or how small they are. He'll definitely play with them in some way during doing the you know what.
ꕥ Feels like you can take him and his size better because of your plush body. Has a size kink and likes seeing it bulge a bit when he's inside you.
ꕥ You're just so soft and warm, he wants something away from what he usually feels doing his job. Not really that touchy but he gets quite clingy within closed doors.
ꕥ Likes to squeeze your thighs, his grip on them would not falter. Doesn't matter whether it's in a sexual or domestic way.
ꕥ Thinks you deserve better than what he can offer and needs constant reassurance, never says it out loud but you pick up on what he feels. (please be patient with him)
ꕥ More often than not, he thinks you're quite fragile. Even if you can protect yourself, one of his ways of showing you he loves you is through protecting you. Hence the Doberman boyfriend scenario.
ꕥ Doesn't like PDA but knows when it's necessary, him placing his arm around your shoulder is enough to keep perverts in their places. If that rando is really that bold then they'll most likely end up with a few broken bones depending on how pissed Simon is.
ꕥ If you work alongside him, he'd constantly worry about your well-being but at the same time is conflicted because he's confident that he can protect you.
ꕥ Only you and the TF141 can call him Simon, he still feels uneasy when he gets called that but when it's you saying it, it doesn't sound as daunting to him. Still dislikes in in certain tones of voice because his name reminds him of his past.
ꕥ You've seen his face, it took a long time but after that he trusted you enough to show him. The fact that you didn't find his face revolting and even kissed his scars while cupping his face was enough for him to want to marry you.
ꕥ Isn't fully insecure about his face but has his moments. (You know like the voice line where soap asks him to take off his mask and asked him if he was ugly and Ghost said "Negative")
ꕥ Takes a little while to get him to open up and little things like letting you hold him takes him a bit of time to get used to because it makes him feel vulnerable.
ꕥ God forbid something were to happen to you and he couldn't do anything to stop it, Simon would lose his fucking mind.
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John "Soap" MacTavish
ꕥ Soap is a Golden Retriever boyfriend through and through. He's energetic, loyal and really affectionate.
ꕥ He's a lighthearted flirt at first because he doesn't wanna scare you off but damn does he gradually get bolder over time.
ꕥ Very hands on, touchy, and could be clingy at times unless you don't consent him, secretly always finding new ways to touch you.
ꕥ A sucker for cheek kisses, lips are his favorite but he can't help but break out a wide grin whenever you kiss his cheek. Can't help but feel kinda manly whenever you do.
ꕥ Adores making you laugh, no matter how stupid your sense of humor is he will absolutely say that joke if it gets a laugh out of you. Would be concerned if you had a dark sense of humor but will eventually get used to it. To describe it, hearing you laugh makes his heart feel full like in a content domestic way.
ꕥ Also, see the gif? You cannot tell me that he doesn't look at you that way because he absolutely would.
ꕥ Loves your weight against his body to the pint he's begging you to lay on him. You, him in the bed while he's shirtless with grey sweatpants on and you in your night clothes sharing each other's warmth with your head on his broad chest.
ꕥ Shows you silly and cute pet videos, especially the cat ones:
"[Name], look at this one!"
"Soap, we're not adopting a pet. Not right now at least"
ꕥ He was upset and gave you puppy eyes the whole time because the only time he had pet was when he was child, it was a hamster which was killed because it got sucked into the vacuum by his older sister.
ꕥ You're the only one allowed to tough his hair, he's very proud of his mohawk and will let you style it. Won't wear it out if you did something silly to it though.
ꕥ Soap who loves showing you off to everyone, loves light PDA but doesn't wanna potential put a target on your back.
ꕥ He definitely is the guy you want to take home to your family and friends (or found family <3), he's funny and easy to get along with. Very flirty with you but he'll straighten out because he's terrified on making a bad impression.
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
ꕥ (HE'S SO FREAKING UNDERRATED WITHIN THIS FANDOM)
ꕥ He gives Labrador boyfriend vibes, you can't help but want to take care of him.
ꕥ Gaz who literally had to do a double take when he first saw you, he turned to Soap with that "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" look in a good way.
ꕥ Gaz who literally had to ask you out multiple times before you said yes thinking he's only doing it for a bet or a cruel joke.
ꕥ Constant reassurance from him because he doesn't want you to feel insecure about your looks because to him you are literally an angel.
ꕥ Loves to chill with you, cuddling and just relaxing. Maybe scrolling on TikTok occasionally and show you the funny ones he chuckled at.
ꕥ He has a sixth sense whenever you crave something, say you want chocolate or drink of some sort then he'd definitely being home whatever it is you we're craving without having to ask you.
ꕥ Kyle who has your Starbucks order memorized because he likes being the one to order things for you. Will playfully argue with you on who'll pay this time. (Don't even try anymore, he always wins anyway)
ꕥ Puts his hat on your head mostly when you're out, has done it the first time because it was hot out and the sun was in your eyes. He's picked it up from Price and once you smiled at him through the shade of his cap, he has not stopped doing it.
ꕥ Definitely a words of affirmation and acts of service kind of guy when it comes to love languages. Sometimes whenever he'd give you two thumbs up and a cheeky smile, you can't help but laugh a little.
ꕥ He's very thoughtful, so much so that he prides himself in knowing you better than anyone. Everytime you two go out to eat, when he gets something and know that you'll want to taste it (he knows damn well whether you'll like it or not when he tastes it) he'll bring it upon himself to order you one before you even say you want some.
ꕥ Soft snores when he sleeps, it's cute but you know damn well he's tired. Also I think he's very cuddly, like he just likes reminding himself that he's not alone and that his bed is warm because you're in it. Therefore at minimum always has an arm around you in bed.
ꕥ Dances in the rain with you and loves it when you pull him gently on his arm while your hands are intertwined. Takes note of how the the raindrops sometimes fall on your lashes while you look up at him smiling.
ꕥ Kyle Garrick who wants nothing more in the world to see you happy and smiling. His "this is the woman I'm going to marry" moment was when you baked his favorite cake for his birthday despite it being so hard, you nailed it perfectly. (Whether it's out of luck or skill is up to you)
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Alejandro Vargas
ꕥ (idk how to write for this angry Mexican man but I'll try my best, love him and his megamind hairline though <3)
ꕥ Alejandro is definitely a flirt, a very bold on at that. He's quite forward when it comes to liking someone so yeah.
ꕥ He lives for it when you boss him around. That being said, he isn't picky about body type or any of the sort.
ꕥ Will teach you Spanish if you don't know any, definitely prioritizes the curse words and laughs whenever you jokingly call him pendejo.
ꕥ Wouldn't mind you teaching him your own culture and mother tongue. Bonus points if it's similar to his.
ꕥ Has Spanish nicknames for you because I imagine his own culture is important to him.
ꕥ Would hate it if you had the same line of work but will never take it out on you, it's just that it's so dangerous given the people he's involved with. (It's definitely Valeria)
ꕥ Speaking of El Sinombre, I don't think they had anything romantic going on. It's mainly platonic and the "betrayal" sucked on Alejandro's side. They definitely had some rivalry and the tension was through the roof. (Mainly because I headcanon Valeria as Lesbian)
ꕥ Can be so romantic when he tries, you can't tell me this mf ain't a smooth talker because he definitely is. Can be very blunt like in a forward way with his affection too.
ꕥ Likes kissing your wrist and feeling your pulse against his lips because it reminds him you're alive. (The amount of angst this scenario carries would be something I'm up for to write)
ꕥ Is sent on a fit of rage when something happens to you, say you got kidnapped then this man would tears off the walls of every building if he had to.
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Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
ꕥ (ANOTHER UNDERATED CHARACTER)
ꕥ Another Golden Retriever boyfriend. This man is just loving and dotting, very husband material.
ꕥ Loves chubby women, has a soft spot for them and just likes holding them.
ꕥ He's definitely used to the insecurity that comes with the body, also doesn't get why such beauty standards are even in place. Has and would fuck the insecure out of you again if he had to. (It's in a very gentle and loving manner)
ꕥ If you hold him in your arms, he'd be absolutely living for it. He already has had a long day and being honest he hasn't had many lovers that went far so having you care in this way about him would have him wrapped around your finger.
ꕥ Worships the ground you walk on. That's it.
ꕥ Would take everything to heart whenever you teach him or mention something within your culture if you aren't of Spanish origins like he is. He just loves you so much that it makes him happy knowing more about you.
ꕥ Would adore slow dancing with you, brings him back to reality where he realizes that he has you and that you're there.
ꕥ Terrified that one day you'll end up leaving him so reassurance would be much appreciated by him.
ꕥ Definitely a sucker for receiving forehead kisses, as for giving he likes to kiss the back of your hand.
ꕥ If ever danger presents itself to you too closely, he would have a heart attack like full on crying but not in public though.
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4ttack-ur-heart · 7 months
Text
Flock of Birds
Pairing: levi x gn! Reader
Summary: You’re injured, disoriented, and alone in the middle of the forest with your thoughts. The rest of the Levi squad is dead. You’re hoping death comes sooner rather than later, but luckily your Captain finds you in time.
Warnings: angst, descriptions of violence, reader hoping for death, happy ending.
**something to get me back into writing, and apparently symbolism is hard for me to write. Takes place during season 2 and reader is apart of his og squad.
Their relationship can be read as romantic or platonic, it’s not really specified.
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The birds never looked so free. A small flock flew above you in the typical ‘v’ form. Sasha said they do that to keep track of each other. To keep each other safe while migrating and make sure no one gets left behind. Were they ducks? No, no, they had to be crows. Maybe they’re- who cares?
You’re mind was fuzzy.
Vision was blurry.
And of course it had to be raining.
But… the sun was out and the sky was clear.
Then why was water running down your face? The slow tickle of the liquid trailed down your face and down your jaw until it fell on your white pants.
Blood.
Oh. That explains it.
How long have you been out here? What time was it.. what day was it?
The ringing in your ear slowly dissipates and your vision starts to clear. You’re sitting down.
Why? Captain Levi gave you and the rest of his squad orders to stop the Female Titan. This isn’t making any sense.
Where was Petra? Eld?
God, your head hurts.
Maybe they found their flock of birds and flew to safety? But without you?
Nothing makes sense.
All you can see are trees, granted you can’t even move your head around fully. But, the Scouts are in titan territory, this was no time to be sitting.
You try to move your legs that sprawled in front of you, but the small movement makes you release a strangled cry.
Oh. It’s all coming back now.
Your squad, no, Levi’s squad… they’re all gone.
The female Titan elbowed you while going after the others. You must’ve hit the tree and only suffered a few broken bones before you went unconscious.
Perfect.
The sun was starting to get lower in the sky and you realize the scouts must’ve made their way back hours ago.
A small and bitter laugh escaped you. This is how you die? Alone and surrounded by the corpses of your comrades? What a sick world.
Maybe, just maybe if you close your eyes, you won’t wake up. The painful yearning for death in your sleep was no more than a miracle. And miracles don’t happen. Not in this life.
No, a Titan is bound to grab you at any moment, squeezing your body in its hand until your bones crack and blood is pouring out of your mouth. Death only comes once its teeth bite down on your skull.
That’s how you’re supposed to die.
Then why weren’t there any titans?
Not that you minded, but it was very peculiar. This was prime Titan country and you should’ve been dead before you’ve even woken up.
A faint noise catches your attention. That sounds like… odm gear.
With your rotten luck, they’ll fly past you, not noticing you’re still alive. Thin tears leaked from your dehydrated body. You’ll have to suffer a cold night by yourself, then get plucked off the ground by a Titan once dawn approaches. If you’re lucky, you’ll die during the night.
“Captain!”
A voice shouted out as the odm gear sounded a lot closer now. It was a female voice.
Was it Krista? No, her voice is too soft.
Sasha? No, it couldn’t be.
“Captain, they’re alive!”
Oh, it was Mikasa. She was cool.
Thumps and the sound of the twigs and leaves snapping as the two made their way over to you.
Which Captain was it?
Wait, wasn’t there only one Captain?
Yes, he wasn’t just your Captain, he was your squad leader.
Your head tilted to the side and through half-lidded eyes, you saw Captain Levi standing there in shock. Mikasa quickly rushes over to you and scans you for any lethal wounds.
“T-they hit their head pretty hard it looks like.” She says with tears brimming her eyes. Levi finally snaps out of it and remembers his authority.
“Scan the area for any Titans until I get them on one of the branches.” Levi crouches down in front of you as Mikasa leaves. “Hey, hey, can you hear me?”
His hands carefully grasp at your face to steady your head. “Y/l/n, I asked you a question.” Your eyes locked with his. The sharp grey eyes bore into yours just like so many other times, but this time you could tell there was a sense of longing and concern within them. Your hand reaches out to grasp the wings of freedom patch on the shoulder of his jacket.
That’s when your emotions took over. Tears leaked from your eyes and you gave out a cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Captain. We t-tried to stop her.”
The disappointment in yourself rang through your body. You were still alive. Everyone else was dead. So why you? You were the first one down and couldn’t even follow your captains orders.
“Shut the hell up.” Levi interrupts your thoughts.
“You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” He breathes out and rests his forehead on yours. “Thank god.”
More tears. “B-but the others-”
“We can mourn when we’re all safe. Right now, we have to get you out of here.”
Levi takes out a roll of bandages and starts to bind them against your head wound. “Don’t die on me yet, kid.”
“I’m only a few years younger than you.” You gave him a weak smile.
“Save your energy, brat.”
There’s the Captain you know.
Once he bandages your wounds, he sets his arms under you to carry you. You let out a small cry at the movement of your leg.
“Shit.” He mutters and moves to take off his cloak. “There’s nothing I can do for the pain. Just hold on until we can get to the wagons.”
“Okay.”
His thumb wipes away a few of your tears and he rips a strip off his cloak and rolls it up. “We can’t have that loud mouth of yours attracting more of those ugly bastards.” He hold it up to your mouth.
“Bite.”
The cloth is pressed between your teeth and acts as a bite guard.
You couldn’t help the muffled groans of pain as he lifted your body up. He tied more pieces of his cloak around you both to act as a harness so you were strapped to his back.
“You alright?” Levi asked once he stood up. He only got a muffled grunt in response.
Without another word, he took off into the trees.
“Mikasa, let’s go! We’re meeting up with the others.”
The other scout soon joined you two and she gave you a worried glance.
Your arms were limply resting around Levi’s neck as he moved and your head turns to the side.
Birds flew next to you.
“To keep each other safe.” Sasha’s voice rang out in your head. “When my dad was teaching me to hunt, I always wondered why birds flew like that, too.”
“Aw, so they’re looking out for each other?” You asked, splitting your slice of bread in half and handing it to her. “That’s cute.”
She eagerly took it, “Yeah! It’s to make sure no one gets left behind and makes communicating easier.”
Who knew one of Sasha’s old stories would play through your mind at a time like this.
Levi landed on his horse and was careful with you and his own injured leg. The forest was becoming smaller and you could see the walls in the distance.
You’re gonna be okay.
Levi’s hand gripped both of yours around his neck and he held the reigns in the other.
Sorry fate, you weren’t getting left behind this time. Maybe miracles do happen. You might have lost some along the way, but the birds must stick together, especially in this world.
———
Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @sad-darksoul @cullenswife
(If you wanna be added or removed, lmk!!)
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