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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months

Text

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy.

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate.

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for.

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period.

Your cycle had been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag.

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military.

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it.

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response.

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood.

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration.

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.”

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man.

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work.

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband.

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending.

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie.

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!”

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath.

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-”

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.”

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door.

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway.

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it.

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood.

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear.

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants.

Your period had come.

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie.

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ”

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply.

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.”

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first.

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.”

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply.

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘”

“Oh shut up, meanie.”

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍”

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way.

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch.

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband.

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?”

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest.

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace.

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you.

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-”

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse.

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem.

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.”

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.”

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him.

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you.

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you.

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza.

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-”

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?”

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?”

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.”

“I think I can make that happen.”

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest.

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy.

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth.

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you.

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core.

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you.

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices.

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period.

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man.

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths.

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.”

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds.

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt.

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot.

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool.

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over.��

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue.

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name.

“Frankie, holy fuck.”

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could.

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.”

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt.

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace.

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over.

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him.

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity.

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him.

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate.

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word.

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.”

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there.

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did.

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.”

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in.

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.”

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high.

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss.

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss.

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight.

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.”

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

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luveline · 25 days

Note

you can ignore me for the rest of time and I will still dutifully show up to read your work every day ~ can I request some angsty bombshell x spencer? maybe their first actual fight and spence snaps at her so bombshell r crying and locks herself in their room and he apologizes through the door but still sleeps on the couch and she comes and snuggles in the middle of the night and forgives him bc she can’t sleep? this is so self indulgent pls feel free to change anything you want love you jade

thank u for requesting! —spencer makes you cry. fem, 1k

Spencer can’t stand hearing you cry. He can’t believe he’s the one who caused it —he didn’t mean to, he just got so annoyed at you, everything’s difficult lately now you’ve moved in together permanently because you practically living at his apartment is apparently not the same as truly living with one another.

He knows neither of you are unhappy living together, but you haven’t fought before, not like this. He stands just outside the bedroom door where you’ve sequestered yourself, ashamed of making you this upset. He doesn’t let himself in. “Y/N?”

“Go away, Spencer,” you say. To your credit, you try to sound calmer than you are.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Please don’t cry.”

“Spencer,” you say, a line of anger darkening your words, “leave me alone.”

He shouldn’t have said you were being lazy. You aren’t lazy, you’re tired. Moving in together has been really hard on you, even if you won’t admit it, or show it externally. He just wanted to say something mean, because you’d said you allowed him to have that ugly armchair in the living room and he got mad —it’s not ugly, and he wasn’t allowed, he’s a grown man.

He just can’t feel angry about it anymore hearing your sad sniffling. He said something too mean, he took it too far, and maybe he was ‘allowed’. Moving in together is about compromise, and you’d compromised, and he’s punishing you for it.

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I– I was being mean and you didn’t deserve that. I’ll be out here if you… if you wanna talk to me,” he says, turning to leave with his head held low.

He waits all night for you to come out, if it were just to drink some water or use the bathroom, but after a few minutes he can’t hear you crying, and you don’t make any sounds. He thinks he might hear you moving the sheets aside some time toward 10PM, but there’s nothing after that. He falls asleep on the couch, sulking, wishing he hadn’t been such an idiot.

You let yourself out of your shared bedroom in the middle of the night. The sheets don’t smell enough like him, and you want to hold his hand, and you want to know he’s really not mad at you. That he doesn’t really think you’re lazy.

Quiet, you walk downstairs and into the living room, where Spencer sleeps stretched out on the couch. It’s a big couch, meant for soft sitting, wide enough that, were you to set a baby down, they couldn’t roll off accidentally. Spencer’s on his side with his arm curled around one of the bigger pillows, brown strands of hair falling into his face.

He’s not a deep sleeper, but you can’t say you’re scared to wake him. You pull the pillow from his arms and sit on the couch beside him, working your way into his side, and encouraging his arm over yours. Gentle, you brush the mess of his hair from his eyes. He doesn’t even have a blanket.

You hold his sleeping face in your hands. His eyes twitch and scrunch tighter at your touching, worried, but you give a gentle, “Shh,” and he relaxes. His eyes smooth, then open, lashes struggling apart, the brown of his eyes dark as a roasted chestnut.

He whispers your name, tongue heavy with sleep.

“Mm,” you reply, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You press your face to his neck, letting yourself deflate as you wait for his arms to lock you in. It can’t be five seconds before he’s curling his arms around you carefully, kissing your hairline, the first bit of skin he can reach at this angle. He’s not quite awake yet, you know, can tell from countless times sleeping in his bed. If he were to fall back to sleep, he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper.

“Oh,” he says, with all the tenderness of a pet name, dripping, palpable adoring, “want tea?”

“Want you.”

He strokes your shoulder. You’re the one being hugged, really, but Spencer’s grip gets so tight you worry he needs one. You wrap your arms behind him, close your eyes tight to stop from getting teary.

“I don’t like fighting,” you say.

“M’sorry.”

“Do you want to kiss and make up?”

He stills. “You’re not mad?”

“You really upset me, Spence. N’ I bet you know that n’ feel bad enough already,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was being childish.”

You forgive him. Everybody’s allowed to be mean every once in a while. You’d been arguing, and you can feel now that he regrets it, his hands apprehensive but somehow loving still as they touch your back through the thin fabric of a t-shirt he’d bought you. The front has a silly graphic on it, some equation that spells out love.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m not mad. I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me, so… Let’s not fight again.”

“I don’t like it when you cry.”

You shake your head gently, slotting yourself into all his nooks and crevices. Your legs tangled, the couch is an ample bed for two people trying to be as close to each other as humanly possible. You don’t like crying either, not over Spencer, not thinking he doesn’t see you in the light you’d thought he did.

“Do you really think I’m lazy?” you ask.

“No, I was being awful,” he says, sounding deeply repentant.

Well, there’s no need to punish him, you decide, not when he’s beating himself up already. You cup the back of his head to tap your foreheads together, any aches and pains of the bed disappearing in the eye of his softness. He’s gaining confidence now you’ve touched his hair, his hands travelling low to the small of your back, your face once again pushed into the curve of his neck, where you stay.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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that-sarcastic-writer · 1 year

Text

Say it

Pairing: RE4R!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Reader

Summary: After coming back from Spain, Leon has been acting distant. You think seeing a face from the past has messed with his feelings, and he wants to prove you that is not the case.

Takes place after the events of re4 remake, mentions the events of RE2 remake as well

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), p in v, creampie, choking, praise kink, soft dom leon, he talks you through it, they're both just desperate for each other, the s in leon s kennedy stands for slut, language, established relationship

WC: 4.4k

A/N: I've been thinking about this mf ever since I played the remake. So I wrote this self indulgent piece of filth. This is my first time writing for him so pls be kind. Enjoy :)

You can also read this over at Ao3 (but pls still reblog and shit here thank u)

Leon Kennedy Masterlist

Creds of gift above to this tumblr

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

You knew you had no right to be upset, not when you knew damn well what he went through. Or more so, you didn’t actually know what he went through, so you couldn’t possibly imagine what was going through his head right now. But still, you knew something else was in his head, and it wasn’t just the horrors he had to deal with to come back alive from Spain. There was something else in his mind. You knew it.

This silence, it was killing you. Leon wasn’t much of a talker to begin with, not after Raccoon City, but for the better part of a decade, you learned to be comfortable with his silence. Right now though, you just felt uncomfortable.

“Want me to pour you one?”

Oh he speaks.

You lifted your head from the pile of papers on your lap at the sound of his voice, you saw him standing in front of the small cabinet where he kept all of his alcohol, glass and bottle of expensive whiskey in hand. You half smiled at him and shook your head.

“Not right now, thank you.” You watched him shrug in response and take a long sip of his glass, before he walked over to join you on the couch. But he sat on the opposite end.

You frowned a bit when he sat so far, but you chose to not comment on it and instead brought your attention back to your paper. A good five minutes went by, and you had made zero improvements, you hadn't even picked up the pen again, so Leon spoke again.

“How’s the paper coming along?” He asked with a clear of his throat as he sat back, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him and his head was turned in your direction.

You sighed heavily, “It’s not. I can’t for the life of me come up with the right words.” You groaned softly as you threw your head back and rubbed your tired eyes.

You were in the same place you were a little less than a week ago, when Leon left to find Ashley Graham in the middle of nowhere Spain, not knowing if you’d ever see him again or not. You couldn’t even sleep, or eat, let alone focus on a paper. And although Leon was now home, alive, you were still preoccupied.

“And that is exactly why I dropped out.”

“This is a Phd program, not my second year of undergrad. Undergrad was nowhere near as bad as this.” You snorted softly and shot him a look. He gave you an annoyed look knowing you were teasing him. “Besides, what you do is way worse than some paper. Fighting weird cults and bioweapons or whatever they’re called.”

“Yeah..” He scoffed out a laugh, but it wasn’t humorous. His expression quickly turned serious as he looked down at his lap. You could see the way his grip tightened the slightest bit around his glass and his jaw ticked.

He had been home a few days by now, having stayed in D.C for a few days to finish all of the report and briefing, and you hadn’t talked about what had happened to him in Spain, just that Ashley was safe, and some weird cult was behind it all, but he couldn’t say much more, or maybe just didn’t want to. Regardless, any mention of it would make him tense up.

He got quiet, and his eyes not once looked your way again. You bit the inside of your cheek and sat up, leaning over your knees to be able to reach him.

“Leon,” You said his name softly and a gentle hand touched his leg. You felt him tense up, but he didn’t make any attempts to move away from your touch. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t care if he didn’t want to open up, you didn’t expect him to, and you would never force him to, but you wanted him to know you would listen if he did.

A shaky exhale left his lips, but he nodded. “Yeah baby, I’m good.” He answered after a few seconds, forcing a smile and forced himself to look your way, but his eyes never met with yours.

God this was killing you.

Before you could respond, he downed the rest of his whiskey before rising to his feet and he started walking without saying a word. Oh no. Absolutely not. If there was something that made your blood boil, it was him walking away in the middle of a conversation. The avoidance. That was something you couldn’t deal with.

“Leon.” You called his name firmly as you stood up and looked at him with a frown. He turned around with an exasperated spin and a tight jaw, frustration already starting to show. “Do not give me that look, Leon Kennedy.”

He smacked his tongue softly, holding back the urge to roll his eyes, “I’m not. I’m just..” He didn’t finish his sentence, he just sighed out loudly.

You let out your own sigh as you walked to stand in front of him. You stared up at him, eyes big as you met his pale blue ones. They looked emptier and less bright every time he came back from a mission, but this look, this look that screamed he was having a mental hurricane, he only had it after Raccoon City.

“Baby I know… I don’t, I don’t know what you saw, or did in Spain, and I know you’re having a hard time right now. I just..” You sighed shakily, bringing your hands up to hold his face between them. He tensed up again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his head hung low, but he said nothing and didn’t move away either. “See, this is what I mean. You don’t even want me to touch you. I want to comfort you, I want to help, but you won’t let me. I thought.. I thought we were past that.”

Your hands were at your sides now, and you had taken a step back from him. That seemed to make him look at you, now with big eyes full of guilt, like he hadn’t even realized he was rejecting you. He had been in his own head, not being able to forget the events of Spain, and not being able to sort out his feelings like he knew he should have. God, had he been acting like this the whole time he was home? Rejecting your attempts at comfort?

“Baby..” He stepped forward, closing the gap you had just created, but he didn’t touch you. He just looked at you, lips parted. He didn’t know how to tell you. “It’s not that.. And it’s not you. In Spain.. There was someone else on that island..”

You stared at him with confusion at first, unsure what exactly that had to do with this. His eyes searched for yours with this guilt ridden and conflicted look. The same look he gave you after Raccoon City. The same one he gave you before he told you he needed time. And then it dawned on you.

Someone else.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?” Realization quickly flashed over your face, and that quickly turned into a mixture of anger and hurt as your gaze hardened. Leon saw it. “That’s what it is. You saw Ada. You saw Ada and now you have your balls all twisted up. Again.”

Now it was you who was walking away from him. You weren’t even going to argue this time, and you didn’t want to wait for him to tell you he needed time again. You were halfway up the stairs when Leon started to call your name, but you ignored him and simply turned the corner into your shared bedroom.

“Shit.” He cursed to himself, sprinting after you, missing two steps and nearly tripping up the stairs in the process.

By the time he made it to your bedroom you already had a backpack thrown on the bed as you aggressively threw clothes into it. His eyes widened with slight panic when he realized what you were doing.

“Hey, woah. It’s the middle of the night, where the hell are you going?” He huffed, walking back and forth between the bed and your dresser as you continued to aggressively toss clothes on the bed.

“Claire’s. Move.” You muttered as you stopped on your heels when Leon stood right in front of you, arms folded over his chest like a wall between you and your dresser. “Leon, I swear to God.”

“Just listen. It wasn’t like that. Nothing happened, sweetheart I swear.” God he wanted to hold you so bad, he didn’t realize just how much until now. But he didn’t reach for you, he kept his arms over his chest, afraid you would backhand him if he tried.

“Yeah, ‘cause you probably realized she was just using you again, so you had no other choice but to come back home to me, and not with her, right?” You scoffed, the hurt and betrayal clear in your voice. He opened his mouth, but you didn’t even let him speak, “And before you ask me for time to sort out your feelings, I'm just gonna go stay at Claire’s, and maybe don’t bother looking for me this time.”

You grabbed the backpack from the bed with whatever you managed to shove in there and started to walk to the door. But Leon was faster than you, stronger too. And before you could step foot outside that bedroom, he had closed the door and backed you into it, both of his hands pressed flat on the door on either side of your head. Your eyes were wide when you looked at him, lips parted but he didn’t let you speak this time.

“Do not say another word, don’t you fucking dare. Just listen to me.” He stressed every word with an authority that instantly made you close your mouth. You blinked a couple of times but didn’t dare say a word. So he continued. “Get this through your head, Ada means absolutely nothing to me anymore. She asked me to go with her, after everything and I.. I said no. I said no ‘cause I want nothing to do with her. I said no ‘cause I wanted to come home to you.”

“Leon..”

He shook his head at you as one of his hands gripped your jaw tightly and he bowed his head to speak closely to you. “I know I’ve been an asshole to you these past few days, I didn't realize I was shutting you out, and I’m sorry. But know that I would never chose Ada over you, not now, not fucking ever. I love you and I’m gonna marry you someday, don’t ever question that.”

You could hear your own breath, his breath, and he kept a tight grip on your jaw as his nose brushed against yours. You closed your eyes and sigh left your lips as you leaned in to press your lips against his, but he pulled back enough to leave you chasing.

"Stay here. Please baby." His voice was low and almost desperate. Fuck, you wanted him take you right then and there. You couldn't even speak, you just nodded, eyes still closed and lips parted. "Say it."

"Yes. Yes, I'll stay, just.." You breathed out the words, mirroring his desperate tone as you clenched your fists around his t-shirt, pulling his body flush against yours. "Please."

His mouth came crashing down against yours so hard he pulled a gasp from your throat. But it quickly turned into a whimper when he angled your head back, allowing him to slip in his tongue. And you happily allowed him to do so as his other hand gripped the back of your thigh.

"Up." He mumbled against your lips as he nearly effortlessly hoisted you up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso.

He walked the short distance to the bed, fingers squeezing your thigh and lips never leaving yours. He only pulled away when he laid you down on the mattress. You were about to whine when he leaned back, but you only managed to suck in a sharp breath as you watched him pull his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes landed on the bruises and injuries he had come home with, a large knife cut across his bicep, now slightly pink as it began to heal, another smaller one above his collarbone, less angry looking, and more purple bruises than you could count, but they were starting to heal as well. Goddamn, even bruised he was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen. Clearly you must've been distracted by the absolute sight that was your boyfriend because you didn’t realize he started to undress you as well until he pulled your t-shirt -that was actually one of his old ones- over your head. He flashed you with a grin and a look that was outright filthy before he leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your breasts while one of his hands played with the other.

The whimper that fell from your lips was almost pathetic, and you couldn’t help but arch your back further into Leon’s mouth, his lips sending shocks of electricity down your spine.

“Please Leon.” You weren’t exactly sure what you were begging for, but you were begging.

He pulled back from your breast with a hum, and tilted his head at you, “Please what?” You gave him a pitiful look, and made a sound resembling a whine. He simply stared at you with feign innocence, “What, baby? What do you want? Tell me.”

Oh Leon S. Kennedy. That S didn’t stand for Scott, it stood for stubborn, because he had to have his way, no matter what.

You made the same pathetic noise, instinctively trying to rub your thighs together to give yourself to relief, but of course, Leon’s body was right in the fucking way, “Please I want.. Ugh fuck sakes Leon. I want your mouth, I want your cock, I want all of you, please.”

Leon had this smug smirk on his lips and he hummed, satisfied with your pathetic pleads, “Alright baby, this is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna make you come on my tongue, then you can come on my cock all you want. Would you like that?”

God, the look you gave him right then made him want to split you wide open. That look of pure need that you could only give him, that you have only given him. And you nodded with so much eagerness it was almost adorable.

“Do you remember how to speak sweetheart?” He asked with this mocking voice and a smirk that made you pull your lips into a small pout as you nodded, and then he smiled at you, head tilted, “Then use your words. Say ‘yes Leon’.”

This motherfucker.

You grumbled a whine of annoyance, for a moment feeling defiant, but Leon quickly gave you a warning look, a look that had you backing down pretty fucking quick, “Yes Leon.” You finally said, hoping that would get you what you wanted.

So he is stubborn, and an arrogant asshole. Checks out.

He gave you a satisfied smirk, and planted a hard kiss to your lips before he moved down the bed. He pressed his lips to your stomach as he pulled your pajama pants down your legs, your panties quickly following. You shivered softly when the cold air hit your core, but the cold was quickly replaced with his warm breath. His pale sapphire eyes found yours for a second as he threw your legs over his broad shoulders, pulling you closer to his face. He dragged his tongue from your entrance to your clit and drew his tongue over the sensitive bud. The sounds that were coming from your mouth were anything but subtle. Your hands instantly flew to clutch his long hair. And while you might have not intended to pull, when two of his fingers slipped into you to join the rhythm of his tongue, you just couldn’t help yourself. You pulled, and fucking hard. He growled, sending vibrations through your core that had you gasping and he dug his other hand into your thigh as he forced you still on the mattress.

“Oooh fuck, fuck Leon,” Your broken moans filled his ears, just as he felt the burn on his scalp from your pulling.

He knew exactly where his mouth needed to be and where his fingers needed to curl to make you come apart, he prided himself in that. And with the way you kept crying out his name and your body wouldn’t stay on the mattress, he knew you had to be pretty fucking close.

“Stay fucking still.” He growled as he pulled back enough for his thumb to replace his tongue for just a second, just so he could watch the way your body writhed each time his fingers brushed against your most sensitive spot. “Yeah that’s it, you’re so close, aren’t you baby? Mhm yeah. C’mon pretty girl, c’mon.”

His tongue quickly replaced his thumb on your clit, his lips closing around the swollen bud as his fingers scissored you open, the lewd sound of his mouth lapping at your dripping cunt filling your ears in the most delicious way possible. And you couldn’t help it, you pushed his head further against you, and the growl that rumbled in his throat as he abused your clit sent vibrations that had you seeing white. Your release coated his face and hand as you fell into a fit of shaking sobs.

His fingers left you slowly, making sure you felt every second of it as his tongue still circled slowly around your swollen clit, not stopping until you were practically pulling him away by his hair, your body still twitching a bit. He chuckled softly, leaving a wet kiss to your thigh in silent praise before slowly climbing up your body.

You opened your eyes to find him settled between your parted thighs, two fingers in his mouth and he moaned lowly as he tasted your juices off his fingers. Your mouth was wide open, and a whine left your lips.

“Hm? Wanna taste baby?” He smirked as he pulled his fingers from his lips and leaned down, pulling you into a messy kiss by your jaw. You could taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips, and fuck, it had you clenching around nothing. He groaned softly, his clothed cock brushing against your wet cunt. He quickly pulled back, seemingly not wanting to wait any longer. “You taste so fucking good, but you feel even better.”

He ridded himself of his sweatpants in a second or two, boxer briefs quickly joining on the floor. He hissed softly as he sat on his knees and brushed his cock over your entrance, covering himself in your slick.

“Please babe..” You whine softly, legs dangling over his hips as you endured his torture. He chuckled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he leaned over you, your legs high on his torso as he slowly filled you, your walls instantly clenching around his cock.

Leon moaned softly, eyes squeezing shut as he slipped further inside you, fingers digging into your hips with enough force to bruise, “Oooh fuck yeah, atta girl.”

You could only moan weakly in response, sounds so pathetic and broken, and Leon loved every goddamn second of it. He sat still for a few seconds, soaking in the feeling of your tight walls around his cock, but the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders encouraged him to move. He snapped his hips, over, and over, each delicious drag of his cock making you cry out. His pace was brutal almost immediately, and you were clinging on to him like that was all you were meant to do, to take everything he had to give you.

“Goddamn, you’re taking my cock so well baby. Mhmm, doing such a good job,” His words were coming out in between moans and whimpers, the feeling of you cunt clutching him so well making him just as desperate as he made you. “This is what you needed, hm pretty girl? Yeah, me too.”

He had your knees nearly pressed up to your chest by then as he fucked you into the matress, and you took it happily. You nodded eagerly, gripping his hair and pulling his face from your neck to meet your gaze. “You’re.. You’re mine, mkay? Just mine.”

Your words of ownership caught him by surprise, and he laughed between pants, biting down on his lip and he hovered over you enough to press his forehead against yours, the change in angle allowing him to hit your most sensitive spot, and he had you mouth wide open.

“Yours huh? I’m yours?” He asked with a wide smirk, your words clearly riling him up. You nodded quickly. “This dick is just yours, right baby? Is that what you want me to say? That no one else can have me? That no one else deserves it?”

He grunted out the words, lacking as much control as you did, but still in control enough to taunt you, to get you going, and fuck, he got you going like one else could. You were practically screaming ‘yes!’ at the top of your lungs. Your neighbors probably knew Leon was back by then. But neither of you could honestly be bothered to care about noise.

“Yes! Yes, only I can have you.” Your words were broken, your voice was absolutely broken in between fits of sobs. Your hands were gripping at his blonde strands as your toes curled, the flash of heat you so desperately craved to feel a second time settling in your body as you continued to take in his punishing thrusts. But you still managed to say, “Please say it. That you’re mine. Fuck, please say it.”

Fuck, when you begged him like that, so close to falling apart for him, how could he ever deny you anything?”

The moan that fell from his lips at your words left you shaking, but you were not ready for what he decided to do next. He leaned down, as close as he could to your face, lips almost touching as he wrapped his large hand around your throat, and between pants he said, “I’m all yours baby.”

You don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your entire life, and Leon felt it. His mouth fell open and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as your walls clenched around him, hard. A shaky whimper left his mouth as his hips started to falter, his thrusts becoming more sharp and shallow the closer he was to his own release. You held him tightly, fingers gripping his hair and his name left your lips in soft sighs enticing him to fall apart as well.

“Mmm goddamn, I’m so close. Fuck, let me come inside you baby. Ugh,” His words were shaky, so close to falling apart. You nodded eagerly, clinging onto to him as he squeezed your throat, his moans getting louder and shakier before he fell still, cock twitching as he spilled himself inside you, “Ooooh fuck, mhmm that’s it baby. Take it like the good girl that you are.”

You closed your eyes in delight, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you ran your fingers through his slick hair soothingly, his hand now resting beside your head just as he rested his face on your neck. His quick and heavy breaths were hot on your neck, just as his body was hot on yours, but neither of you wanted to move, or leave the other. He needed you to hold him, and you needed him to let you. He never wanted you to doubt what he felt for you, ever again.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, holding each other, Leon still inside you. Probably once he no longer had the energy to keep his weight off you, so with a kiss to your jaw, he moved away, lying beside you instead. He ran a hand through his disheveled and sweaty strands, getting his hair away from his face. With a lazy smile, he glanced over at you, equally fucked out, hair just as sweaty and disheveled as his. He bit his lip softly and leaned over to press a soft kiss to your lips. You hummed softly, bringing your hand to hold his face.

“Mmm, I think I should make you jealous more often if you’re gonna fuck me like that.” He laughed softly, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You pulled back enough to look at him and you glared at him, nudging his head away. He only laughed harder.

“That was no jealousy, you asshole.” You rolled your eyes at him, lips slightly pursed, but the way he smiled at you and tilted his head made you crack a small smile. “I’m serious. Leon I swear to God if I find out you contact her again I will stab you in your sleep with your own knife.”

Leon knew your threat of bodily harm wasn’t serious, but he knew the reason behind it was, he knew he hurt you after Raccoon City, and it took him a long time to earn back your trust, and he would never put you through that again.

“I won’t, I want nothing to do with her. I never did. I love you, that’s never going to change, yeah?” He leaned forward, a small smile tugging at his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile too. You believed him.

“I know. I love you too.”

“Good. Now I’ll go run us a bath for round two.” He shot you a wink as he got up and laughed when he saw the look you gave him, “That was a joke. I meant to get cleaned up.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and simply shook your head as you watched him walk across your bedroom, but when he was about to walk out, you called his name.

“Yeah baby?” He said, peeking his head into your bedroom from the hallway.

“So, when are we getting married?”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #resident evil 4 remake

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renjunphile · 24 days

Text

kiss, cry, fall in love ☆ jung sungchan

୨♡୧ WORD COUNT: 19.3k ୨♡୧ PAIRING: riize's jung sungchan x female!reader ୨♡୧ TAGS & WARNINGS: figure skating!au, skater!sungchan, skater!yn, friends that kiss to lovers!au, secret/hidden relationship, fluff, angst, mentions of anxiety and skating-related minor injuries, lots of pining, lots of internal monologuing, lots of making out descriptions but no smut!, non linear narrative ୨♡୧ SYNOPSIS: jung sungchan is completely, utterly and hopelessly whipped for the struggling skater who keeps him at an arm's length, yet loves the feeling of his mouth on hers in every corner of the globe.

୨♡୧ NOTES: im sorry this is SOOOO long and its just y/n and sungchan being so cute and head over heels for each other. it's kinda a self-indulgent fic and i didn't really explain the figure skating terms, but i think you can make do without knowing what they mean (ask me anything if you wanna know tho!) pls enjoy this cute piece :) anyway, miss u seunghan!!!

⋆｡°✩

SKATE AMERICA, OCTOBER 2023

Your first love will always be figure skating. There was something about the way the cool air kissed and then smothered your face as you stepped onto the ice, and something about the way your sharp blades screeched as it cut through the top layer. There was something about the way the lights around you reflected on the glossy surface and the way you felt like you were most yourself while cutting through the air.

Your first love is figure skating, and everything to do with it- from the 5am call for training, to the sleepy drives all around the country and the world to get to your competitions, to the cheering, the gasps and the booing from the audience, to the gifted plushies making their home on your couch in your living room, to the stumbles and the landings, to the kiss and cry and most of all, to the skating.

Figure skating was also your first heartbreak- one that you were still trying to get over.

The arena you were competing in today was a familiar one, since you'd completed competitions in both the junior and senior circuit here a couple of times. Over the years, your nerves had truly eased up a little - never totally, of course, but you were always more excited than nervous no matter how well you thought you'd fare.

Still, the familiarity of the layout and the size and the ice was no help towards the pit growing in your stomach that you hadn't felt in competition in years. No matter- you woke up with that dread every single day for months now.

The stands had fallen into a hitched silence when they announced your name over the speaker. You had opened the barrier to the rink with a deep breath and one last forlorn look to your coach, who diverted her eyes quickly from you after a tense smile. It was weird; this was one of the loudest crowds in the grand prix circuit, but for you- last to skate in the short- you could hear a pin drop.

This time last year, you were on top of the world going into your first assignment of the season. You were fresh off the back of an amazing run at your very first Winter Olympics, helping your team secure gold medals in the team event and yourself a silver for your own effort. You had been skating in ice shows left and right in the midst of creating new routines for the new season, and you were on a high in life.

The season had passed well- you won gold, and then silver at your grand prix assignments, cruised through the grand prix final and then swept your discipline at nationals. You medalled for the 4th year running at 4 Continents and then all that was left was worlds.

Easy right? All you had left at the end of the best season of your career was the World Championships against all the skaters you had been consistently beating for years.

Anyway, back to the present.

You continued inhaling and exhaling consciously and intentionally for a while and it felt like forever before the first notes of your music began to boom into the arena and you could make your first move.

All eyes were on you.

It took you a split second to snap yourself from the sudden stage fright that had come over you. For a second there, you had thought that your feet refused to move from their starting position and had anchored themselves to the ice, but thankfully your brain and muscles had connected after a brief pause to send you on your first lap around the rink.

You had a few seconds to compose yourself and perform some intricate arm waving before your very first, and most difficult jump- one you had been rigorously training over and over and over again since the end of the last season when it had sabotaged your Worlds free skate.

When on the ice, the faces of the audience blurred into one continuous mass. You were thankful for this, otherwise you would be staring at the anxious expressions of hundreds of people that would bury and make home in your already fluttering stomach.

You sighed heavily to yourself before beginning the lead up to your jump. You told yourself that even if you didn't make it, it wouldn't affect how the rest of the routine went- you wouldn't let it.

You made the dreaded turn to start skating backwards and counted to 3 in your head before you turned again to take off forward, throwing your arms around yourself and launching your body in the air. You wish you could say that you knew what happened afterwards, but all you know is that you landed on the correct feet and the arena burst into cheers. You prayed that you landed your triple axel, but who knows at this point.

You let out a sigh of relief and continued with the rest of your programme that was ingrained in your mind. You were pretty much running on autopilot, which was not always what you preferred to do in competition. You wanted to be more in control, but honestly whatever got you through this skate would be okay.

The rest of the skate flew by and with each jump and element, you began to loosen up and the cloud in your mind began to dissolve. By the end of it, you could clearly make out the relief and pride splattered on your coach's face.

She gave you a tight squeeze when you opened the gate once more and cooed into your ear how proud she was of you, not that a blip in your routine would make her any less proud.

"Let's go to the kiss and cry and then i'll treat you to whatever you want," your coach Lina squeezed your hand with a reverent smile.

"Well now it sounds like you're bribing me to skate well," you grabbed a Keroppi plushie from one of the attendants that had cleaned up after you, giving her an appreciative smile.

"I always believe that you'll do well," she uttered back.

She sat you down in the middle of the bench and you gave smiles and waves to the camera pointing at you. You finally got to review yourself on the screens showing the live feedback of the broadcast and you were elated to find out that you had in fact landed your triple axel perfectly, instead of just a double.

The score blared out your season's best, just cause it was the start of the season, and it was on par with your scores from the start of last season, so you quickly celebrated and made your way to the media area and the changing rooms.

"Y/N!" you were greeted with a familiar squealing voice and were quickly enveloped in a tight hug.

"Sho! I didn't know you were coming!" you were so happy to see one of your friends around.

Shotaro pulled away and you noticed a towering figure beside him, holding a small bouquet of your favourite flowers, tulips.

"Sungchan," you smiled softly, "Hi."

His eyes were as sparkly as you always found them to be, his lips challenging the pinks on the flowers he was clutching.

He gave you a shy smile back and offered out the bouquet, "Taro and I got this for you. Congratulations on your short."

You wrapped your fingers around the stems and admired the vibrant orange and pink, "I bet you guys were holding your breaths. I know I was."

"It was incredible, as always," Sungchan assured you.

"Every skater goes through this, Y/N. We always know you're giving your best and we always believed you would recover," Shotaro hummed sincerely, "Anyway, we came because a lot of the gang is skating tomorrow. We begged our coach to let us come to this assignment and surprise you and the boys."

Shotaro was the first friend you made outside of your skating club in the junior ranks. He had approached you years and years ago, telling you he admired your skating and offered to be skating friends. In a career that was sending you everywhere around the world with never any stability, it was good to be friendly with people that could end up in the same assignments with you.

He had introduced you to the boys he had befriended himself and that was something you were so grateful for after you stopped finding yourself lonely in the cities you were drawn to.

You recalled seeing Anton and Wonbin drawn to this assignment too, but you hadn't had the chance to see them in their practice or otherwise.

"I'm gonna talk to a few reporters cause I can see my coach giving me some death stares to do them right now, but wait for me and we can get dinner? Or are you seeing the boys?"

"Toni and Bin have practice just after this and the others are watching, so we can get dinner just us and then we're hanging out in Anton's hotel suite after if you wanna join," Shotaro explained, "But yeah, go!"

You gave them both smiles and turned around to make a beeline for the press area, trying to ignore the booming feeling in your heart seeing the tall brunette for the first time in months.

⋆｡°✩

WORLDS, MARCH 2023

"Last to skate, Y/N Y/L/N."

You set off into a lap around the rink before settling in your starting position. You were well poised to walk away with the gold medal this competition, after ending up second in the short program and the competitor above you falling out of her combination in her free skate just before you. It wasn't that you prayed for the downfall of others, it was just that you had to take advantage of all you could.

Still, you were incredibly nervous. Your warm up and public training yesterday hadn't gone so smoothly considering you under-rotated your triple axel and landed your other quads shakily. You didn't know what was wrong with you- you were rounding off the best season of your career so far and this was just one last programme before you could have time to relax for a bit.

Lina gave you an encouraging thumbs up from the side and mouthed a good luck. You gave her a nod and waited for the music to start.

You had polished this routine to perfection, having performed it for two seasons already, so you were able to hit every piece of choreography perfectly as you led up to your first jump.

It was weird, the minute you began the lead up to the axel, this unfamiliar feeling began to nestle itself into your stomach and your mind and you didn't even have a split second to shake it away before you shot up in the air.

Then something snapped.

It felt like time had stopped and you were frozen mid spin in the air. The world had gone quiet and you could suddenly see the faces of everyone contort into worried gasps in slow motion. You didn't know how many times you spun in the air. It should have been 3 and half, but maybe it was 5 and maybe it was 2. It seemed like the laws of physics were non-existent as time suddenly snapped back into motion and you were on the floor the next moment.

You had no idea what was happening. Your mind had completely fogged up as you pulled yourself up. In the replays of this moment, you'd later see your coach in the background motioning for you to stop your skate and retreat, but you had bit your lip to stop the tears and continued your skate.

It was as if you blacked out for the rest of your free skate. All you remember was spinning around and around and trying your hardest to get back on track, but that was incredibly difficult when you had popped out of your quad lutz and fell again on your triple-triple. The audience was stunned, watching in silence and shock as the most likely contender of the competition was skating the worst in her entire career. Even in your junior years, you had never placed lower than 5th and you had certainly never popped out of your jumps before. You could probably count on one hand how many times you had fallen in competition, and this skate was obliterating that statistic.

You received your score in the kiss and cry stoic and unmoving. As soon as the cameras switched, you bolted to the halls of the arena while your coach shouted behind you. It took less than a minute for you to lose her as you navigated the maze of the 'backstage'. You were running on your skates (protected, of course) and you were running on some kind of adrenaline that was currently preventing you from breaking down. It would run out soon enough.

You had finally run into a corridor where the lights weren't activated until you stepped into them, so you had felt safe enough to hide in one of the rooms in the hopes they were empty.

The one you had barged into was a small dressing room, but evidently it was occupied by some people judging by the skate guards on the coffee table and the Team Korea jackets thrown on the couches. You didn't care as long as it was empty.

The silence dawned on you after the ringing that had been plaguing your ears since you came off the ice. It was then that all your emotions erupted and you fell to the floor in body-shaking sobs.

You had no idea what had happened at all. Nothing in the world could explain it and you had never felt like this skating ever again. In fact, skating always made you happy- it was the one thing in life that felt like it was for you. You never belonged anywhere else doing anything else. Skating was it.

So why did that happen?

You had heard of a phenomenon in gymnastics- the twisties. It was the sensation of losing yourself in the air, with your mind and body disconnecting in the middle of an element. It was one of the scariest things that could happen to a gymnast, and maybe that was what you had experienced.

Your tears were falling like a rainstorm on your sequinned dress and you felt the creeping of a throbbing and thunderous headache as you cried into the couch.

That was probably why you couldn't hear the door opening and a tall, young figure skater strolling in with a hum before he stopped in his tracks, noticing you on the floor, "Uh-"

Your eyes snapped to the leaning figure and you couldn't even make out who it was through the tears.

"Y/N?"

That was a voice you knew anywhere.

"Sungchan."

⋆｡°✩

SKATE AMERICA, OCTOBER 2023

"Where's your next assignment again?" Shotaro mumbled out through his mouth full of noodles. The three of you were in a hole-in-the-wall ramen restaurant downtown in the city, somewhere that one of your club-mates had recommended.

You grimaced, urging him to finish his bite first before speaking, "France. So soon."

"That's my first event," Sungchan hummed, sitting diagonally across from you.

Sungchan was one of the quieter ones around you. Of course, that possibly didn't reflect his usual personality around his friends while you were absent, but you'd noticed that in a large group, he tended to flitter on the outskirts and just listen.

"I'm off to Canada in a few days and then to Japan," Shotaro added, "I keep telling the federation to invite some lower ranked skaters to give them Grand Prix experience, but they keep including me in their domestic picks."

"Oh what a shame! You're popular in Japan!" you rolled your eyes playfully and chuckled at him, Sungchan joining along with you.

"Yeah, whatever. I want to experience other assignments. You know i've never been seeded to France?" Shotaro grumbled, "But yeah, I guess a home crowd is always the best crowd."

"The only time I experience a home crowd like that is for nationals, where all my competitors are also the same nationality. Then no one has a home crowd advantage," you mused, "I hope I make it to the final though- I haven't been to Italy in a long time!"

"I believe in you," Sungchan cheered timidly. You returned his musings with a gummy grin.

"Thanks, Sung. After Worlds I stopped believing that phrase, to be honest, but I think I'm getting better at internalising it."

"Ah yeah," Shotaro hissed, "A lot of the guys haven't seen you since. I don't know how much you want to talk about it; do you want me to tell them not to ask?"

"Thanks for being considerate, Taro," you said, "But I think i'm okay to talk about it if they ask. I think I'm coming out the other side of that dark tunnel now. And my therapist says talking about it is the best way to get over it. I guess she's paid to talk about it with me so maybe she just says that so our appointments aren't filled with silence."

Your best friend gave you an understanding nod and continued digging into his bowl of ramen. A comfortable silence fell between the three of you as you finally stopped chattering and were able to divulge into your food. You made small talk about the bowl in front of you- how good the broth was, how chewy the noodles were and how tender the meat was.

After the bill was split three ways, you huddled into the back of a taxi that was taking you to the hotel that most skaters had booked for the competition. You were squished in the middle, thanks to your shorter stature compared to Sungchan and Shotaro, but in an effort to not make Sungchan uncomfortable, you tried to scoot closer to Shotaro. It was pretty much a futile attempt considering the way Sungchan's broad shoulders sprawled over his seat and yours.

Still, you sneaked some glances over to the quiet Korean, who was peering out of the window and watching the busy streets of downtown Texas. His side profile was one you admired, with his enviable nose bridge and plump lips that were pulled into a somewhat pout as his eyes followed the people and the lights outside.

"Hm?" Shotaro poked you with a whisper, "You okay?" You didn't even know that you had dissociated and were staring expressionlessly out through the windshield.

With this, Sungchan snapped his head to you, eyebrows pulled in concern as you dismissed them with a wave, "Yeah i'm fine guys. Just thinking about stuff."

"Well don't plague that pretty head of yours. We're here tonight to help you take your mind off things," Shotaro was well aware that you still had some anxiety about skating and competing, and he mainly dragged Sungchan along to Texas just to help you through your first competition since your disastrous World's run.

Sungchan hummed along, agreeing with Shotaro and soon enough, the taxi was pulling up in front of your hotel. You rolled your eyes when Shotaro pressed on the penthouse button in the elevator; Anton often booked the most expensive suite at his competition hotels, claiming his environment had to be perfect or else it would affect his performance. Whatever, all the more space for all of you to hang out.

Sungchan produced a keycard from his pocket and you could already hear some commotion from the other side of the door. As soon as you heard the beep and the click of the lock opening, you felt a stampede of footsteps running towards the door.

"Noona!" Anton beat everyone to wrapping his arms around you, "Haven't seen you in forever."

"Yeah, I know. I've been a recluse these past few months. I missed you guys though," you giggled into his neck.

"Congratulations on the short," Eunseok hummed as he hugged you.

You received the same sentiments from the rest of the boys before you were being dragged over to the plush L-shaped sofa that they had begun to make their home at, judging from the blankets and jackets and snacks.

"Are you guys excited for tomorrow?" you asked Anton and Wonbin, recalling that the men's short program commenced in the afternoon.

"Excited, nervous; it's all the same emotions," Wonbin shrugged, "I kind of hurt my knee in practice today so hopefully it's okay tomorrow."

You winced at the prospect of an injury. It was so difficult to gauge how much certain bumps and grazes could actually affect you until you're on the ice and giving your all.

"Don't hurt yourself, okay?" Seunghan nudged his friend as he nuzzled into the corner with his blanket.

"Yeah, trust me, you don't want to make it worse," Sohee groaned. He had been dealing with a knee injury for a better part of 6 months and he was praying it would miraculously heal itself before his first assignment in one month.

You plopped down in the middle of the couch and to your surprise, Sungchan took his seat next to you. You tried not to make a big deal out of it, meeting his eyes for a brief second before turning your attention to Eunseok and Shotaro rock-paper-scissoring over who was choosing the movie. Shotaro won and the rest of you groaned, knowing that he was about to subject you to Studio Ghibli film again. For as long as you knew the boys, which was a long time, but you hardly saw them, you had cycled through the whole roster maybe 3 times over.

"How about we don't watch a movie and just chat shit instead?" Seunghan murmured sleepily from his position, "Like to start with, how's everyone's love life going? Any updates?"

You threw a pillow at him, knowing the question was directed at you. The 7 boys were attached to the hip in Korea, all training at the same rink (how the coaches managed that, you don't quite know) for the majority of the off-season. They knew everything about each other.

"Yeah, Y/N, how's your love life?" Sohee teased with a shit-eating grin.

"Non-existent, as always," you rolled your eyes, "I literally don't interact with any guys outside of the 7 of you in this room and that's even a stretch. The only man in my life is my cat at home."

"Why don't you date one of us then?"

Sungchan erupted into a coughing fit and you all looked at him strangely before deciding to address Wonbin's crazy suggestion.

"Sorry, swallowed my spit wrong," Sungchan avoided your eyes and chugged the water bottle he had snatched from the coffee table. He was thankful that everyone moved on from him.

"Wonbin, what the fuck?" you turned back to the long-haired skater, "Are you in love with me or something?"

"Psh, you wish," he dismissed, "But i'm just saying it makes sense. We've been friends for years, you trust us, you can't be bothered to go look for a man and i'm sure the thought of dating even just one of us won't kill you."

"Shut up, Bin. Did you hit your head or something cause that's some crazy allegations there," you defended, "You can't skate with a concussion, you know that right?"

"I'm legit fine," he rolled his eyes and began annoying Eunseok who was sat cross-legged next to him.

Your relationship with these boys was somewhat complicated, you would say. They were your closest friends in the skating world, but you also barely saw them and befriended each one on different levels.

You knew Shotaro better than everyone and you considered him a brother to you, meanwhile Sohee and Anton felt like your children since they adored you so much. Seunghan and Wonbin were your drinking buddies in whatever corner of the world you could find them in and you found yourself museum-hopping with Eunseok more often than not.

And then Sungchan. Ah, Sungchan.

Sungchan was just a consistent and quiet presence in your life. You didn't know much about him but he always appeared in the most random times. You weren't sure if Sungchan just treated you nicely because he felt obligated to because of your friendship with the others, or if his considerate but small gestures were out of his own friendly affection for you. There were phases that you convinced yourself that Sungchan disliked you and merely tolerated you for the sake of the others, but he would always prove you wrong otherwise in ways that you like to cast out of your memories.

Sungchan remained pretty quiet for the rest of the night, only chirping in when he felt like he could add something to the conversation, but the warmth radiating from his body next to yours gave you constant comfort. You would say the two of you were friends, but it was hard to quantify and label what you and Sungchan were exactly.

Eventually, Anton and Wonbin began dropping hints that they were tired and needed to rest up for their skate tomorrow, so you began to usher the boys into their rooms. The two competitors were sharing the three-bedroom penthouse, but with the surprise from the boys, they were having to squeeze 7 to the suite. Of course, Anton and Wonbin needed their beauty sleep, so the rest of them were cramming themselves into the 2 king beds in the third bedroom.

The two skaters bid their goodbyes first and you gave them good luck hugs, promising to watch the event tomorrow if you were able. This left the other boys and you standing around the coffee table looking at each other with no purpose.

"Uh, Shotaro and I are going to the gym," Wonbin began.

Sungchan perked up at this, "Oh! Let me co-"

"No!" Shotaro cried out suddenly, "You're not invited! Sorry! C'mon Bin let's go get changed," he dragged the smiling boy towards the spare room in the suite.

You looked around in confusion, noticing Eunseok, Sohee and Sunghan looking mischievous, "We're going to get chicken," Sohee declared, "I know you don't eat fried chicken so close to competition, right Channie? So why don't you walk our dear Y/N to her room? It's dangerous out there, you know?"

Their intention must have flown over your head as you furrowed your eyebrows together and shook your head, "It's okay Sungchan, I can go by myself! It's only a few floors down and you should rest. Must have been a long flight."

He mirrored your action as he reluctantly tugged on your arm, "It's okay; I'll walk you. I wanna get something from the vending machine anyway."

You gave him an unsure look, but relented when he returned a confident smile. You said good night to the boys who were slipping on their jackets and followed Sungchan out of the suite.

"I'm sorry they made you do that and they all just left you," you scurried after him. His long legs were definitely no match for you, "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything so you can just go down to the machine!"

"Hey," he interrupted your ramblings as the two of you entered the elevator, "Don't worry. We're friends, right? And I would hate if something happened to you on the way down. You have a pretty crazy fanbase, you know?"

You grimaced, thinking back to the time that a couple of fans had stalked you around Toronto when you had competed there once. Sungchan was right, in fairness- you never know what information people have access to.

"Thanks, Channie," you reluctantly called him by his affectionate nickname that the others loved to coo at him, "I also think they decided that you're the most eligible bachelor for me, considering they all dipped and left you behind."

"Ah, they're crazy," he rolled his eyes, "Ignore them, please!"

The two of you had reached your floor and you were glad that your room was close to the elevator. You took out your keycard from your jacket pocket and opened the door. You hadn't had time to unpack before going to training the day before, so all that was in your room was your free skate dress hanging in the exposed wardrobe to let the wrinkles drop out, and your closed suitcases in the corner of the room.

"Well, uh," Sungchan scratched the back of his neck, "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Sungchan?"

He looked up at you with glimmering doe eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to come in?" you moved aside to give him the choice to.

He chuckled in amusement, "Yeah, I do."

He stepped foot into the room and kicked off his shoes while you peeled off your jacket. As soon as the lock clicked shut behind him, Sungchan snaked his toned arms around your waist and attached his lips to yours.

Okay, confession time.

Your relationship with Sungchan was incredibly, incredulously complicated.

It all started 3 and a half years ago when your high school boyfriend broke up with you over the phone between your short and free skate in Canada. Sungchan had been the only other one of the group who was competing at the same assignment and although the two of you weren't close, the boys sent him to your hotel room with chocolate, tissues and a picture of him to rip up or stab with a pen.

You had embarrassingly cried your eyes out all over his training shirt and then pathetically asked him to distract you from the heartbreak by making out with you. You couldn't say that 18-year-old you was very smart or emotionally available. Well, to be honest, you still weren't particularly any better.

Anyway, the next day, the two of you decided to never talk about it ever again, swearing to never tell the boys anything and decided to continue with your semi-awkward acquaintanceship.

That was until the two of you stumbled into each other months and months later at a fellow skater's birthday party halfway across the world and ended up making out again in a coat closet for a good amount of time.

And then it carried on like that- finding places to make out around the globe, swearing not to say anything to anyone and then not talking about it ever again.

"We should really stop this, you know," you panted against his lips.

"You say that every time," Sungchan muttered, slotting his tongue between your lips and snaking his smooth hands to your throat, "But totally, yeah. We should stop this."

"Okay, this can be our last," you decided, as he led you over to your bed and pushed you gently down.

To be honest, you would say that you didn't know much about Sungchan despite making out with him 2 or 3 times a year because it was a correct statement. The two of you never really did anything else other than blow off some steam by making out. You never shared meals together or cuddled in bed indulging in pillow talk. It was always a transactional thing. It was weird in your head- all that the two of you did, but Sungchan was too good of a kisser for you to care about all the details of it.

"Better make it worthwhile, huh?" he peppered kisses down your neck until he reached the spot that had you putty in his hands. Sungchan knew better than to leave marks that your friends would definitely not let go of, so he just bit and sucked for a short time before connecting his lips back to yours. Your shirt had creeped up your torso, exposing a sliver of smooth skin that Sungchan attached his large hands to while he laid waste to all your emotions by kissing the breath out of you.

You didn't know how long had passed until Sungchan pulled away with blown out pupils and a pant. A small smile tugged onto the corner of his lips, which you couldn't help but poke, "What's with you?"

He giggled, "Nothing, nothing. You're beautiful, you know?"

A blush rose up to your cheeks and you broke your eye contact with him. It was weird- Sungchan seemed so confident when he was alone with you, but the moment he stepped out of the confines of your little situationship, he returned to being quiet and mysterious. You wished that you could get to know who the real Sungchan was.

"Shut up," you dismissed, cupping his chin and bringing his face down to yours. Sungchan stopped himself until your noses touched and he nudged his against yours sweetly before kissing you once again.

Kissing Sungchan felt like the world stopped spinning and it was only the two of you. All your worries disappeared and every stress left your body when Jung Sungchan's was on yours. He had this amazing power of making the world tilt on its axis the minute his lips touched yours and frankly, you were addicted to the feeling of him.

Your heart was completely and hopelessly beating out of your chest with the way his lips melded perfectly between yours and it was times like this, alone in a hotel room in a city you'll only ever see the ice rink of, that you forgot what your relationship with Jung Sungchan was.

"You should go," you murmured, halting his actions, "I have training early tomorrow."

"Yeah," he untangled his limbs from you and gave you a limp smile, "It's good seeing you again, Y/N. We haven't spoken in a while."

You internally cringe, thinking back to all those nights you sometimes contemplate texting him, only to realise you really don't text or speak at all outside of the groupchat. You think the last time you spoke was when you greeted him a happy birthday over text, and even that was a very fleeting exchange.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Channie," you felt the emptiness rise up again in your stomach as you walked him to the door. You were back to acting like nothing had ever happened between the two of you and as if walking you to your room was the only thing he did, "Thanks."

He bid you a soft goodnight and disappeared around the corner. Your hands rose up to your swollen lips and you sighed.

What were you actually doing?

⋆｡°✩

JUNIOR GRAND PRIX FINAL, DECEMBER 2017

"Urgh," you kicked the vending machine in anger as it withheld your drink in its clutches. It was a futile attempt as it sat on the edge of the shelf, taunting you. You gave it a few more hopeless kicks and groaned in frustration.

First, your triple salchow in your program was a total mess and definitely under-rotated, and now the vending machine wouldn't even disperse the drink that you paid the last of your Japanese coins for.

"Do you want some help?" a soft voice called out to you. You turned around and came face to face with who you presumed to be a skater judging from the pass hanging around his neck. He looked kind of familiar, you thought, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You tried to give your politest, "Sure," but he could probably tell you were annoyed.

He enveloped the vending machine between his two sprawling arms and gave it an abrupt shake. You sighed in relief as you finally saw the melon milk can tip over and fall into the hole.

"Ah, thank you," you crouched down to take the drink, "I'd buy you a drink for that but I just used the last of my money."

He gave you a dashing smile, finally meeting your eyes.

Ah, wow.

He was certainly an attractive boy, with light brown fluffy hair and eyes so big that it made you swoon. This guy was almost two heads taller than you, but he was still built from the soft definition of muscles you could see from his short-sleeve top.

"It's okay," he assured you, flashing you the coins in his palm, "I was gonna buy myself a drink. I'm Sungchan, by the way. I'm a skater from Korea and I'm competing tomorrow."

It clicked in your head suddenly, "Jung Sungchan? Shotaro's friend? I'm Y/N!"

He smiled sheepishly, "I know who you are, of course," he motioned to your ensemble consisting of your competition dress, "You literally just came off the ice, you know that? Plus, Taro talks about you all the time."

You looked down at your costume and your feet that were still in your covered skates, "Oh, yeah. It wasn't my best out there. Anyway, sorry for not recognising you- Shotaro also talks about you guys a lot but he never shows me pictures. It's my fault though- I know I've probably been at numerous assignments with you guys since I've known Sho."

Sungchan popped open his can of strawberry milk, "You're quite harsh on yourself, you know that? Shotaro always says that about you. It was an amazing skate and you swept your competitors. Even if you made a small mistake, it doesn't take away from the rest of your incredible elements. You should always be proud, because those who watch you always are."

You tilted your head at him, a near-stranger offering you some comforting words, "Ah, I've never thought about it like that. I guess I'm harsh on myself because I want to do this for as long as possible. My dream is to win an Olympic gold."

"You're probably the closest out of all of us. Your skate in Norway was out of this world!" he chided. It was true- you already had a Winter Youth Olympics medal, but that was never really a predictor for the real thing- wait, he was at Norway Youth Olympics. Maybe that's why he looks so familiar to you?

You fought the smile arising, "Well, skating's an unpredictable sport; you never know what can happen. You just have to hope for the best," Sungchan opened his mouth to reply, but you could see your coach appearing around the corner, "Ah! I have to go- my coach is coming! It was nice meeting you, Jung Sungchan. I'll definitely see you around and good luck for tomorrow!"

"You too, Y/N," Sungchan watched as you bounded over to your coach, happy to see that you were in a better mood than when he first encountered you. That feeling did something funny to his stomach.

⋆｡°✩

GRAND PRIX DE FRANCE, NOVEMBER 2023

You're on top of the world, and then suddenly you're not. That's the feeling you get when your blade collides with the ice so abruptly, shooting the pain all through your body as you fall on your triple axel again.

You think that you don't even breathe for the rest of the free skate, just running on pure adrenaline pumping through your muscles to get you out of this situation. Fight or flight was really taking over, but you knew that you could never step foot on the ice again if you decide to leave halfway through.

Your coach fussed over you as soon as you stumble out, shell shocked and delirious, but not yet crying.

"Y/N?" she snapped her fingers in front of your face, "Are you okay? Go to the medical team and get that checked out now," she ordered you.

They're satisfied that you didn't sustain any injuries with that fall; you think your mind took the worst of it. You're hunched over on the examination room bed, blanket around your shoulder and shivering.

All you need right now is someone to hold your hand and tell you everything's okay.

"Sungchan?" you whispered into the phone when the call finally connects.

"Y/N! What happened? Where are you?" he sounds breathless, as if he's been running around.

"I'm in the medical room," you looked around the empty room, thankful they gave you the privacy you needed to process, "Can you find me?"

"I'm coming, don't worry," he assured you, "For now, just breathe okay? Just make sure you're breathing. In and out, okay love?"

Love.

Sungchan doesn't bat an eye on this or even try to correct himself. It's something that slips out so naturally to him and that gets your mind going at another 100 miles per hour. Well, at least you weren't thinking about your skate.

It took Sungchan a few more minutes to find the medical room, having asked two staff members along the way. The whole time, he stays on the phone, making sure you're still okay.

He knocked twice and entered the room, finding you in the corner, just staring at his contact information on your phone. Sungchan pressed the hang up button and sighs in relief as he finds you.

Reluctantly, he approached the stiff bed and wrapped his arms around you. The second he does, you melt into his embrace and he's more confident to squeeze you tighter.

Your body begins to shake with sobs and Sungchan feels his shirt become damp, so he places his hand on your head and gave reassuring pats.

"Ah, let it out, Y/N. I know how hard that must have been for you," Sungchan whispered, hoping and praying he was saying the right things.

Falling was nothing new to Sungchan. He fell every day, even. But the immediate feeling you get after it never gets any better. You just have to get better at dealing with the aftermath. He knows you've fallen countless of times before, but after a nearly-traumatic competition all those months ago, he understands why nearly 8 years into your career, you're starting to deal with these new anxieties.

"You're okay, Y/N, you're safe," your sobs let up after a while, but he can still tell that you're still crying, "This is nothing. You're still in the Grand Prix Final and you're still the most amazing skater in the whole world."

You pull away and gave a half-hearted smile through the tears, "Just cause I'm having a breakdown doesn't mean you need to lie to me."

Sungchan is in awe at how beautiful you still look despite the tears rapidly falling. He tucks the hair in your face out of the way and tried to wipe some of the tears, "I'm not a liar. You're my favourite skater and you always have been, ever since juniors."

"Have a crush, do you?" you teased, sniffling and trying to finish up the release of emotions.

"And how bad would it be if I did?"

You tried to ignore him, you really did. You tried to ignore the way his words sent impulses straight to your heart and brain and made you dizzy.

Look, you weren't stupid. You were nearly friends with benefits with this guy and you knew how that usually ended- lovers or enemies. You had been suppressing any emotion all this time to postpone finding out which one you and Sungchan were gonna end up as.

"Y/N?" he called, pulling you out of the trance.

"Hm?"

"Come to Paris with me for a couple of days," Sungchan hums, taking your fingers and playing with them, "I'll help you take your mind off it all."

"Just you and me?"

You think about Eunseok and Seunghan, and how they had expressed their desire to come to Paris after the competition.

"Just you and me," he stated, "Let's just- keep it between us. A healing trip."

"What are you healing from?"

He brings his face close and nudged his nose against yours, "Seeing you cry breaks my heart every time, but I'm glad you come to me."

⋆｡°✩

Sungchan holds your hand the whole 3 hour drive to Paris the next day. While you were feeling better, and watching him skate to a gold also made you happy, you were still fighting your inner thoughts. You look over to your companion, his head resting on his shoulder with his pink lips slightly open as he let out deep breaths. He looked so pretty sleeping, you thought to yourself.

You felt like you were in a romantic film, to be honest. Outside the windows were the sprawling countryside of France between Angers and Paris, and his hand was intertwined with yours and you were sharing an earbud each from his wired headphones connecting to his phone.

You wish you could fall into a slumber like he had, so you wouldn't have to be faced with these thoughts about the two of you. Since your arrangement with Sungchan started, you refused to think about the possibility of anything more between the two of you, convincing yourself that friends was the only title you were destined to bear. When you think about it, you're actually in a much dire situation than you wish to be in. You know you'll have to confront these feelings soon enough the more that Jung Sungchan entwines his life with yours.

Then again, Jung Sungchan has always been in your life.

The minute after you met him at the Junior Grand Prix final when you were 16, you suddenly began to notice him all over the world. He was at nearly every grand prix assignment, every challenger series you participated in and every corner of the world. He was always just there and you never really realised that until recently.

It started off as shy smiles between the two of you and 'good luck's' in passing, and then happy waves and asking each other how you were. When you finally turned 18 and had more freedom at the competitions, you were able to explore town with the boys, Sungchan always in tow since the world loved to put the two of you together.

You didn't know everything about Sungchan but he had already seen you at your worst and at your best. That has to mean something, right?

"We're almost at Mr. Jung's requested destination," your driver cleared his throat, breaking you out of your spell.

You thank him quietly and face the task of waking up what you believe to be the most beautiful sleeping boy in the world.

You reached up to his eyes, pushing the hair out of the way and you cup his warm face with your cold hands. His eyelashes began to flutter, until he woke up at your touch.

"We're almost here," you told him.

He squeezes his eyes shut adorably as he stretches out his body, never breaking his hold on you, "Ah, I fell asleep? Sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"It's okay," you shrugged, "You must be pretty tired considering you had the whole competition and you were last to skate at the gala. You did so well yesterday."

You thought back to how you also met up for drinks with the other boys that night and didn't get into your hotel until 2 in the morning.

"I wanted to spend some time with you, though," he pouted and your head spins at the thought of wanting to kiss the pout off his face.

"We have a few days," you reminded him, "Speaking of, where are we going?"

Sungchan pulls his lips into a sheepish grin, "You might hate it but give me a chance, okay?"

He's right in saying that you absolutely hate the thought of it the second you stepped foot in the building. You pleaded him to do literally anything else in the world as he paid for the tickets and led you past the barriers. You're slow in putting on the equipment and grumbling as you meet him by the gate.

The ice rink is busy, bustling with teenagers, families, couples and everyone alike.

"Give me a chance," Sungchan echoed as he extended his large hands towards you. You nearly laugh at this gesture, considering the two of you were definitely the most experienced skaters on the rink and the possibility of falling was nearly 0, but then you look up at the other couples and groups on the rink, all holding hands as they tried to keep themselves upright.

"We've just spent the last week going around and around the ice until we were going crazy," you began as the two of you set off on a leisurely lap, "And your very best idea for our so called 'healing' trip was to do the same thing?"

He looked at you pleadingly, "Look, I know I can't change the way that skating makes you feel instantly in one day. But I want to get to know you a bit more- find out why you love skating in the first place and hope that I can help you in your journey in falling back in love with skating."

You're struck silent by his explanation, mouth agape. Sungchan smiled softly, tugging on your hand and doing some more intricate steps as you followed. Looking around, there were people of all abilities- adults stumbling and adults gliding, teenagers falling and teenagers spinning, and little children across the whole spectrum of abilities. You awed at the little girl who fell, but got back up immediately, cheeks flushed but expression determined.

There was some couples that you could make out- one partner would be hobbling, holding onto the railing, and then every so often, their more gifted partner would catch up to them in their lap and make conversation, usually grinning and laughing together despite the disparity in ability. You could see the couples holding hands, reassuring each other that they were supported and they weren't gonna let the other fall.

"I was already 9 when my parents first put me on the ice. I fell so many times that my legs were bruised and bleeding up and down both sides and they had to stop me from skating because I was tracking blood and it was a biohazard," Sungchan began, "I hated skating so much at the beginning because I was so bad and I hated being bad at things. I begged and begged my parents to put me into lessons and I was determined to be the best. I hit a stump when I was 13 and puberty hit. I hated how all the easy jumps I could land were suddenly the most difficult thing in the world and it took me a while to find my balance again since I grew so tall in a short period. The time that I hated skating made me realise all the more how much I loved it because it was just showing how much I was willing to give to the sport. That's it, that's my story."

"That's your whole story?" you let go of his hand and skate around him, holding eye contact.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "That's all there is to me. Once I started skating, nothing else mattered. All I do is hang out with you and the boys, and get on the ice at every other time. What's your story, Y/N?"

The two of you skate around an adorable child clutching onto a penguin aid and join again at your hands as you reminisced, "My older cousin loved to skate, so when she would babysit me, she would take me to the rink. At first, my parents hated the idea of that since they didn't want me to get hurt, but I took to skating immediately. It became my life too. School was hard- I was always leaving school early or coming late because of practice and I would be missing days at a time for competitions. I never made many friends at school because of that, so skating was my only friend. I loved everything, but I guess I'm hitting my stump now."

Sungchan hummed and nodded along, "Do you know why?"

"I know it's all in my head," you affirmed, "Me and my therapist agree. I know I can do these jumps and I know that I still do love this sport deep down. I think all the pressure is mounting onto me- you know, continually being the best? But it's all I have and it's driving me crazy. It's the only thing I can take pride in and I think I need something new alongside skating."

"Like what?"

"You're definitely helping," you admitted, looking down, "Not just you. Spending time with you guys is giving me a bit more purpose in life- striving to form better friendships. But you've helped me a lot."

Sungchan grins down at you, surprising you by planting a kiss at the top of your head. He had never been affectionate in public, considering the two of you were keeping a secret from the world, but in this small rink in the outskirts of Paris, he felt like he could shout to the world how he felt about you.

"I don't want you to dread competitions or tear yourself up over your falls. I know there's nothing I can personally say or do to help you, but I just wanna be here for you," Sungchan's words are nearly a confession, but you push that aside as you come to a halt by a little girl falling in the middle of the rink.

"Hey," you coo in your best French, "Are you okay?"

The little girl grabbed your hand with her little fingers and you swooned at how tiny she was. Her eyes are brimming with tears as she tries to find her feet again, so Sungchan grabs her other hand and helps her to stabilise.

He looks over at you, fondness in his eyes as you try to set off the little girl into a slow routine. She's giggling when she is finally able to skate on her own and she thanks you in a cute little voice when she does.

"What's the likelihood that she's gonna be a figure skater when she's older?" you lean against Sungchan's frame, watching her shoot off into the bend.

"Hm, pretty high. You just showed her that if someone's there to pick you up after you fall, it's all gonna be okay."

⋆｡°✩

GRAND PRIX FINAL, DECEMBER 2023

"Song Eunseok," you greeted your friend with a tight hug, and turned to the other, "Park Wonbin! Haven't seen you in a couple of months."

Wonbin affectionately nuzzled his head into your neck, "Did you miss us?"

"I don't know if miss is the right word. Maybe, noticed your absence is better," you teased back, "Isn't this exciting?"

The three of you took your seats right in the front row of the area you had reserved, you in the middle as you watched your best friends warm up on the ice. The other 5 were all participating in the grand prix final, having had the best results in their assignments of the season and were about to compete in the free skate to determine the medalists. Yours had just finished in the slot before, but you were still awaiting the awarding ceremony, hence you still in your costume.

"I would like to be on there with them," Eunseok grumbled, waving hello to a passing Shotaro, "But getting to watch with you isn't so bad."

"There's more seasons to come," you nudged his elbow, "Everyone's on top form this season."

"Especially you, our newly crowned Grand Prix Final gold medalist," Wonbin excitedly clapped, "Three in a row, how does it feel?"

"Like the pressure is still crushing me," you dismissed, "But thank you, Bin. I'm happy."

You steer the conversation along in a different direction, talking about the boys' program and what you were looking forward to see. Anton had a mean quad combination, meanwhile Shotaro's dance elements and step sequences always blew everyone else out of the park. Although you had watched these routines time after time each season, you never got tired of how talented your best friends were.

"Ah right, you went to Paris right? After your assignment there?" Wonbin asked you suddenly.

Your face flushed beet red immediately, "Oh, how do you know?"

"You posted a picture of the Eiffel Tower on your Instagram," Eunseok butted in, "Who'd you go with?"

"Ah, no one you know. Just stopped by on the way to the airport," you lied through your teeth and you hated that you had to do that, but it was your decision anyway.

Sungchan was nearing your side of the stands, and he slowed down significantly as he sent the three of you a wave. You hadn't seen him yet since the end of your free skate that crowned you gold medalist, since he had to prepare to be on the ice immediately afterwards.

"Something's up with Sungchan these days," Wonbin began, eyes trained on the tall figure skating away.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, "But he's like, uh, happier these days? But also more secretive? He's always on his phone and smiling at it and he always sighs when we mention setting him up on a date. Do you think he has a girlfriend he's keeping from us?"

Eunseok nodded along, "I've been noticing that too, actually. What do you think Y/N?"

Your ears flushed red and you prayed they wouldn't notice as you kept your eyes on the boys warming up, "Why are you asking me? You guys spend the most time with him. Plus, why don't you just ask him yourself or wait for him to tell you?"

In all honesty, you were burning with guilt about keeping such a huge secret from the boys, but you and Sungchan were suddenly treading into new territory that you wanted to navigate together first before anything else.

"When we ask him he just changes the topic," Wonbin answered, "To be honest, I thought he had a crush on you. We all did."

"Me?" you exclaimed, looking between the two of them nodding.

"He always talks about you and we thought that was so weird considering you two didn't even seem that close. Channie always asks Taro how you are and we're like: 'why don't you text her yourself?' and then he gets all shy and flustered," Eunseok rambled, "But I guess not."

"Yeah," you trailed off the word, decidedly ending the conversation as the boys evacuated the rink for the first skate.

The thought of Sungchan asking the boys about you made you feel some way- happy, maybe? It was so adorable that he thought of you and that texting you made him shy. You weren't stupid- Sungchan made his intentions clear towards you, but the two of you drew a line and stayed behind it, so you weren't sure what to think. These days, it seemed like Sungchan was destroying that line inch by inch.

Anton was first to skate, so the three of you focused your attention to him instead. A grand prix final with 5 of your best friends was definitely conflicting, but the boys all agreed to never get angry or too competitive with each other and just cheer for each other. Whoever won, won and that was that.

You were glad that all the boys were making it through their programs cleanly and the scores were all in such close proximity to each other that it was actually unclear who might win. Sungchan was last to skate by luck of the draw and by the time it was his turn, you were nearly biting your nails off in anticipation.

While you try not to have favourites between the boys, considering them all to be equally talented in their own ways, Sungchan just had a way of skating that spoke to you. You determined this even before your arrangement.

For a skater his height, he was incredibly graceful with long limbs creating beautiful lines and silhouettes. Despite his abnormally broad shoulders, his jumps were well balanced and tight, and his athleticism made all of them look so easy. His choreographer and coach really used all of his features and abilities to create the most visually stunning and technically superb skate.

"Hyung's been on fire this season," Wonbin muttered beside you, in awe of his friend that was so magnificently treading the ice.

"He's incredible," you agreed softly.

Sungchan was incredibly passionate about figure skating. Of course, you all were since it was your careers and if you didn't love what you were doing, you would quickly burn out. He just had this fire in him that you hadn't seen reflected in other people in a very long time, and that's what you admired about him.

Pushing your own feelings for him aside, you watched him intently as he led up to the most difficult skill in his arsenal- the three of you in the stands all linked arms and muttered prayers and pleadings. It felt like you were on the ice instead- you couldn't breathe until it was over.

"1, 2," you counted under your breath as he took off into his quad lutz. It was almost as if you watched him jump in slow motion, counting every turn until he landed, switched sides of his blades with an euler, before taking off into his triple flip.

You were still holding your breath when Wonbin and Eunseok dragged you up as they jumped up to cheer and whoop at the clean landing and combination. Jung Sungchan was truly one of a kind.

"He's so good," Wonbin squealed as you sat back down to watch him finish off his program, "Crazy good."

You're completely captivated by him for the rest of his skate and it even takes your coach multiple tries to catch your attention to tell you to come down to prepare for the victory ceremony. You plead to wait until Sungchan finished his skate and she just clicks her tongue and gives you a knowing smile.

The rest of the event goes by in a whirlwind, accepting your medals and flowers and taking pictures with your fellow medallists. You speak to some media and change into your comfier clothes, relaxing in your self-prescribed dressing room, which was just an empty room with a table and a couple of chairs.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your trance thinking about your program, and you shouted for them to come in.

"My gold medalist," Sungchan grinned over at you from the door as you jumped up to greet him. He's holding a gorgeous arrangement of flowers in his arms, extending it to you once more, "A gift from us."

You took the flowers, admiring the colours and the smell, before placing it down with the other gifts and your medal, "You guys are always so sweet to me. Congratulations to you as well; that was one of the best programs i've seen in my life!"

"Thank you, Y/N. And Taro says you're our only ice princess so we should spoil you," Sungchan chuckled, slowly approaching you closer and closer, "Anyway, they asked me to come and get you so we can go and get dinner together."

"They asked or you volunteered?"

A smirk took over his face, "Now why would I want to get you alone?"

"Who knows?" you teased as his large hands cupped your cheeks and guided your face to his. All tiredness left your body as you melted into his kiss and you wished that time would stop so you could do this forever.

He captured your lips with his own soft and plump lips, nibbling and kissing so softly and delicately, as if he would break you. It was worlds away from the way you two would make out ferociously in dimly lit hotel rooms after competitions ended at night. It was intentional, sweet and utterly heart-clenching.

"My gorgeous champion," Sungchan murmured against your lips, connecting them again passionately as he snaked his arms around you.

"Channie, we talked about this," you whispered, "We're just getting to know each other still."

Sungchan playfully rolled his eyes and left a fleeting peck before he pulled away, "I know, I know. Let's go before the boys get suspicious?"

He offered out his hand after you picked up all your things and you laced your fingers together and walked out side by side.

⋆｡°✩

PARIS, NOVEMBER 2023

November in the city of love and enlightenment was certainly a chilly ordeal. You were wrapped up in infinite layers, face red and tucked behind a wooly scarf and hat. You would think that since your profession was being around literal ice all day that you would be acclimated to the cold, but Paris was tearing you a new one with its weather.

You and Sungchan were taking a stroll by the River Seine, people watching and basking in each other's quiet company. The thing with Sungchan was that you felt comfortable with him; you's been friends for 6 years anyway, but all this time, you had kept him at arms length in order to protect your heart. Sungchan was still somewhat of a mystery to you- all his thoughts and all his feelings unknown.

"I heard that at night in the summer, they have people play live music here and people will dance along all night," Sungchan sighed, watching the couples stroll by with arms and hands interlocked, bundling together tight to warm each other up.

"That really sounds amazing," you replied, trying to stop yourself imagining dancing with Sungchan by a twinkling river on a cool summer night, "I want to come to Paris again when it's warmer and fully explore it!"

"We should do a trip," Sungchan said and you don't even ask if he meant as a group or just the two of you.

"Y/N?" he called again.

"Hm?"

He stopped to lead you to an empty bench, sitting with a considerable gap away from you before he made the bold move to shuffle closer. Sungchan stared you in the eyes with a longing gaze, "How come you trust me so much? How come you let me stay through your vulnerable moments when I know you don't do that with the others?"

You paused to think momentarily about his question that you'd pondered yourself during sleepless nights many times, "You're always just there. Whenever I end up in a situation like that, you somehow always find me like you have some spider-sense that i'm breaking down. And your presence calms me; you don't even need to say anything," you talked through your thought process slowly, trying to make it make sense in your head as well, "I feel like you understand me well whereas others may feel like I'm self absorbed and selfish for freaking out over such minor mistakes. And I can just feel in my heart that I can trust you. Thank you for always being there for me, Sungchan. I hope I don't burden you with my own breakdowns."

Sungchan smiled shyly, taking your gloved hands between his, "I'm really thankful that you do trust me. Don't ever think that you burden me because I do want to be there for you. Me and the boys hate seeing you so upset, so whatever I can do to help you through is nothing for me; we're in such a demanding field that it's important to have a good support system."

"You guys have really made my career. I don't know how I could have lasted this long without all of you," you emphasised the 'all', hoping he would catch on to your allusion of how special he was to you.

"You know, Y/N," he began, voice suddenly shaking and nervous, "I've been meaning to get some time alone with you in the daytime to talk for a while now."

You chuckled anxiously, "Did you take me to Paris to break up with me? Break up as in end our arrangement?"

"I like you, Y/N," he deadpanned, dismissing your pessimistic comment. Your heart started beating fast instantly, "I really like you and I can't carry on what we have until I tell you. We can move forward however you want: we can end the arrangement or just carry on as we are, but I just wanted to tell you."

His words don't shock you much. You think Sungchan has been confessing in his own little gestures and actions for some time now, but he finally threw the ball in your court.

You looked down at your intertwined hands, smiling softly and exhaled a puff of white frost, "We were bound to fall for each other, right? I just don't want to to hurt you since I've been in a bad place this past few months. I'm slowly getting out of it, but I just don't want to drag you down with me."

"I just want to be by your side," Sungchan whispered gently, "I just want to be able to kiss you in front of the world and call you mine."

"In front of the world?" you teased, ignoring the way your heart was swooning at his sweet confession.

"I know it's selfish of me, but I don't want to hide you forever," Sungchan voiced out, "I want to text you how you are and not feel like I'm overstepping and I have so much more of myself I want to give you."

You finally met his eyes again, "Let's make a deal, Jung Sungchan. Let's get to know each other well and more intentionally over the rest of the season and try that out. When it ends, we can think about what's next."

"I like the sound of that," Sungchan grinned, "I can still kiss you though, right? I think I'd die without it. The months between Worlds and your first assignment was hell for me."

"You're so dramatic," you rolled your eyes playfully, nudging your shoulders against his.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Sungchan?"

"Does that mean you like me back?"

You let out a laugh that Sungchan swears is the best thing he's heard in his life, and you pulled him by your entwined hands, telling him you want to go see the Eiffel Tower.

⋆｡°✩

SOUTH KOREA, APRIL 2024

Shotaro is smiling happily as he placed the orange juice pouch in front of you on the sand. You're sat on a blanket, knees tucked up to your chest as you watched the waves crash against the rocks peacefully. You think it's a good time to swim since the tide might be too strong later.

"Thank you," you coo at your best friend as he laid down beside you, flicking his sunglasses over his eyes.

You pierced the pouch with the straw and let out a happy sigh as the freezing cold juice invaded your taste buds. Late April in the south coast of Korea was thankfully warmer than the previous weeks you spent in Seoul with a new choreographer, piecing together your new program for the upcoming season.

The beach house behind you does very little to block out the sun, considering the sun is shining the opposite way and down to you, so you had made sure to lather up in sunscreen before relaxing on the beach. You had read half your book before Shotaro woke up from his short post-breakfast power nap and decided to join you on the sand.

"I think Anton and Sohee are still asleep cuddling," Shotaro laughed. You had tried to wake up the pair for breakfast, but they had both grumbled and sent you on your way back to the kitchen, nestling into their shared bed even more.

"They can be in charge of lunch then," you huffed, "When's everyone else coming? What time is it?"

"It's only 11:30," he told you, "I think the other 4 are all arriving together soon- maybe around now."

You, Shotaro, Anton and Sohee were able to make it first to the beach house that you all booked for a peaceful week and a half trip. You had already stayed the night, but the other boys had commitments that meant they could only come now. It was all fine, since you were there for a pretty long time anyway.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as Shotaro closed his eyes and took in the fresh sea breeze.

"How have you been since Worlds?" Shotaro broke the silence.

"Better, but I'd hate to find out if my happiness only stems from redeeming myself at this year's Worlds," you recounted. The last time you had seen the boys previous to the trip was the Worlds Championship the previous month, the same competition that caused a year-long spiral down into near insanity. Thankfully, you managed to escape scot-free and with a gold medal around your neck.

"How does it feel now stepping onto the ice? Does that dread still overcome you?" Shotaro asked softly.

After your worst skate on the world stage, it had taken you nearly a month to step back onto the ice since every time you attempted, you were instantly tossed back into that moment. It took another month before you even tried attempting your signature triple axel again. At your first assignment, you had felt fear instead of excitement as you began.

"I don't think so," you said lowly, afraid that if you said it with anymore confidence, it would come back to haunt you, "I think i'm on the other side completely. I have you and the boys to thank for that."

Shotaro smiled proudly, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tight affectionately. You missed speaking like this to your best friend, just the two of you- on rooftops, beaches, cafés, ice rinks, diners- spilling your hearts and confiding in each other. You hated that you were still keeping such a big secret from him.

"Hyung? Noona?" you heard a soft voice call out behind you. You turned around to find Anton peeking only his head out of the double doors at the back of the house overlooking the beach, "The others are pulling up!" The two of you shot up, picking up your blanket, your book and your trash before skipping through the sand to reach the house.

You were nervous, quite honestly, but the good kind, which was new for you. You hadn't seen Sungchan since Worlds (though you've stayed much more connected than in the past when apart) and all you could think about was the agreement between the two of you to revise your arrangement once the season had ended. And it has.

However, the talk was still pending.

You joined Sohee and Anton watching from the wide open front door as the boys were getting their bags out of the car trunk and rolling it up the driveway.

"Vacation time!" Seunghan whooped, dancing into the house with his suitcase in tow and a plastic bag filled with clinking glass, "We're going to get fucked up this week!"

"Well hello to you too, Hannie," he approached you with open arms before you were pulled away into another hug.

"Hmph," you were taken by surprise as Wonbin crushed your frame.

"Haven't seen you in ages," he said sadly. He wasn't at Worlds since he had injured himself slightly at 4 Continents before that, so it had been a while.

"How are you?" you poked his arm, "How's the knee?"

"It'll be totally fixed up before the season starts," he dismissed, grinning at you before going to greet the boys. You quickly hugged Eunseok and turned your attention to the last one through the door.

"Sungchan," you quickly enveloped his waist in a tight hug and he wrapped his arms around your neck and leaned down to your ear.

"Hey there," you could feel him smiling, "Missed you."

You pulled away quickly, trying to not be obvious in front of the boys, simply giving him a smile of reciprocation as you all migrated to the living room.

"D'you guys claim rooms already?" Eunseok looked around at the interior of the beach house.

"Hm," Sohee nodded sleepily, "Anton and I took the double bed on the right of the stairs and there's a room with another double across it."

"My room has a single bed and a double so two more of you can stay with me," Shotaro explained, "Then our princess Y/N gets the master bedroom all to herself."

You grinned teasingly at the boys who affectionately cooed at you and your overpacking. Your clothes were all currently sprawled out everywhere since you dug deep into it to find your pyjamas the night before and didn't bother to unpack properly.

"Dibs on the single," Eunseok rushed out, to which the other boys groaned at, "What? Shotaro likes to cuddle at night and I get too hot for that."

"I'll cuddle with you, Hyung," Wonbin said cutely, wrapping his arms and leg around Shotaro's side. Shotaro chuckled and fondly agreed.

"Yay, we're roomies!" Seunghan tugged on Sungchan's arm, "What are we doing today?"

"How about relaxing?" Wonbin groaned, "Sleeping?"

"Yah, you already slept the whole drive down!" Eunseok protested, "We can unpack and then grocery shop?"

The others seemed to decide that was a good idea so you also headed up to your room to sort out your clothes. Normally, you never properly unpacked in the countless hotel rooms you stayed in, since you only every brought your skates, your costumes and a couple of comfortable sweats to lounge in in between skating sessions. However, since you were staying for a while and doing activities (Shotaro made sure to book a place far from any ice skating rinks), you had to bring a lot of clothes.

Leaving your door open as you sat on the wooden floor and arranged your clothes into piles, you saw Eunseok and Wonbin drag their suitcases up the stairs and onto your wing of the house and they peeked in.

"Wow, noona this room is so nice," Wonbin expressed, "You're so lucky."

"Yeah I deserve not having to share with you guys. You're all pigs," you threw a sock at him that he threw right back.

"Guys, come look at the master," Eunseok craned his head and called over to the other boys bringing their bags up. Eunseok and Wonbin crossed the landing to their room to make space for the approaching Seunghan and Sungchan.

"Wow," Sungchan gasped in awe as he traversed the room and past you, "A bay window looking out at the sea?" He clapped happily as he stretched out across the cushions on the bay.

"Yah, get off! It's mine," you pouted, getting up from the floor to check the view outside. Since you arrived after the sun had already set, you didn't get to see what the view was like before and in the morning, Shotaro had dragged you straight down to the kitchen without even letting you do so much as brush your hair.

You could see from the corner of your eye that Seunghan had turned around and closed the door behind him, which left you slightly suspicious.

"Why did he close the door and leave?" Sungchan frowned, sitting up and patting the cushion next to him for you to have a seat. You sat down, twisting your body to examine the view. It was so peaceful and you couldn't wait to see how the sunset would illuminate your room in vivid colours.

"Beats me," you shrugged, "Did you tell them anything? They've been suspicious that you've been dating someone since grand prix final!"

"Yeah, I know. They keep bugging me about it," he rolled his eyes, "But I haven't said anything!"

"Hm," you hummed, "Anyway, how was the drive up?"

"I called shotgun then Eunseok demanded that I stay awake the whole time to keep him company," Sungchan recounted, "Seunghan and Wonbin were completely knocked out in the back, but it was a nice and smooth trip. What have you guys been doing here?"

"We all just explored the house and then went to bed last night pretty quickly, but Taro and I had breakfast and sat on the beach for a bit before you guys came."

Sungchan shuffled over, his hips bumping against yours, "Mhm, sounds nice! We should take a walk on the beach later. A nice long walk on the beach."

"Just us?" you inquired, brow raised.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure how to get you alone without the others being suspicious. This is probably suspicious enough," he pointed at the door, "They're all probably on the other side with their ears pressed against the door."

"We could just tell them," you suggested cautiously, "That we're getting to know each other?"

Sungchan dropped his head onto your shoulder and sighed, "I like keeping this to us. Our own little secret. It's fun for now, but maybe when we get a bit more tired we can tell them. We'll find a way to spend time with each other a little bit, but I guess it's a group vacation after all."

"Yeah, let's not stress," you agreed. Sungchan started playing with your fingers, twisting your rings and measuring up his large hands with yours before he entwined them together. He peered up at you from your shoulder and reached up to press a kiss along your jawline. You rotated your head to look down at him and before you know it, he had stolen a kiss from your lips.

You nudged him off of your body playfully as he tried to lean in for another kiss, "Go unpack! Hannie's gonna get suspicious!"

He feigned displeasure as he got up and stretched high, nearly touching the ceiling, "Mhm, okay, whatever you say. I'll see you later, love."

You bit back a grin, "Bye Channie."

⋆｡°✩

Sungchan is pushing one of the shopping carts as Shotaro and Sohee trailed behind him. In reality, they should be ahead, but they stopped far too often to point at random things and Sungchan was getting impatient. The three of them were on snack duty, while you, Eunseok and Wonbin were on ingredients duty, as you were the best cooks. Anton and Seunghan had skipped away the second you all arrived and every so often passed by and dumped an armful of things in the cart.

"What kind of crisps should we get?" Shotaro placed his hands on his hips and examined the vast wall of options in front of him. He picked out a few, Sohee following also and placed them in the cart.

Sungchan spotted a rare flavour to find, "They have truffle flavour! Let's get this. I think Y/N likes these."

"How'd you know that, hyung?" Sohee questioned, not interrogatively, just nonchalantly.

"Uh- I think she's mentioned it before," Sungchan stammered, "Let's get drinks."

Shotaro shot him an unsure look, but skipped ahead of the cart anyway to find the beverage aisle. From a few aisles down, Sungchan could hear you laughing with Wonbin and Eunseok and he wished he was by your side.

Eventually, you all converged at the checkouts, carts full and wallets about to be emptied, metaphorically. You had chosen a bunch of meats to grill on the patio down to the beach and lots of ingredients to make side dishes and other random things. The three in charge of cooking followed their task diligently, whereas Anton and Seunghan had produced a pool floater, a bunch of water guns and so many hangover sticks that you were all worried about how much Seunghan was going to force everyone to drink.

You returned to the house in two cars, the same groupings as how you came to the house and rapidly unpacked everything.

"Today, Eunseok, Wonbin and Seunghan are in charge of lunch for everyone," Shotaro declared, "We'll take turns making food each mealtime!"

Everyone made noises of agreement, slowly dispersing through the house as the cooks brainstormed what to serve.

"Does anyone want to go on a walk on the beach? I haven't seen it yet," Sungchan queried to no one in particular. Anton and Shotaro had turned around guiltily from where they were crouched under the TV. You could see that they were fiddling with some wires and powering on the console that they brought to the house. Ah, boys.

"Gonna play FIFA," Shotaro held up the game case sheepishly, "Maybe later?"

"I'll come with you now," you offered slowly, "I love the beach!"

Sungchan gave you a knowing smile and turned to Sohee, "What about you?"

Sohee looked up at you and Sungchan and then down to Anton and Shotaro, who had widened their eyes in order to communicate with him. He opened his mouth and spoke hesitantly, "Uh, I wanna play as well. Is it okay?"

"Mhm, suit yourself," Sungchan shrugged, happy on the inside that he had found a way to be alone with you.

The two of you slipped on more suitable footwear and grabbed a few snacks before heading out onto the beach.

(Meanwhile, Shotaro, Anton and Sohee were smirking in the living room, delighted that their own devious plan to get you and Sungchan together was coming into effect.)

"That was easy," Sungchan chuckled as you chose a direction to walk down.

"Surprisingly! You know how much Sohee loves the beach!" you frowned again but shook out the suspicion, "Whatever. I'm happy to spend time with you."

The second you were far enough from clear view from the house, Sungchan had interlaced his fingers with yours, happily swinging your conjoined arms between you. With his other hand, he ran it through his fluffy brown locks and basked in the soft breeze of being down by the ocean.

The beach was fortunately pretty deserted of people, since it wasn't terribly hot in climate yet, but there were a couple of people dotted around closer to the water.

"This is definitely what a healing trip is made of," he sighed contently, "That was a hard season."

Facing your own challenges didn't mean that the boys also weren't experiencing some hardships of their own. You know that Sohee was taking it hard with some injuries and Sungchan had only introduced his hardest combination the season just past, which is never easy.

"We all deserve a little break," you agreed, "To spend time with each other and definitely not talk or think about skating at all."

"What a dream," Sungchan was too elated being on this trip and it had barely begun, "Here with my best friends and my best girl."

You had stopped in your tracks and punched him softly in the chest, "Don't say that!"

He lowered his neck to meet you at your eye-level, "Why? Did it give you butterflies?"

You scoffed, pushing him away from you, but he decided to wrap his arms around you instead and sway your bodies around.

"You're too bold now, Jung Sungchan," you huffed, "Where's the boy that never speaks whenever we're around people? And the boy that blushed every time we kissed in secret?"

"He found out that the girl he liked likes him back and was giving him a chance to woo her off her feet!" Sungchan poked his tongue out at you and finally let you go, returning to your linked hands and continuing to walk.

"Woo?" you laughed at his teasing.

He nodded affirmatively, "Yeah, woo. Have you been woo'ed?"

You looked away for a second, hesitant to be so candid with him, but you figured that if he was so bold, you couldn't let this chance slip away.

"You're my ideal man, Sungchanie," you admitted quietly, "I like everything about you. I like having you by my side."

His face heated up so suddenly, so far removed from the confidence that was radiating off him just seconds ago. His heart was beating out of his chest as he tried to utter his words as casually as possible, "Enough to make me your boyfriend?"

You nibbled on your bottom lip to stop you from freaking out and smiling like a maniac, "Is that a confession? Is this our evaluation?"

"You already know I like you," he affirmed softly, "If you're ready for a relationship and if you're ready to have me in that way, you're in control."

You were still walking, barely looking at each other and too shy.

"Ask me."

"What?"

"Ask me the question," you whined as he seemed to play dumb.

Sungchan grinned down at you, his bambi eyes sparkling in the sun as he shook his hair out of them. He paused your stroll momentarily, turning to face you and closing the distance between your feet.

He nudged his nose against yours, a favourite move of his as he took a deep breath, "Y/N," he began slowly, "Please can I be your boyfriend?"

"Sungchan!" you laughed suddenly, "The question is 'will you be my girlfriend?'"

"That's not enough to express how much I want to be your boyfriend though," he pouted, "Doesn't matter, just give me an answer."

You threw your arms around his neck, still giggling, "Of course you can be my boyfriend, Jung Sungchan. I'm sorry you've been on trial period for like 5 months now."

Sungchan connected his lips to yours, giving you a soft peck, "Don't be sorry. I just wanted to show you how much I wanted to be there for you."

"And thank you for that. I couldn't have gotten through this season without you," you proclaimed gently.

He bumped his shoulders with yours as he took your hand again, "Don't get too sappy. You'll probably hate us by the end of this trip."

"I swear, if you guys don't clean after yourselves and leave the bathroom messy and dirty, I'll kill you all!" you remarked.

Sungchan laughed heartily- a sound that you had grown to adore over the past few months when you would share hushed conversations getting to know each other over the phone at night and calls whenever your schedules aligned. The two of you walked a little further, just talking about your plans for the trip and pointing out the cute, but also the endearingly ugly, dogs that were running around the beach. Eventually, Eunseok had texted you that lunch was nearly cooked and for the two of you to start heading back.

You couldn't believe that you left the beach house in a situationship and came back as a girlfriend! In fact, you probably still hadn't processed the fact that the Jung Sungchan was finally your boyfriend after all these years of creating boundaries and drawing lines to protect yourself and your heart.

All this time, Sungchan was your right person, wrong time, but you were so happy to be able to say that he stayed by your side long enough to become your right person at the right time.

⋆｡°✩

You were breathless and pliant in Sungchan's hold as he pressed feather-light kisses along your neck. He peppered them across your jaw, ending at the corner of your mouth before pulling away.

"Just kiss me," you begged as he smirked above you. Sungchan loved seeing you like this and now that you were officially his, it ignited a new spark in his heart that had always beat for you anyway.

It was past halfway through the beach trip and you had spent the past week lounging around on the beach and exploring the seaside town together. You spent mornings taking walks with the boys, the afternoon sunbathing and relaxing under parasols on the beach and the evening huddled around a bonfire just talking, singing and reminiscing. You were hard-pressed to find time alone with Sungchan, but you didn't mind since you came with the intention to hang out with your best friends and the new season wasn't going into full effect for a few months anyway.

Despite that, Sungchan had been sneaking into your room either before the others woke up or after they went to sleep, usually just to say goodnight and pillow talk, but sometimes to also make out like you were doing now.

Light flooded into the room from the expansive bay window, bathing Sungchan's face in sunlight. His twinkling eyes against his golden skin made you want to stare in them forever.

You were snapped out of your daydream when you heard a door click open and then close behind someone, and then footsteps on the hardwood floor. You pushed Sungchan off of you and he rushed over to sit at the bay window while you straightened out your bed and your clothes to give the illusion that your boyfriend hadn't been attacking you with his lips for the past half an hour.

You could hear a few more doors open and then close, before a knock on your door sounded out. Gingerly, you shuffled to your door and peeked out to find a sleepy and dishevelled Seunghan.

"Noona, have you seen Sungchan-hyung? He's not in bed," he was blinking slowly, as if trying to adjust to the natural light in your room. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, you opened the door wider and pointed sheepishly at the missing boy.

"Hey, I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep so me and Y/N were just talking and planning the day," Sungchan hummed as casually as he could muster up, "Do you need something?"

You let Seunghan inside your room and he immediately collapsed on your four-poster bed, sighing as he felt the soft sheets hit his head, "Nah, just wondering where you went and if you guys suddenly all decided to wake up and do something without me."

"You know everyone's so hard to get up in the morning," you mused, "Sungchan and I are the only morning people."

"You must have got closer then," Seunghan mumbled to himself, eyes fluttering shut, "That's good, noona. You weren't always as close to hyung."

You sat criss-cross next to his body as you shot Sungchan a pointed look. Was this the time you were going to reveal your relationship to the others? Sneaking around for the past week had been exhilarating, but it did weigh on the two of you to keep such a big secret from them.

"We're going to the fair today, right?" he carried on, breaking the tension between you and your boyfriend.

"Mhm, so you better get up and wake the others up so we can have breakfast and get going," you told him as he groaned. Sungchan was just smiling at you lazily from the window, watching your sweet and maternal interaction with the younger boy. You prodded Seunghan a few more times before he finally rolled away and off the bed and Sungchan followed him out of the door, giving you a small wave goodbye.

You slowly got yourself ready for the day ahead, knowing it was going to take a while before all 7 of the boys could wake up and get refreshed enough to leave. By the time you were done, the youngest ones were preparing breakfast in the kitchen, singing along to the song on the radio perched on a floating shelf.

"Need any help?" you cast your eyes over Sohee and Anton who grinned happily as they saw you for the first time.

"Mhm, no," Sohee assured you, leading you to the already set dining table and pointing at the food, "We're nearly done so you can just wait for us or start eating if you want."

For the duration of the entire trip, it seemed like the boys were determined to not let you lift a finger. Although you were happy to help in cooking and cleaning, every time you were on the rotation, whoever was with you would work hard and take a lot of your work off you. Then again, the boys had always been sweet to you. Of course, they were funny, teasing and ridiculous, but at the core of it, they treated you like their little sister even though you were older than most of them. You really think that you couldn't have lucked out more with a friendship group and found family.

Anton served an over hard egg on your plate and you noticed that the rest on the serving plate was filled with sunny-side up eggs. See, they even paid attention to your food preferences.

Seunghan was next to come down, more wide awake than when you saw him last and seemingly energised by the prospect of food. He sat on your right, quickly scooping all of the dishes he wanted but stopping himself from eating until everyone came down.

Wonbin and Shotaro descended next, complaining about how long each other took to shower and get ready, but Eunseok came right behind them hair still dripping, to your chagrin as he made the floors slippery. Sungchan finally came down just moments later and took the empty seat next to you.

"Yay, let's eat!" Anton clapped his hands together as you completed the table.

"Wonbin-hyung, you'll go on the rides with us today, right?" Sohee crunched through his sausage.

"No, you can't force me to do anything," he grumbled and the rest of you chuckled at the man you knew to be so scared of fast and high rides, "I can watch over our stuff if you do go."

That was exactly the coversation you were having 2 hours later as all 8 of you stood in front of the tallest and fastest rollercoaster at the fair. In all honesty, it wasn't even that big and scary considering it was only a small fair that moved around, so the rides had to be simple to deconstruct. Even still, Wonbin planted his feet on the ground and firmly shook his head.

"But there's an uneven number of us," Shotaro whined, tugging at Bin's arm, "C'mon, just this once?"

He pouted and batted his long eyelashes as Anton sighed, "It's okay, I'll stay with hyung. I don't feel that good after that hot dog anyway."

Looking around, all of you had accepted defeat, so you joined the short line for the ride and immediately began grouping yourselves into pairs. At the one amusement park you had joined them at since you guys became friends, you stuck by Shotaro's side the whole time as you were still opening yourself up to the others. This time, you didn't really mind as Sohee linked arms with your boyfriend.

As the line progressed and you were at the front, Eunseok made his way to the back of the pack with you and helped you into the cart before sitting by your side. The climb up was decently steep and you could hear and feel the vibrations of the rails under you. You could also see Sohee still clutching Sungchan's arm and Seunghan and Shotaro preparing to raise their arms up when the ride plummeted.

As it slowly approached the peak, Eunseok cleared his throat, "You guys are pretty obvious, you know?"

You snapped your head so fast that even this rollercoaster couldn't give you the whiplash you gave yourself, "What?"

The ride was so rickety and loud that the boys in front of you couldn't hear you as Eunseok smirked, "You and Channie. Well at least to me you're obvious."

You opened your mouth to say something along the lines of you had no idea what he was talking about, but suddenly the ride dropped and a scream erupted from your throat. From beside you, Eunseok was nearly doubling over in laughter at how he caught you so flustered and shocked.

"Yah, don't run away from me," Eunseok laughed, calling after you as you gave him a pointed stare and ran ahead to catch up to Wonbin and Anton first.

Sungchan with his long strides reached you quickly, "What was that about?"

Anton and Wonbin's eyes were trained on you, so you merely waved your hand and dismissed it, "Nothing, just some nonsense."

You were grateful that Eunseok didn't say anything else when he arrived at the fence the others were waiting at, but for the rest of the fair, he would give you teasing smiles whenever you got so much as remotely close to Sungchan.

The sun was about to set and you were all nearly tired enough to go home. Between the big rides, the boys put on their competitive hats and kept challenging each other to the stalls that were known to be scams. They were probably blowing all of their prize money between them, but you had to keep walking back and forth between the fair and your cars since they were accumulating far too many plushies to hold.

"Just one more," Sungchan pleaded so cutely that you were resigned to say yes to, "Then we can go home after! Song Eunseok! Do this one with me!"

He was tugging on your arm, pointing at the basketball booth before slinging his arm around Eunseok's shoulder and dragging him along. Behind you, the youngests were happily munching on long churro sticks that Shotaro had bought for them, meanwhile he was conversing with Wonbin behind them.

"Loser has to grill all the meat later," Eunseok bargained. It was the two of them on main dinner duty once you returned to the house.

"Well what if we both win?" Sungchan huffed.

"Doubt it," Eunseok chuckled, as he handed over his bills to the booth manager.

You rolled your eyes at their antics- everyone knew that the basketball hoops were oval shaped and the chance of getting a ball in was slim. Even still, they both paid for the highest amount of balls in order to have the chance to win the biggest prize. If they got three balls through the hoop, then they could pick from the large prizes.

The boys finally caught up to you guys and sighed at the competition they saw in front of them. Eunseok was very passionate about basketball and Sungcham was very passionate about winning.

"No cheating," Sungchan swatted at Eunseok, who narrowed his eyes playfully.

They both began, the rest of you cheering them on. Both of them missed their first two shots, and they had to make the last 3 to win the big prize. Surprisingly, they also both were able to shoot the next two together, and were staring each other down as they picked up the last basketball.

"You're going down, Song Eunseok," Sungchan taunted, sticking his tongue out. Eunseok rolled his eyes and decided to shoot first at the hoop. You all watched in anticipation as the ball hit the rim... and then bounced off. Eunseok screamed in defeat and all eyes were turned to Sungchan.

He carefully examined the hoop and decided to just go for it. You were all shocked that it went in!

Sunchan whooped in glee, taunting Eunseok before throwing his arm around your shoulder. That was a pretty normal thing for the other boys to do to you, but it certainly wasn't the way Sungchan used to interact with you.

"You can choose the prize, Y/N," he grinned down at you, pointing at the array of large animal plushies attached around the booth.

You gasped as you laid your eyes on the most perfect choice and you leaned into his touch as you pointed it out, "That one!"

The booth attendant took it off its hook and handed it over to you. Gleefully, you held it up to Sungchan and cooed, "It looks just like you, Channie!"

Sungchan was smiling so dorkily at how the large baby deer plushie was making you so happy, and you were both too busy cooing at the plushie to notice the boys, jaws dropped and watching you.

"Uh," Wonbin uttered, "What's going on here?"

The silence that fell caused you and Sungchan to turn around, and upon realising their reaction, you jumped away from each other, still both holding the plushie.

"What do you mean?" Sungchan scratched his neck awkwardly, "You all got a prize for Y/N earlier. I wanted to as well."

Seunghan nodded slowly, "Okay, okay. Sure. But we just got small prizes."

"Is it my fault that I was good at this?" Sungchan retorted as he began walking your group towards the car park. You scurried behind him, hugging the deer close to your chest.

You fell back a little from Sungchan and slowed your footsteps since the boys behind you started whispering to themselves.

"I think Operation Sung-Y/N is working!" Sohee whisper-hissed. You raised your eyebrow at that. There's no way, right? There's no way that they were doing a whole scheme to set you up together with your boyfriend- not that they know that.

You decided not to confront them and joined Sungchan's side again. He had turned to talk to you, but saw you had slowed down so he had stopped in his tracks and waited for you. Sungchan sighed to himself as he watched you bound over with the plushie. He wished he could be in your embrace the way that plushie was connected to you. Frankly, he should have just told everyone else right then as they got suspicious, but he had a feeling you wanted to do it more lowkey.

Later on that night, Sungchan was lying on top of your sheets as you played with his hair. It was his turn to hug the deer- the only one that made it to your bed as you banished the other plushies the boys gave you onto the windowsill.

The others were all downstairs, either preparing the side dishes and preparing the grill or fighting each other on the playstation.

"We can tell them tomorrow," you sighed happily. his hair was so soft and bouncy that it instantly bounced back to its spot after you ran your hand through it, "And then we'll have 2 days here to act like a couple."

"Ah, two days," Sungchan sighed, "When am I going to see you again after that? I want to take you on a proper date, finally."

You gasped to yourself, bringing your hands to your mouth. Sungchan sat up quickly, eyebrows stitched together in worry, "Oh, what's up? What's wrong?"

You began laughing to yourself and Sungchan looked at you like you had grow two heads, "I forgot to tell you guys completely! I have some news for you all!"

"Ah, what is it?"

"I'm going to train in Seoul this season!"

Sungchan yelped in surprise, suddenly attacking you in a hug down onto the bed, "Oh my gosh, really? Are you serious? It's not a joke right?"

You giggled happily as he attacked your face wiyh kisses, "You know my coach Lina? Well, she's pregnant and she asked if I would be willing to relocate to Seoul so she could be around her family and her husband's family! She wants to receive maternal care here, so," you trailed off.

"Oh my, I'm so happy," Sungchan breathed out, "You mean I won't have to wait months in between competitions to come and see you? I can see you everyday?"

"Hey, you have a skating career too," you poked his chest, "Make sure you focus on that. But if it works, then sure! I'm going apartment hunting as soon as we all drive back up to Seoul!"

Sungchan was so elated, dreaming about all his favourite places that he would take you, "Ah, I think there's an apartment empty in our building. Do you want me to ask our management team?"

The boys all lived in the same building, some of them sharing and some of them living alone since there were various apartment layouts. You recalled that Sungchan lived with Shotaro on the 7th floor of the building, but you had only visited twice before.

You had a thought about declining his offer. Maybe it was moving too fast for you if you moved into his apartment building, but then again, the rest of your friends were there too and it wasn't like you were moving into his room. The thought of having all of them around often and being able to guide you through the city comforted you, so you just gave him an appreciative smile and nodded, "Mhm, that would be nice."

A happy sound escaped his throat and you're certain that moving to Seoul was the best move for you at this stage. Sungchan flipped you around so he was below you and you hovering over him. He brought his hand up to your face, tucking your hair out of your eyes and settling his large palms on your soft cheeks.

He guided your face down and you could feel his breath ghosting over your mouth. Sungchan connected his eyes with yours, "I really, really like you, Y/N. Thank you for giving me a chance."

Stealing his move, you grazed your nose against his, "You tell me that everyday, baby. I really, really like you too. I'm excited for this new season."

It wasn't just a new season of figure skating where you were going to debut new programs. It was a whole new season in your life. It felt like you could finally release yourself from the shackles of the bad moments of your past and start anew- a new country, and a new boyfriend.

He craned his neck up to softly touch your lips together, but he hadn't made any other moves, so you slid your arms around his neck and melted into his chest, parting his lips with yours and deepening the kiss.

You have always loved kissing Sungchan. His kisses seemed to heal every pain and suffering in the world and made you forget even your own name sometimes. He was always a passionate person, tending to your whines and requests whenever you got frustrated and he was teasing you. You don't know how, but since becoming his girlfriend, kissing him felt even better than it did before.

You were so engrossed in each other that you hadn't even heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, or Seunghan's soft calls for you, or his knocking on the door, or the way the door creaked as he opened it.

"Yah!" his scream caused Sungchan to sit up so hard and fast that you fell off of him and onto the floor, "My eyes!"

Sungchan smoothed his clothes out in a panic and yelped in apology as he helped you up from the floor. He scowled at his younger friend, "Do you know how to knock?"

"I did!" Seunghan exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "I even called for you, noona! Ah, I'm so traumatised! How can I get that out of my head?"

Your face must have been as red as the way it flushes when you get drunk as you just watched silently against the bed.

"Hey, what's going on? Hurry up, we wanna eat!" Wonbin appeared behind Seunghan who was still rubbing his eyes, unable to believe what he saw. Wonbin looked at him, confused by his reaction and the yells, "What happened?"

Suddenly, the other 4 boys all came out of nowhere too, crammed in the small hallway and looking between you on the bed, Sungchan closer to the door and Seunghan just on the other side.

"I caught them," Seunghan dramatically screeched, throwing his arms around Wonbin, "I caught them!"

"Caught them doing what?" Shotaro frowned.

"Making out!" Seunghan screamed, to which the rest of the boys started yelling in surprise too, suddenly firing questions at you and Sungchan, who was looking worriedly and apologetically at you.

"I knew it!" Eunseok smirked.

"Oh my God?" Anton gasped quietly and Sohee was mirroring his reaction.

"Are you guys fucking?" Seunghan was still dramatically wailing.

Sungchan scoffed, offended, "No! Well-" he looked at you, giving you the choice to give as much information.

"We're in a relationship," you revealed softly, laughing at their dropped jaws, "Well, only since the trip. We've been getting to know each other since Paris."

"Paris?" Wonbin gawked, "Paris? So when we asked you who you went to Paris with and you said no one, you actually were with Sungchan-hyung?"

"Yeah," you tilted your head and scratched the back of your neck, "Sorry for some white lies we've had to tell. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a bit, navigate new territories and make sure it doesn't affect our friendship with you guys."

Shotaro stepped into the room, huddling over to give you a hug, "Well we're all happy for you both. Besides, we were all conspiring to set you two up this trip."

"We were so proud at how well it was working," Sohee cried out, "Turns out we're the fools!"

You think back through the trip at the instances they created to get you alone together, whether it was taking quick trips to the grocery store because they 'forgot' an ingredient, or just leaving you two behind whenever you were walking and relaxing on the beach. You were thankful the boys were so silly to create a plan like that, otherwise you couldn't have spent so much time with your new boyfriend on the healing trip.

"It's okay guys," Sungchan grinned lopsidedly, "It was funny to watch." "Um," Seunghan interrupted, "I actually came up cause I was coming to tell you that dinner was ready."

Eunseok nodded, turning on his heel, "Yeah, I'm really hungry. Can we talk about this over barbecue instead?"

The rest of the boys nodded in agreement, making their way down the stairs. You sighed heavily, looking at Sungchan who placed a loving kiss on your hair, "That was so chaotic. Are we okay, though?"

You smiled up at him and took his hand pulling you up, "More than okay. They were bound to find out and they're all so happy about it."

Sungchan splayed his palm against yours and then locked your fingers together, "Ah, wait til you tell them about moving to Seoul. They'll forget this news instantly!"

You let the grin invade your face as you happily imagined the way they'd cheer and instantly bombard you with outings to do and places to visit together in Seoul. You were definitely certain now that your relationship with Sungchan wasn't going to change your friendship.

"Lovers, come on!" Eunseok yelled up the stairs, "The food is getting cold so stop making out!"

Well, maybe a little bit. But as long as you were able to call Sungchan yours, you were sure you could endure anything.

--------------------------

a/n: thank you for reading:) pls let me know what you think<3

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fleursbending · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : "You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." Sully! Reader to Sully! Parents? Just a fluffy family fic please

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : becoming one with the metkayina's has not been an easy task. as everyone continues to settle in their own ways, your family begins to grow more worried about your well-being. this isn't the sully they know. you're withdrawn, and quiet. what better way to fix that than to seek you out when you least expect it?

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi if you're confused so am i! there were issues when i first posted this so i am reposting it again. thank you for the love on the previous one though! // trust me this is fluffy 😭 just have to go through a lil angst to get to that part <33 this is purely a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic! didn't fully proofread this btw! pls feel free to reblog and leave your thoughts in the comments.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying, discrimination, angst but fluff at the end, descriptions of loneliness, hurt/comfort, you're gonna wish even more that u were a sully after reading this.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hiiiiii my luvs you can read part 2: here !🙏🏼

The ocean was not your friend, you could only look at the endless channel of water in disdain. This was far too daunting for you, you liked the little rivers or ponds back at home. The sealife while beautiful, petrified you.

You missed the lush greens and the smell of the dew from the occasional rain back in the jungle. It was easy to forget your responsibilities, not that you had as many as your other siblings. Being the second youngest Sully had its perks. Not older than Lo'ak, and not younger than Tuk.

The "expeditions" you went on now made you look like a fool. You didn't know the terrain here, how to navigate fluidly through the water like Tsireya, Ao'nung, or Roxto.

Each passing day your siblings got better at managing to hold their breath, and riding their Ilu's. But you were still stuck in the past.

It felt reality kept kicking you in the face. Your stubborn self was annoyed as well. Holding a grudge against your family. It seemed like no one missed home. You understood why your parents made the decision they did, but it didn't make the act of doing so hurt any less.

At least you had these quiet moments before your thoughts ran rampant to practice your breathing.

You were suddenly interrupted from your twisting thoughts when a nudge was directed at your head.

It was Ao'nung and his crew.

"Leave me alone." You hissed at them, not wanting to deal with their bullshit today.

"Leave me alone." Ao'nung mocked you as he tugged on your tail.

You quickly stood up, looking to see if any of your family were close by. They weren't. You were supposed to be back in the Mauri but once again, you lost track of time.

"No one is here to help you, Y/n."

They grabbed your hand, poking insults at you and your family. You knew better than to talk back, especially if no one was here to help you out. It was 4 against 1. So instead you bit your lip and kept your mouth shut.

"Roxto, are you there?" His mother called from around the corner, startling the goonies.

"You're in luck, scram!" Ao'nung hissed at you.

Eyes widening, you stumbled as you rushed back to your Mauri. You didn't dare look back at your tormentors.

Once you were a few steps away, you slowed your pace. Catching your breath, before making your way inside.

The worried chatter of your family halted when you made your presence.

Neytiri stopped pacing, moving over to you and grabbing your face in her hands.

"Ewya help me before I lose it. Where have you been? You're 15 minutes late! I was about to send your brothers out to look for you."

Had it really been that long?

"I'm sorry." You looked down in shame. It's weird being on the brunt end of the stick. Even your parents have grown more accustomed to having to tell you off rather than Lo'ak. It was definitely odd.

"You didn't answer your mother's question, where have you been?" Jake didn't like being stern with you, but you being late to dinner had been happening more regularly.

You used to be a stickler for these dinners, being the one to push for them. How everyone had to be in attendance, and on time. It was family bonding time, moments to catch up on what everyone had done that day.

"Just around, I was with my Ilu - I'm sorry." You looked down to the Mauri's floor, unable to meet your father's eyes. It was hard lying to him.

Neteyams eyebrows arched in confusion, he had just been with his Ilu. You were nowhere in sight. He decided to let it slide this time, but he couldn't help but wonder where you snuck off too.

"Alright well, you really got to keep track of time yeah. You used to love these dinners!"

"Yes, and I still do!" You answered too quickly, not missing a beat.

If Jake wasn't suspicious before, he certainly was now. But like Neteyam, he decided to let it slide. Your brothers had told him and Neytiri how you've been struggling to catch up and learn everything in the lessons.

That was partially it, but if only he was aware of the bigger picture.

Jake nodded, looking to Neytiri. She also held a look of concern, but Jake made a silent signal that basically stated:

"We shouldn't push it, not now."

"Well, let's eat before the food gets even colder." Neytiri ushered her kids over, keeping a close eye on you.

Your family gathers around the food that was already set, and start eating. As all your siblings chatted excitedly about the activities they've done throughout the day. You didn't say a thing, not even piping in.

Neytiri and Jake once again met gazes, thinking the same thing.

Something's wrong with our daughter.

Soon dinner was over and it was time to rest, as your family rested together you couldn't help yourself as you removed Tuk's arm that clung to your shoulder.

Maneuvering your way outside, you jumped into the water. Why sleep when you can practice again?

Before Eclipse ended you made sure to squeeze the excess water out of your hair and made yourself comfortable alongside your family. Your body ached and could no longer fight off your sleep deprivation. But it was worth it, you could hold your breath a lot longer now under water.

From then on, it gradually got worse. Even your siblings would struggle to find you throughout the day. You'd take longer naps through the day, and Lo'ak knew you were sneaking out at night. Your essence seemed to further rid itself from you, and all that was left was a hollow shell of yourself.

They too, shared similar thoughts with their parents. No longer could they see you dwindle away. It didn't sit right with them, you're a Sully through and through. Sully's stick together.

So they did what they know best and was most accessible to them, track.

Instead this time they weren't on a hunt, or looking for what was to be a good meal for their clan. They were following the steps of their baby sister.

If you stepped out of your brain for a moment, you would have immediately clocked them. But once again, Y/n was shut in her own bubble.

"Bro, don't you find it weird that she hasn't realised we are here?" Lo'ak whispered as he looked at you behind the leaves keeping them hidden.

"Shut up, Lo'ak" Neteyam grumbled. He didn't want to agree even if his words held some truth.

"Hey, I have to agree with him. We shouldn't have been able to get this far. She's usually far too hyperaware of her surroundings." Kiri observed you, stunned and clueless.

They'd never been to this part of Awa'atlu before. They'd been so fixated on the ocean. They had yet to really explore the area that surrounded their new home. It oddly felt like they were waltzing through their past.

At last, you came upon your tree. You liked it because it had a specific branch that you could curve into. Blend in, and be one with your surroundings. Like you had used to do before in the jungle. This was now your next best option.

Your siblings looked in confusion at one another, not understanding how this could be the reason you've been periodically gone. Did you spend all your time here?

But then it came.

It was barely there, and you were struggling to catch your breath. The cries.

It strikes through the serene sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and the nearby insects chirping.

Your sibling's ears flattened as they looked at each other in sheer worry. You were a spitfire, but you had always been calm and collected. The physical embodiment of the word warm. Happiness was always with you. So where did it all go wrong?

"Great mother, I fear that I am not good enough. I thought consistency was key, I've been trying to practice anytime I can. But I'm so tired. I've never felt this weak and useless?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up into the sky.

Groaning in frustration, you continued. "Maybe Ao'nung was right. I will never be one of the people. I will always be too alien. I will never be able to live up to my family."

Lo'ak enraged by the doubts you had voiced stepped out from their cover.

Your ears tuned into the noise, you finally tuned into your senses and became more alert. As you hopped off the branch, hastily wiping your tears.

"Brother." You choked out, lips trembling.

He took slow steps towards you, trying to soothe you as he brought you into a hug.

"Baby sister," he said so quietly, solemnly.

You couldn't remember the last time he hugged you, and neither he could he. It wore his heart down, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Soon the presence of more arms wrapped around you both, clinging onto you - securing you in their grasps. For the first time in a long time, tenderness surged through you.

"We've got you, Y/n. You're going to be alright. Let it all out now." Neteyam who was at your right side gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, muttering to himself - "Oh my baby sister."

Kiri had never felt such pain from you, it came off in waves. And it almost debilitated her. In that moment, it was the most protective she had felt for you. It synced through all of them, a fire had awaken in the pit of their souls - so fierce that even Toruk Makto would flinch from it.

Slowly your breaths began to ease, and your tense shoulders slumped down. It was emotionally taxing having had all these emotions balled up inside you. Now it was unraveling, and it felt all too bittersweet.

Your siblings sensing this, mellowed out on their group hug they were giving you. Moving over, you all settled down against the tree you've been confiding in moments before.

Tuk grabbed your hand while Kiri tucked your intricate braids behind your ears. You mouthed a "thank you", leaning your head on her shoulder.

All it took was Neteyam to ask a very simple question, "What's been going on, baby sister?"

And once your mouth opened, you decided - why not just let them in on everything? So you did.

You told them about how ashamed and humiliated you had felt when you started lagging behind. How Ao'nung and his friends would tease you whenever they had the chance to do. (It was always away from prying eyes). Due to that, it only made the feelings of hatred you harbored for yourself - increase a tenth-fold.

A deliberately belligerent cycle was born. Self-doubt equated to "I will push myself to the brink of exhaustion". You'd seek out your family thinking they'd have noticed. But they were too caught up in their own commitments to realise your intentions.

All you wanted was for any of them to see the hard work you had been pouring in to adapting here. But how could they when you always lingered on the outskirts?

Late to dinner, late to the lessons, never seen. They couldn't appreciate what was in front of them because they hadn't witnessed it themselves. How utterly ironic.

"I see why you didn't, but I wish you had told us, Y/n. We could have helped you." Kiri insisted as she patted your head.

"I know." You grumbled, but you were grateful for how attentive they are to you.

"Ao'nung will pay." Lo'ak seethed, completely shifting the topic of conversation.

Neteyam rolled his eyes and interjected. "He will, but not in the way you are seeing it in your mind right now. We have to go to dad and mum about this."

Your irritated eyes widened, leaping up from where your back had laid against the tree. Y/n scowled at Neteyam, her tail flicking in anguish. No, not her parents.

"Absolutely not, 'Teyam. They mustn't know anything of this." You countered him, disbelief flooding your features. Your parents would only perceive you as a failure, and that was the last thing you could stomach right now.

Neteyam stood up by you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He shook his head at you and gave you one of his brotherly grins.

"Baby sister, they are just as worried as we are." He looked behind you, and urged you to turn around.

Oh great mother, that could only mean one thing.

Ember crashed on ember, one filled with panic, and two filled with distraught. The tension was taut, but all your parents wanted to do was cradle you in their arms like they had in your first few months of life.

"Kids, back to the Mauri." Jake ordered them, pointing back to where it was.

"But dad-" Lo'ak butted in, worriedly looking at you.

"It's okay. Thank you, Lo'ak." You coaxed him to join your siblings who were also hesitating a little.

They disappeared amongst nature, and their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Until all that was left was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It felt oddly comforting being in their company even though doubt was eating you up from the inside.

It's been a while.

Neytiri was the first to approach you, her hands shook as she cradled your face. She took you in for the first time in weeks, and this time she was able to do it properly. Lately, she'd only been able to admire you whilst you sleep, or during meals.

In the morning you'd be gone in a blink of an eye. Throwing a haphazard, "I'll see you later", over your shoulder.

She missed you profoundly, so much that it physically pained her sometimes. Neytiri treasured you deeply, to put it bluntly - her heart felt like it'd been slashed by a Thanotor ever since you started pushing yourself away.

Jake followed in his mate's footsteps. His eye's tearing into your soul and trying to catch if there had been any distinct changes that have occurred to you.

"You don't look like yourself." Jake stumbled on his words.

Neytiri hissed, smacking your dad on the back of his head. A slight giggle escaped you that made both of their hearts sing. "Ma jake."

"Sorry." He mumbled, giving you a cheeky grin.

Y/n's doubts were already melting away before she herself could even acknowledge it. She grabbed both her parent's hands, leading them over to her tree not too far away from where they had been standing.

Mimicking how she and her siblings were just before. She settled against the tree again, bringing her parents down with her.

The trio admired their surroundings, taking in the wonders of Pandora. Especially Jake, and Neytiri. This is the closest they've felt to something akin to the jungle they'd once inhabited.

"I'm sure you heard everything, and it is true. I am sorry if I've disappointed you guys. I thought I could manage it all on my own."

Neytiri played with your hair and could only chastise your words. "You did not disappoint us, if anything - you infuriated us. We were just worried about you, our dear daughter."

Jake nodded in agreement. "We love you, and we want to be there for you. We will if you allow us. That's what we are here for. You don't need to fight these battles alone. Remember what I told you, baby girl?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed your dad away from you jokingly.

"It's us against the world." You mumbled.

Jake teasingly put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."

Neytiri let out a soft laugh at you two's antics, watching with endearment sparkling in her eyes.

Clearing your throat, you reiterated your words. "It's us against the world."

Jake did extravagant hand motions, "More enthusiasm please!"

You were beaming, yelling out, "It's us against the world!"

"That's right baby, it is." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you to his side. Neytiri instinctively leaned against you both.

Y/n couldn't help but admire her parents. They were her foundation, her protectors. She couldn't believe that she used to be ashamed of being a Sully. It was her legacy, one she is only beginning to pave. She wasn't about to let Na'vi who didn't truly know her, dictate her life any longer.

"You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." You started, staring at your parents.

"I just - I couldn't catch up. There are so many other bigger things to worry about, and I thought.. I don't know. That I'd overcome this. I tried to love the ocean and the people. But I miss home. I miss everything that was green, now it's just all blue! That's actually why I like this place so much." You rambled, arms waving erratically. It felt gratifying to get it off your chest, especially to the two people you have wanted to tell from the get-go.

Your parents nodded, taking all your words in. But they were still conflicted. Their daughter had a competitive nature like no other, every time the world pushed her down - she always got back up. If you were lagging behind so much, you would have just pushed yourself more. Work extra hard, and seek help from your family.

But you haven't done any of that this time. All the means necessary she could have used as a stepping stone were left out of this equation. Instead, you had suffered in silence.

"You know, Y/n. It's not your fault for feeling like you don't belong. But you are one of us. You are Sully, you are the embodiment of strong heart. It does not matter what others say to you when no one else is there. It does not matter that you have 5 fingers." Neytiri protested, sighing.

She made sure you were looking at her, hearing her.

"What matters is how you control how it affects you. You are still growing, baby. This is a lesson you will remember for a lifetime and the next." Neytiri advised you, squeezing your hand.

"Your mother is right. At the end of the day, the power is in your hands. So use it, sweetheart. Follow your heart, and let us know next time if it gets a little too much. Alright?" Jake expanded on what Neytiri had told you.

You looked down at their hands holding yours. Yeah, Sully's really do stick together. And you wouldn't trade that for anything else in this world and all the other's orbiting you.

"Alright." Y/n restated, tugging both of her parents up with her. They stared at their child with confusion.

"Let's go back home." This time what you threw over your shoulder to them was a sweet smile, dimples and all.

Neytiri and Jake spoke with only their eyes as they let Y/n guide them back to their Mauri.

Our daughter is going to be just fine.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

bonus:

Y/n's laughter could be heard inside the Mauri as she played in the water with Tuk just in front of their home.

Jake turned to Lo'ak and Neteyam who were doing some chores.

He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'll turn a blind eye if you decide to give Ao'nung a beating or two. Just for today." Jake mentioned, before going back to cleaning his gun.

Lo'ak had a devious grin, rubbing his knuckles together, "Yes Sir."

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

#junie's library 📚✧.*#atwow #neteyam sully x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #atwow spoilers #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar 2 #sully family x reader #sully family #kiri x reader #lo'ak x reader #avatar imagine #neytiri x reader #jake sully x reader

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aluciahaz · 2 months

Note

Mommy kink x reader fix for luci pls, idc the circumstances, I’m desperate here.

arent we all 😔 here u go!! it was pretty fun writing this, i love METAPHORS!!!!

touch of temptation

—lucifer x gn!reader

—includes : sub!lucifer, dom!reader, mommy kink, edging

lucifer’s been alone for quite some time now. yet, when you came around, you made sure to change that immediately.

of course, due to the absence of affection for years, he’s stuck to you like glue, always perking up when he sees you enter a room and running toward you with his stupid little grin.

albeit, adorable stupid little grin.

his desire for touch was not only apparent during daily life, always hooking his arm around you or poking you in jest, but in the nightlife as well.

lucifer was needy. desperate. his longing for touch was one you indulged in without question much of the time, yet some nights the two of you agreed upon abstaining him from such wants. he was the king of hell after all, of course, he’d be a little freaky.

which is why he was sobbing underneath your maddening touch, his head falling back as he cries in dismay from his inability to finish due to your quick reactions whenever he’d get close, pulling your hand away just in time to elicit a noisy whine from the king.

“l-let—me cum, mommy, please!” he wails as you drive into him, pushing him to the brink of insanity as your hand returns to his cock. he bucks up into your hand wildly, only to have his hips held down with a stern push.

“not yet, baby. stay strong for me,” you coo, yet your soft tone goes against your actions, sharp, fast, and most importantly, ruthless.

he snivels before taking in a deep, shuttering breath, nodding his head weakly at your request.

“o-okay! i’ll tr—AH!” his fingers dig into your skin, grasping onto your back like his life depended on it.

and it only gets rougher when you let go of his cock.

the scream of frustration that ripped from his throat was adorable, considering how it would get interrupted by his choking wails. you can’t help but place a kiss on top of his forehead, soothing him just a bit. he always melts at the slightest act of affection, it’s wonderful.

his legs wrap around your waist as though he‘s a snake trying to constrict its prey. he needed to hold onto you like this, to feel you as much as he could. you were his temptation, and he was willing to lose himself in it.

“pl-please please! mommy, i need—! ngh—f-fuck!” he pleads aimlessly, finding himself lost in his seemingly endless pleasure.

“use your words, baby,” you tell him, knowing fully well as you thrust faster that he would be unable to form a single sentence.

“ha—i, you—so goodwait—AH! c-can’t think-!” the fallen angel seemed to find his place back in heaven, considering how far up his head was in the clouds. but, he’s brought back down to hell as your hand finds its place around his shaft again, making him jolt in shock.

he whines louder and louder, tears never stopping as he takes what you give in full stride, never trying to go against your earlier command.

he was as sweet as an apple and red as one too with a never faltering blush across his face and chest. you couldn’t help but take a bite, his neck being the perfect area for a mark.

the shaky moans that leave him are beautiful, and with how well he was taking all of your love, you just had to give him his reward.

“you’re such a good boy,” you huff out a chuckle as you hear him whine in delight, soaking up the praise needily.

“you can cum for me now, my love,” you coo, drinking in his face of pure gratitude as he hears you.

“c-can i? can i re—ah—! really?” he asks as he cries in joyous disbelief, looking at you with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“yes, baby,” you say gently, and without a second’s hesitation, he shudders and screams in mind-breaking ecstasy, the horns on his head slowly peeking from his head as he finishes.

“th-thank—! thank—! thank y-you—mh—mommy!” he wails, his eyes rolling to the back of his head briefly before slowly looking back up at you with a dazed look.

his legs still tremble around your waist before slipping down to the bed, completely exhausted. you take your time to care for him, cleaning and making sure to cuddle your little touch-starved lover as quickly as you could.

he’s already asleep in your arms in the first few seconds, snoring lightly. you kiss the back of his neck delicately before heading off to rest as well.

and it would be peaceful until morning, where, like every morning, he would whine and clutch onto you to make sure you wouldn’t leave the bed, never able to fulfill his endless hunger for your touch.

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #bottom lucifer #sub lucifer

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kisseobie · 1 month

Text

jasmine

pairing: non idol jongseob x fem!reader

genre: fluff

a saccharine summer evening spent at your favorite nail parlor is so much sweeter when you’re accompanied by a boy made out of star-shaped tangerines 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

tags: established relationship, reader is slightly anxious, the sweetest boyfie seob, reader is sooo girly, slightly suggestive if you squint, jongseob thinks ur the prettiest girl in the world, usage of petnames (baby, princess, etc..), yall are so in love it’s sick, no smut in this but mdni pls

a/n: haiii everyone ^_^ so i haven’t written self inserts in years but i desperately crave more jongseob fics (as u can see from my last post lol) sooooo here i am!! this is very self indulgent but if i like how this goes i mighttttt start taking piwon requests :p please be kind as i haven’t written in a veryyyy long time… anyways enjoy 𓇼⋆｡˚

listening to: jasmine - dpr live ♪

“they have to soak off my previous set before they get started so you really don’t have to stay with me here if you don’t want to seob.. it’s gonna be 2 hours at least.”

you shyly inform him as you begin to retrieve your phone from your back pocket to search for your appointment confirmation email as the pair of you come to a gentle halt in front of the entrance of your favorite nail salon. you pause before entering, turning to face towards him as the salty breeze of the nearby boardwalk cards through jongseob’s copper colored hair, a sight that makes you swoon. “you sure you won’t be bored?” you ask shyly, and jongseob gives you a toothy grin in return, eyes crinkling softly as he tilts his head towards the sliding doors of the salon, a sweet and silent reply to your hesitance that speaks, “i’m never bored when i’m with you”. he slowly lifts his hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheek, all whilst interlacing his fingers with your slightly smaller ones as you both make your way into the salon.

you somehow find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

it’s been just short of a year since kim jongseob first approached you, fidgeting with the fabric of his favorite hoodie and swaying back and forth on his heels to ease his nerves as he asked you for your number. the sweet boy expected for you to kindly let him down (partly because you had never spoken to him a day in your life, and partly because of the gorillaz logo on his apparel), but to his astonishment, you simply punched your number into his keypad, and one text reading: “hi :)” led to a plethora of late night conversations, hushed giggles shared in his bedroom, and coffee flavored kisses in the mornings (much to his roomates’ dismay).

he’s wearing that same hoodie this evening too.

the domesticity of your blooming relationship is new, but never unwelcome, so it didn’t surprise you when he asked to accompany you when you were cuddled up with him a few nights ago, haphazardly mentioning that you were planning to get a new set of acrylics soon. seob had been paying for your previous sets despite your constant disapproval, but this was his first time going with you to a booking, and it felt oddly intimate, like you were starting to enter a more serious stage of your relationship.

jongseob’s reassurance allows you to let go of your irrational fear of him dying of boredom during your appointment, and with that, you two carry onto your seven o’clock session.

“girl, that’s your man? that’s the one you were telling me about?”

are the first words that leave your nail tech’s lips as as you settle down into her usual station, setting your purse to the side, straightening your jean skirt, and adjusting your bra strap as you question the surprise written all over her face. you had spent countless of sessions with her discussing your relationship with jongseob, her even being there for the details of your distant crush on him prior to you being asked out. always the persistent type, she had been practically begging for you to bring him around these last few appointments, mentioning something about “taking a good look” at the boy who had swiftly stolen your heart.

your tech must have noticed the slight blush of embarrassment appearing on your cheeks, because she jumped to clarifying her previous statement with, “i don’t mean that in a bad way babe! he’s definitely very attractive, i was just surprised you were so shy in approaching him is all.” at these words you tilted your head a bit, only more confused about the implications of what she was attempting to tell you.

“y/n, he was staring at you the entire time you were checking in like he’d hang the stars and moon for you if you’d ask. he had that dopey lovesick look and everything. he’s obviously smitten, you have literally nothing to worry about.” she relays to you with amusement as she dips your fingertips in acetone.

you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in and quietly giggle. “really? okay i’m really glad you said that, he’s been so sweet to pay for all of my sets without me even asking him to and i was just so worried that he’d hate me forever if he got bored sitting here. i think i’m just not used to doing simple chores with him rather than elaborately planned dates” you whisper to her. you then take a peek at your boyfriend’s comfortable form lounging on one of the hot pink seats of the salon, his nintendo switch clad in one hand, and his cheek pressing against the other. you notice he only has his left airpod in, just in case you needed to call for him. your heart melts at the sight, and you finally turn your full attention back to your tech, now removing your old set of nails.

as you wait patiently in your chair you begin to lightly sway your head to the song playing on a distant salon speaker, one that your boyfriend coincidentally has on repeat each time your with him nowadays. “it’s called jasmine, it reminds me of you.” is what you remember him telling you one morning, when you woke up for the first time in his bed, wired headphones connecting you both as the dpr live track overtook the cozy atmosphere.

every now and then you and seob glance at each other from across the salon, to which you both begin breaking out into big smiles and rosy cheeks. your nail technician carries on with replicating the reference nails you showed her to a T, but not without silently noting the heart eyes you and jongseob shoot at each other everytime your eyes happen to lock. this time, he mischievously motions for you to glance at your phone, a quiet “ding!” from your cell grasping both you and your tech’s attention.

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: you look so pretty right now baby, i’m so excited to feel your nails in my hair later lol

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: and maybe scratching my back too ;)

[seobie ᥫ᭡]: omg that was so embarrassing im so sorry please look away plead im so bad at this fuck

you look away from your screen embarrassingly fast, flustered and avoiding any eye contact with both your loser boyfriend (who is wallowing in his own embarrassment) and the woman now raising her eyebrows in front of you as she waits for your nails to cure under the uv lamp.

she is so making fun of you for that next time.

“andddd we’re done! just go wash your hands and your boyfriend can pay at the desk. he looks like he’s gonna flip if he isn’t holding you in some way in the next two minutes and i really don’t need to witness that.” she exclaims, not without exaggeratedly rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

you begin to fully assess your fresh new set of acrylics, now topped off with a sparkly clear coat. your nail tech even added some oil to your cuticles to try and make up for months of self-inflicted damage. after a minute of observing, you hum in approval, deducing happily that your boyfriend is going to love the colors you chose: tangerine with hints of cherry red to subtly match with his hair.

“perfect, just like always. thank you so much!” you say while handing her a generous tip, to which she holds out her hand in refusal and shakes her head. “no tip today, just go spend some time with him, i’m so happy for you y/n, seriously.” she replies kindly. you give her a hug to say thanks and tuck the cash back into your purse, turning and making your way towards the chair your boyfriend is currently occupying as he watches you with a warm smile, hands crossed in front of his chest as he holds back a laugh.

“what’s so funny?” you question as you approach him slowly.

“i called her beforehand and sent her a tip for you, i knew you were gonna try to pay somehow.” he giggles as he stands up. you scoff, but deep down you know you should have known he would outsmart you like this.

“i can’t believe you! i’ve told you a hundred times before that i don’t want you to spend your money on me!” you try to reason with him, to which he cuts your frustration off with a simple “who’s going to take care of you then, princess? now show me your nails!” he says as he hovers his hands in front of him, a signal for you to follow suit so he can observe the result of the previous two hours of work.

you decide to drop the subject for now and let excitement take over once again at his request, bouncing up and down whilst placing your hands atop of his palms, not allowing him to speak before you explain that “they match your hair, see? i asked her to do orange and red ombre!! and i know you love stars so i also asked her to add little golden star studs on my pinky nails! what do you think babe?” you half squeal out at him, clearly awaiting his approval.

“you did this for me?” he asks.

you deflate a little, dreading the small chance that your next words will result in an underwhleming reaction from him. “well yeah, sorry if it’s weird, i just wanted to do something nice since you offered to accompany me even though you would just be sitting in your chair for two hou—” he cuts off your anxious rambling with a strong kiss to your lips, followed by both of his palms covering the sides of your face to pull you impossibly closer. you gasp from the sudden movement, and just as you close your eyes to reciprocate, your boyfriend pulls back to show you the prettiest smile you have ever seen on his face.

“i guess you like them.” you sheepishly respond, holding back a smile equally as large.

he just replies by peppering your tanned skin with tangerine flavored kisses, each peck accompanied with the words “i love you, i love you so much”.

you and jongseob finally step out of the salon hand in hand, the cool air blowing onto your faces as you squeeze your interlocked fingers. jongseob presses on the pedestrian call button with one hand as you both anticipate the streetlamp to shift to green. you fill the comfortable silence with giggles and the occasional kiss to the cheek the entire commute to the subway, uncaring of prolonged glances from onlookers. words are only spoken an hour later when you’ve finally enter the warmth of his (and practically your) bedroom. jongseob turns towards you this time, clearly not as timid as he was hours before, smirking while pronouncing,

“in case you were still wondering, that offer from my text earlier still stands…”

it’s your turn to roll your eyes and shut him up, tugging him roughly towards you with the front of his stupid hoodie as your mouths connect with an urgency you’ve never felt before, the pair of you hurriedly falling on top of his bed as your nails make contact with his scalp.

𓇼⋆｡˚

in the quiet of the night, considered by some as early hours of the morning, jongseob holds your bare frame tightly against his own as he strokes his hand along your freckled back. your warm breaths tuck into the small crevices of his chest as your tangerine tinted nails draw hearts lightly into his skin, and with that, the two of you gradually lull into a peaceful slumber, but not before you look up at him and whisper,

“i did it for you.”

a/n: mwahahahahahahahaha it’s finally out.. thank u for being patient!! it was honestly so motivating to see that despite the fact that so many people had never read my writing before, their love for jongseob made them crave this fic soooo much LMFAOO we all are so down bad for this man it’s a bit insane. anyways like i said i haven’t written for years so this was short and a little choppy but i tried my best and hopefully i’ll get better with time ^_^ anyways i’ll be finishing up my next fic soon and then i’ll start working on requests!! thank u for reading, it means a lot to me <3

please do not repost my writing!

tags:

@chuuswifereal @angelcbf @lakoya @zendieya-8 @bambispostsblog @saturnh0ney @theyluvsosa @youresolivlie @woozixo @www90kitsch @sirenla @ihatewreckingballmains @curiousgworge @haileyyey @khfviq @highkeyadumbasslmao @lovebunnys-world @astro-doll-the-star @kyokopi @meowmeowjang @imma-penguin1 @sophia-is-tiny

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#jongseob #jongseob x reader #p1h #p1h jongseob #p1harmony #kpop writers #p1harmony x reader #kim jongseob #piwon #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony drabbles

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ncroissant · 9 days

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PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS CAN YOU MAKE A FIC WHERE WE EDGE SUB!HUSBAND! FRANCIS AND THEN FUCK HIM DUMB AFTER BECAUSE HE'S BEEN SUCH A GOOD BOY AND MAYBE OVERSTIM HIM PLS PLS

sub! husband! francis mosses x dom!doppelganger! gn! reader

summary: punishing your puppy husband (pt. 1 here)

wc: 1.3k

content warning: nsfw, established relationship, anal, cock can be read as a strap, dom/sub dynamics, nipple play, overstimulation, humping against objects, public-ish sex, francis getting through the window, hand job, dirty talk, doggy francis, collaring

author's note: hi my lovelies, i'm so sorry for the long hiatus, finals season had be worn out! i'm back now, but will be posting slower than usual :( happy to still lots of engagement on my page, u guys are the sweetest!! anyways thanks for the ask anon:) hope u guys enjoy this one!! not proof read, minors please dni !!

when he heard the door click, he felt anticipation welling up in his stomach.

you creaked the door open, looking down at the mess your husband left. the pillows were messily arranged on the couch, probably soaked in his cum and his clothes were abandoned on its armrests.

there sat your needy husband, sitting on the carpet in front of the door. he was sat flat on the ground, knees spread, balls rubbing against the floor. his fat cock was barely contained in his tight black panties and his neck was collared with a long, red leash.

he didn't need any instruction on what to wear or what position to be in while he anticipated your arrival, he already knew.

"hi honey," you cooed, walking up to him with disinterested, ruffling his hair. "what with the mess, hm?" you looked around, acting as if you didn't notice the mess before.

he whimpered, hips grinding against the carpet like a puppy. "o-oh, 'm sorry, dovie. just wanted to get ready for you," he pouted, looking up at your with his big, doe eyes.

he looked so pretty when he looked up at you, so desperately wanting you to compliment how he looked or how sexy he looked sitting on the floor, awaiting your next command. anything to elicit praise would make him literally cum on the spot.

"yeah, i see that. but surely 15 minutes is enough time to clean up around here, right?" you tilt his chin up, smiling down at him menacingly. he mirrored your nod, looking more distressed by the minute.

you let go of his chin to his dismay, bending down to pick up his leash. "c'mon pup, you know the drill," you tugged at his leash, pulling him forward. he fell on his hands and knees, crawling behind you.

you brought him to the bedroom, leading him to the window. "on your feet," you instructed as he quickly followed suit. he was expecting a spanking, overstimulation until he was soaking the sheets white, but this was different.

"up against the window, francie. hands up here," you guided him, his cock flushed against the window, as he peered over at the city.

from this view, everyone looked so small. even so, it was still embarrassing for francis to be naked in front of a window. "what're we doing, dovie?" francis bit his lip, looking back at you with an antsy look.

"well since you love letting everyone know how much of a slut you are, i thought maybe i should indulge you a bit more," you pressed a kiss against his ear, placing your chin on his shoulder.

"begging so desperately for me to play with you over the phone while i was on the job," you whispered, dragging your fingers down to his v-line. "you wanted someone to watch you play with yourself, right puppy?"

he winced at the coolness of your fingers when you gripped the base of his cock. his legs were shaking, the little people feeling much closer than they actually were. "n-no, i was just...hnngh..." he breathlessly moaned.

this was turning him on a lot more than he thought. he was in the comfort of his own home, but still felt like he was display for the entire city. watching the way you played with his cock, stroking slowly.

"are you gonna be more honest with me, honey?" you murmured, your palm rolling over the tip of his cock. he jolted, feeling himself get close. he's been close, long before you stepped through the door, awaiting the punishment in store for him.

"uh-huh...nghh...i-i'll be...g-gughh, good," he was basically gurgling on his saliva, drool dripping down his lips. "f-fugh, fuck, just the tip, hngh?" he questioned, feeling his cheek smush against the glass.

you switched to stroking, pulling back at his foreskin. his eyes rolled back at the action. "such a perfect boy, hm?" you praised, toying with his slit with your thumb. "should i be more honest with you too, honey?"

he jutted against your hand, feeling his hips stutter. "m-mhm! please, dovie?" he huffed, his fingertips greasing up the window.

"honestly, i'm not gonna stop until this entire window stained in cum," you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look forward. "'n if someone sees you from their apartment, i want you to be a good boy and give them a big smile."

there was an apartment adjacent to yours, relatively far but still visible to see people through their windows. francis felt his cock throb at your confession, nodding rapidly at your wishes.

your hands were stroking at the perfect speed for him to cum, but he knew better than that. a drop of cum leaking out meant a day without cock and quite frankly, he could not survive even a second without a cock buried in his stupidly tight hole.

"pretty panties today, honey. these new?" you tugged at the band, letting them snap back onto his pale skin. he jumped, accidentally pumping himself into your fist like a flesh light.

once he started, he couldn't stop. his hips were fucking into your fist, he felt himself getting close. "oooOOGH...'s so, fuck, hnngh," his hands balled into fists, eyes closed to imagine you doing more than just jerking his leaky dick.

you released your hold on his cock, his nearly bursting tip brushing against the glass. "tryna be cute, huh?" you chuckled, completely removing yourself from him. "looked like you real close, huh?"

"unghh...dovie, 's so, so hot. 'm so f-full of cum," he whined, smearing his pre-cum against the window. his mouth hung open, panting like a dog, leaning his cheek against the window once more.

"someone's not listening, hm?" you rubbed the bulge of your cock against his nearly exposed ass. he mewled out a moan, tears spilling out of his eyes. he was so close.

you had continuously lead him close to an orgasm, only to let go of him and let him cry his little heart out from the lack of release. his eyebrows would furrow and his lip with jut out in frustration.

and every time he'd complain, you'd reach your hands up to his nipples to turn him into a crying, moaning mess.

you'd pinch and pull at them. waving your fingers over them making him puff his chest out. you'd flick at them quickly, watching as he squirmed in your hold.

"yeah, that's what i thought," you laughed, giving them one final poke.

and when you finally deemed him worthy of a good orgasm, you'd give him so many until he was physically out of cum.

"ahhhnngghhh! 's t-too much, dovie!" he exclaimed, eye crossed, head fuzzy. "y-your cock 's soo deep, hngh, feels good, oooNGH!" he threw his head back when your hit his prostate, making him cum.

your window was more than stained, cum dripping down to your carpeted floors. "too much? didn't you beg for this, puppy?" you tugged at his collar, hand gripping onto his waist.

you thrusted deeply into him, grunting at the impact. "s-someones, hic, watchin' me, dovie, mnngh..." he mumbled, making eye contact with the guy who was jerking off to the sight of your messy husband, cum splattered all over his tummy.

"remember what i told you, honey? give 'em a show," you urged him, fingers prodding at his puffy nub, tugging them towards the window. his tongue stuck out, a smile gracing his lips.

he looked so slutty. tears and drools rolling down his face, cock grinding against the cum-stained glass and his bright, pink nipples pressing up against the window.

your perfect slut.

"say cheese, dovie," you cooed, thrusting into him one last time, cum spilling into his hole. it filled him so well that it was dripping down his inner sides, legs shaking.

your fingers slowly rubbed his nipples, as he twitched from his nth orgasm, huffing wildly. he swallowed, throat dry from all his moaning. he got into position, legs spread, ass pressed deeper against your pelvis with your cock nestled in him. his eyes trailed to the guy who watched you breed him for the past hour.

"cheeeese." he smiled.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #sub francis mosses #tnmn milkman #milkman #tnmn #thats not my neighbor #that's not my neighbour #that's not my neighbor #x reader #ncrescent asks

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cdbabymp3 · 1 month

Note

your writing is so incredible u are feeding the hamzah girls DAILY 😛 currently thinking about if u were friends/mutual friends with him but you always had this sexual tension and then one night u both finally broke…

𐙚needs ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: nsfw !! THE LONG AWAITED ROOMATE FIC IS HERE !! sexual tension leading to unprotected sex, pretend ur on the pill idk idk! self indulgent height difference between hamzah and reader 🥸 post ovulation clarity is hitting ... pls don't judge me for this i was quite literally in a primal state

listen to the song while reading, thank me later

yours and hamzah's apartment is quiet. so quiet you can hear the cars pass by, the sound slipping in from the cracked open window. it's been almost 3 days without air conditioning, which isn't ideal for the middle of summer in toronto. because of this, you and hamzah have had no choice but to wear a limited amount of clothing around each other. for you, it's been a thin tank top (so thin you can see the lace detail of your bra through it) and jean shorts (the ones you wore to summer camp freshman year, the material always shorter than you remember). for hamzah, it's been his gym shorts (the extra short ones he wears for lifting that give you a full view of his thick thighs), and a random short-sleeved shirt that hugged his biceps tightly. however, with the increasing heat inside your home, lately he's given up on wearing a shirt. it was a sight nothing could've prepared you for. you kept replaying the moment from earlier over and over in your head, his back muscles flexing as he emptied bags of groceries and stocked the fridge. engulfed by the cold air, hamzah decided to stand in front of the fridge, fully on display as he tried to lower his body temperature. the way he closed his eyes and rolled his neck in relief affected you physically.

this morning, you had to ignore the feeling because you had other things to get done. but now, lying atop your duvet and staring at the ceiling, the feelings finds its way back. you don't want to ignore it anymore. the hot july air, the sound of hamzah typing on the other side of the wall that separates you, the image of his bare torso...it's all too much. you huff, equal parts sexual frustration and annoyance from how hot your apartment was getting. even as the sun goes down, the warm air makes your baby hairs stick to your forehead, something hamzah told you he found cute. he had a way of complimenting you so innocently, yet you always took it as more. in some way, you felt like he wanted you to take it as more. with this notion, you muster up the courage and get out of bed, deciding to go bother hamzah. you exit your room and walk two short steps, approaching his door, which is wide open. the sight before you, even better than this morning, almost causes a guttural noise to leave your mouth. hamzah sat at his desk, shirtless, gym shorts riding up dangerously high, and his glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. he's so focused on typing on his computer that he doesn't register your presence whatsoever. you knock on the wall gently, making him turn in his chair with a little squeak and push his glasses up.

"hey," you nod, quickly trying to craft what you want to say next

"oh, hey." he matches your nod, closing his browser and giving you his full attention.

you rub the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and sigh, "i can't do this, i'm dying."

he laughs at your dramatics, picking up his phone from his desk and scrolling through the weather app, "i know, it's getting worse too. it's not supposed to cool down till midnight."

"great." you quip, "what did the landlord say about the A/C?"

"uhhh" hamzah switches on his phone over to messages, "he said the repair guy can't come till monday morning."

you let out a groan, holding your hair up in a makeshift ponytail. you can't help but eye him down and it doesn't go unnoticed. hamzah clears his throat and shifts in his seat, which emits another squeak. you both laugh at the noise and he pretends to be pissed off, getting up from the chair and walking up to you. you suddenly feel overwhelming aware of both of your nearly bare figures being so close to each other. it seems like he's not going to stop walking until he's a mere few inches away. he gestures past where you stand in the doorway and you give him a confused look, but let him past you. he trails down the hall into the kitchen and you follow behind, getting another lovely view of his naked back. like earlier, he swings the fridge door open and lets the cold air hit his exposed skin. he hums in delight, beckoning you by hand to join him. once you're close enough, he sets his cold hands on the warm flesh of your shoulders and moves your figure in front of his, so you're the one directly in front of the fridge.

"good?" he asks, trying to position you in the optimal spot so the air hits your shorter frame.

goosebumps form as the chilled air travels up your arms and legs, reaching your neck and face in the process. it feels fucking amazing, but the fabrics of your top creates an undesired barrier. with his large hands still on your shoulders, the desire for him grows stronger. you bite your lip, choosing to take a risk.

"it's good, but i'm still a little warm." you say with every hope he catches on to your flirting for once.

"yeah," he speaks after a drawn out silence, "it's probably your top."

you try to hide your smirk, but it's useless. "you think?" rhetorical, but it does the trick on him.

hesitantly, his fingers find the hem of your tight tank top and toy with it, "mhm," peeling the the fabric up your stomach and chest, until it's over your head and thrown somewhere on the counter. "see?" his low voice and the newfound stimulation from the coldness hitting your bare torso sends chills down your spine.

you nod adamantly, feeling your heartbeat pick up, the pulse thrumming almost out of your chest. you want this so bad and you're starting to think he does too.

"hamzah" you whisper, turning so you're face to face.

he looks down at you, looking like he's going to say something, but struggles to find the words. you open your mouth to help, but are cutoff by him grabbing your face and kissing you. your eyes widen in pure shock, then shut, feeling his needy hands squeeze at your hips. you attempt to get a handful of his hair to grab, but your height difference makes it hard. even on your tip toes, it's not enough. hamzah takes note of your efforts and crouches down, hands taking hold of the back of your thighs and picking you up. you squeal into the kiss, immediately, arms hooking around his neck and legs wrapping around his lower waist. the fridge still wide open, hamzah turns both of you around. he sets you down on the counter, lips going to your neck and sucking the sensitive skin until you yelp. you rake a hand through his curls, pushing his head lower down your chest. his full lips leave open-mouthed kisses down the tops of your breasts, down your stomach, until he gets to the waist of your jean shorts. he looks up at you, waiting for your approval, to which you give him in the form of an embarrassing whine. he fiddles with the button and zipper of your shorts, sliding them down your legs. once, they're to your ankles, hamzah throws them and they knock over a glass of water on the kitchen table. usually, he'd run over and clean up the spill, but his hunger for you clouded any concern about water on the floor. you can't help but feel relieved by his neediness, no longer ashamed about the things you used to imagine doing with him because you were doing them now. he takes the hem of your underwear and pulls it down, this time you kick the article of clothing off at your ankles. the mixture of the fridge's coolness and hamzah's warm tongue licking a stipe against your heat made your jaw go slack. it wasn't enough for him, though, so he drags your thighs closer to himself, causing you to lay down against the counter. he sucks on your clit, alternating between licking and kissing in the process. you whimper, legs wrapping around his head, heels digging into his bare back to bring him even closer. he pauses for a moment and you swear you could cry from the sudden lack of stimulation. you look up to see him take off his glasses, setting them aside on the counter and going back to work. you can feel the knot in your stomach building, your impending orgasm approaching closer than you expected.

"h-hamzah- ah, wait, wait" you pant, sitting up by your elbows.

he stops, looking up in fear, your arousal coating his chin. the sight alone could make you cum, if you were being fully honest.

"want me to stop?" he wipes his chin, caressing your thigh with his free hand sweetly.

"yeah-no. but i don't wanna cum yet..." you admit, oddly getting shy.

"do you wanna go to my room?" he asks

"please." is all you can spit out as he grabs your hips and gets you off the counter. he kicks the fridge door shut, taking your hand and leading you to his room. once inside, he waits for your next move.

"should i-"

playfully, you push him onto his bed, straddling his waist. you can feel how turned on he is underneath you, telling you everything you need to know. this whole time you thought this infatuation was one-sided....you were dead wrong.

his room his hot, the residual coolness from the fridge leaving both your bodies by the second. this and your unfinished orgasm give you the extra push you need to initiate things quicker, which gets absolutely no complaints from hamzah.

you take off your bra, getting off hamzah for a second so he can take off his shorts and boxers. straddling him once more, you slide down onto his erection. there's little resistance due to your arousal, eliciting a throaty moan from you and hamzah. once you're fully sunken down on him, you grab onto his shoulder and he holds your ass. starting slow, you lift your hips up and down to get into a rhythm. while the motion is nice, it doesn't get you to where you want to go. ideally, you want your first hookup with hamzah to be long and thorough, but you weren't sure how much longer you can handle being without release. you start to rock your hips back and forth, grinding so hard that his pelvic bone hits your clit with each movement you make.

hamzah starts to move your ass as your grind, only making the stimulation more intense. you quicken your pace, if it's even possible, moving back and forth so fast that the headboard of the bed repeatedly hits the wall. the squelching of your arousal with each move you make leaves hamzah in complete awe, feeling his own release chase close behind.

"oh god" you moan, gripping his arms tighter, fingernails digging into his skin and making crescent shapes.

"you got it, baby.... i'm almost there too." he breathes out heavily, helping you keep your pace going as you start to feel weak.

the room feels like it's on fire, both your bodies covered in sweat, hair sticking your foreheads with flushed faces, as you reach your highs together. you scream, feeling yourself come undone on him and he kisses you through it, muffling your noises. his own high follows shortly after, whimpering into the heated kiss.

breaking contact, you're both a panting, sweaty mess. you look at him with half-lidded eyes, wiping a bead of sweat that dribbles down his cheek. you giggle as he moves away the hair that sticks to your face so he can see you all the way.

"so, how long have you been wanting to do that?" he teases, still catching his breath.

"i should ask you the same thing." you fire back

you think he's gonna spout something cocky, but he laughs, "since we signed that fucking lease and moved in here."

you laugh too, covering your face sheepishly, but he takes your wrists in his hands so you can't hide, kissing you with every last ounce of energy he has left.

running and hiding forever goodbye.

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @junebugin-july , @itgirlvirgo , @sie17136 , @1312006 , @kingvioleta , @hrt-attack , @scarvain , @ldrvinyl , @mochotea , @24kmar

lmk if i missed u or u wanna be tagged, idk why its so hard for me to keep track of tags literally a 5 yr old could do it

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzahthefantastic imagines #hamzahthefantastic x you #hamzahthefantastic headcannons #slushy noobz #cdbabymp3 #IM GONNA THROW UP THIS IS SO???

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fairyhaos · 10 months

Text

. ˚ you're everything to me

requested by @cinnamoroxie : could u write some angst ending in fluff and comfort (heavy of f + c please) with minghao and reader is just having an awful day and snaps at hao? then kinda realizes and starts crying and apologizing and honestly just end it w comfort pls <33

pairing: minghao x gn!reader

genre: mild angst, brief fight, crying, comfort, fluff

word count: 2702

warnings: curse words, hao + reader touch ceramic shards with bare hands

notes: it's funny, because i've actually had this idea half-written before a request was even sent in! so this is half a request, and half self-indulgent deluluisms from me haha

summary: minghao may not be a mind reader, and he may not be able to know everything about you in the blink of an eye, but he knows how to make things better again. and really, he thinks that that's all that truly matters.

Honestly, Minghao is actually quite proud that he's able to tell your mood just from the way you open the front door.

Before you even unlock it, he can hear the aggressive key shaking, and you slam the door shut behind you with such force that the whole apartment feels like it's shuddering. He looks up from his book, setting it down on the bedside table and walking out into the hallway when there's a loud crash, and a string of curses whips him across the face.

You're crouched down on the floor, next to the broken pieces of what used to be the ceramic key bowl that was kept by the door. Neither of you used it, really, but it seemed that it had fallen over when you'd knocked your arm against it in your anger, and now your hands are shaking, frame hunched over the broken pieces, and he can tell that you are upset.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asks, instantly, and then regrets it as your entire frame stiffens with annoyance.

You're in a bad mood—a horrible one, actually, and any sort of mild confrontation from anyone will make you blow up in ways that he knows you'll regret afterwards.

"What do you think, Xu Minghao?" you hiss out, not looking up, trying to collect the broken pieces of the bowl.

Minghao doesn't reply, simply looking down at you before sighing, walking towards where you're crouched on the floor.

"Here, let me do it," he says, calmly, gently. His hands replace yours on the floor, gathering up the ceramic pieces. You won't let him take the pieces already in your hands, though, stubborn, but he just lets you, walking into the living room to deposit the pieces into the nearest bin.

Neither of you say anything about how you really shouldn't be picking up ceramic shards with bare hands, nor about the fact that it probably means there's still some left on the floor. Because that's not important at the moment.

Minghao turns to face you, but you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, brow furrowed tightly.

"Y/N? Love?" He tries to get you to meet his eyes, but you're steadfastly looking somewhere else, anywhere else, refusing to look at him. That's a sure sign that you're trying not to cry, and he's told you to release your emotions when it gets too much, but it's hard for you, and even though he gets frustrated by that, he still wants to try and help.

"Minghao, I've had the shittiest day. Just… leave me alone."

He shakes his head, trying to step closer to you. "I can't do that. You know I can't do that."

"Yes you can," you bite back, almost instantly, and he blinks. "God, there's no need to be so worried over me, okay? I don't need you hovering over me like I'm going to fucking break. All I did was break that bowl, it's not a big deal."

Well. Minghao knows that this is your anger talking, but it's just so hard to continue talking to you gently when you're biting at his outstretched hand. "Then why are you so upset?”

“Why do you need to know?” you say, and sidestep him, walking out of the room.

“Why do you not want me to know?” he counters, following you. He can hear your eye roll, and he knows he’s getting on your nerves, but he wants to know. He wants to help. “Is it because of the bowl?”

You yank open the fridge, staring at it, before slamming the door shut. “Yeah. I’m in a shitty mood because of the bowl. Because I broke that fucking bowl.” You stare at him, blankly, irritatedly. “Happy now?”

No, he’s not happy, not in the slightest. Minghao crosses his arms, staring at you from across the kitchen. “Tell me the real reason, Y/N. What happened today? Did someone say something to you?”

You roll your eyes, hard, turning away and busying yourself with opening drawers and looking inside them for no reason at all. You can’t tell Minghao the real reason you’re acting like this. Because it’s stupid, to just say that it’s because you woke up feeling ‘wrong’ and then your entire day had just been tiringly normal.

“No. I just told you, it’s because I broke that stupid bowl.”

There’s a part of you that’s screaming at yourself for constantly being so curt and snappish with Minghao when you know he’s only trying to help, but your pride and the bigger, more hurt, more prickly part of you can’t bear to stop digging into this hole of irritation and anger that you’ve been making.

And so you keep going, shovel clanging hopelessly against the ground even as every bone is crying in protest.

“We can always buy a new bowl,” Minghao is saying, gently, understandingly, and it’s so logical and well-intentioned that the ugly urge to shoot it down rises up in you.

"Yeah, of course you'd fucking say that," you spit, and it sounds so horrible and you want to take it back, but you're just so upset and embarrassed that you can't.

And so what do you do?

You keep going.

“You’re always thinking so logically, like everything can be solved just like that, aren’t you? Well some things… some things just aren’t like that, Minghao.” You gesture wildly at yourself. “Like me. You think that by coming up to me, asking so softly ‘are you okay’ that I’m going to be fine? That—that all my pain is just going to fucking disappear? I asked you to leave me alone. I don’t need you on my back all the time. It’s annoying.”

Minghao’s face has fallen, his expression stony and still. His ears are red, and he crosses his arms, looking you up and down. “I’m sorry I’m not a fucking mind reader. I don’t know what you’re thinking if you don’t tell me, okay? I need to be on your back so I can help you. So I can do what you need.”

“And I told you I need you to shove off,” you spit, knuckles white against the countertop, shaking. Every horrible, disgusting feeling is rising inside of you, uncontrollable, higher and higher with incredible speed and now it’s crashing down, over you and over Minghao. “I don’t need you.”

“Yes, you do,” Minghao says, but you’re already shaking your head.

“I just said I don’t, didn’t I? You said you’re not a mind reader, so here’s me telling my mind to you.” Your fingers have gone numb. So has your chest. But you carry on. “Leave me. The fuck. Alone.”

The words are harsh, spat out like whistling bullets, and Minghao physically takes a step back, surprised. You hadn’t yelled, hadn’t raised your voice, but the malice and fury in your voice had shocked the both of you, and suddenly the waves have soaked you, leaving you shivering and cold and looking at him with a sense of clarity. Like coming out of a red-hot haze.

Minghao’s eyes are wide, and the hurt in them is so visible it’s like it’s tangible, that earlier irritation gone and simply replaced with shock. Shock that you said something like that to him.

“Oh,” you whisper, and it’s like the blood is running frozen in your veins, a sudden dowsing of reality, showing you what you’ve just done. Your vision is going blurry, heart having abruptly unthawed and begun pounding, startled, in your chest. “Hao…”

Minghao doesn't reply, and that makes you feel even worse, the worries now overtaking your earlier anger and making you fear that you're losing him, losing your wonderful, wonderful Minghao all because of words you didn't mean.

You sniff, eyes welling up faster, and you feel a little pathetic over how you're crying because of what you'd said, but you're just so exhausted and everything hurts. "I'm sorry… Hao, I'm so sorry."

The tears spill over, now, and you keep on wiping at your cheeks but they continue to fall, endless, incessant.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you know I— I don't mean that," you whisper, shaky. Every time you try to clear your gaze, everything ends up blurred again, and Minghao is just a watery outline in front of you. "I'm just so… so—" you bite your lips, stifling a sob. "I'm just so tired."

You can't speak anymore, too overcome, a hand over your mouth in an attempt to hide your pathetic, selfish sobs, the other hand clutching your stomach. Your entire body feels like it's lurching, sick with fatigue and fear.

But then, one moment you're standing there, trembling in the corner of the kitchen, and next there are arms wrapping around you and a chin resting on your head with a shoulder pressed into your cheeks.

"I know, love, I know," Minghao murmurs, and he's still being so gentle and it makes you feel even worse. "It's okay. Shh, it's okay."

One of the reasons you love hugging and being hugged by Minghao is because he hugs in such an all-encompassing way. His arms engulf you, his scent is everywhere, and his shoulder is in your mouth and his neck in your eyes and there's just so much Minghao surrounding you that you kind of feel like crying even more.

"I'm sorry," you're whispering, again and again, into his shoulder, and even through the tears he can understand you loud and clear.

"It's okay," he says, softly, one hand rubbing circles into your back and the other wrapped firmly around your waist, keeping you pressed as close as possible to him. "Don't apologise, I understand, it's alright."

The softness in his voice makes you whimper, feeling undeserving of such understanding. "Minghao…"

He makes soft soothing sounds, keeping his arms tight around you, his hand firm and warm at your waist, grounding you with the touch, reminding you of his presence. You're clinging to his shoulders as if he's going to disappear any moment, and in response he only holds you impossibly tighter.

"I know, I know, it's okay, don’t worry," he says, tilting his head slightly to kiss your temple. "Minghao is here for you, okay? You can cry as much as you want."

Minghao is someone who's very sturdy. He's firm, he's always very there, and it makes him so perfect to hug. He's not the biggest fan of physical touch, and it isn't often that you have such meltingly intertwined hugs like this, but there are times when both of you crave that touchiness. Like now, you suppose. And when you do, he's always, always willing to give it to you. And vice versa.

"My Y/N had a hard day today, hm?" he asks, letting you cry quietly into his shoulder. You nod, just slightly, and he sighs softly. "Oh, dear. I'm so sorry, my love. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I'm sorry," you try to say, again, but he shushes you before you can finish.

"No, there's no need to be sorry, I understand completely," Minghao murmurs. "You're tired, and I pushed you too far. I'm sorry."

Minghao is so warm, so comforting, and after a moment your legs buckle and you fall. He falls partway with you, helping you to your feet again, and he keeps you pressed against his chest as he slowly backs out of the kitchen and into the living room, falling onto the sofa, you still in his arms.

This way, you're curled up in his lap, safely cocooned in his arms, in his presence. He looks down at you, soft, wiping the wetness that's staining your jawline.

"Shh, don't worry, my love," he says soothingly, thumb still rubbing gently up and down your jaw, holding you as you cry. His other arm is still around you, your head against his chest, and it just feels so safe. "Cry as much as you need. I'm here."

And so you do. Several minutes pass, or perhaps hours, but Minghao holds you through it all, whispering words of praise and reassurance, repeating over and over that it’s okay, that you’re doing okay, that he’s here and he loves you. And eventually, when the tears die down and you’re taking in big, shaky breaths, he dabs at your eyes with his fingers, and it doesn’t clear up the tears all that much but now you can see him properly, see him smile down at you so, so lovingly.

His hand is tracing nonsensical patterns across your side, the other swiping a thumb delicately across the under of your eyes. His eyes are soft as he looks at you, and there’s no hurt or irritation in them, as you’d feared. Only pure understanding.

"Feeling better?" Minghao asks, a rumbling whisper, and you duck your head, leaning against his chest once more.

“Don’t know,” you whisper, sounding all clogged up due to the tears. After a moment, you add, “Head hurts.”

That makes him chuckle softly. “I can imagine. You cried a lot, love.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry,” Minghao says, clicking his tongue. Just a simple sound. No malice, no annoyance. “It’s good to release your emotions, rather than bottling them all up until you can’t handle them anymore.”

“Still, ‘m sorry,” you mumble, ashamed, guilt pricking your insides, but less intense than before. Soothed by Minghao’s warm hand on your cheek. “Sorry for saying that. Sorry for making you sad. I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“Don’t say sorry,” is all Minghao says, again. “And while it’s true that I can’t read your mind, I should have been able to read your body language. I’ll be more aware next time, and give you the space you need.”

You shake your head. “No, no. I think… I think I did want you with me. I was just so angry that I said the opposite, out of spite.”

“Okay,” Minghao says. “That’s okay.”

And the way he says it makes you begin to believe that it really is.

"Want to talk about it?" he asks quietly after a moment, watching you play with your hands.

"No," you whisper back.

He clicks his tongue again disapprovingly, playfully. "You know it's not a good thing to keep this in. It's better to talk it out."

"Don't want to."

Minghao watches as you take his hands into your own, bending his fingers and circling his knuckles with fingertips before interlacing your hands together, secure. He squeezes your hand, once, and something warm blooms in his chest at the quiet, happy noise you let out.

"Don't need to talk about it," you say. "I'm feeling better now."

"You do?"

You nod, and he smiles, squeezing your hand again.

"I'm glad."

Your hand is warm in his, warmed by the contact, and perhaps a little sticky with sweat and remnants of tears but he doesn't care. Having you breathe steadily against him, having you on him, calm and relaxed once again has the same effect as if he had been the one to go through a relaxation routine.

It makes him relieved, to know that he’s been able to relax you, to get you out of whatever frustrated headspace you’d been in before. You dig your nails into the soft skin on the back of his hand, just lightly, and the playful move makes him smile.

"Y/N?"

You hum in acknowledgement.

"I'm always going to be here for you," he says, and he says it simply, like it's just a fact, and maybe. Maybe it really is.

"Thank you," you say back, and you feel light, like your worries from earlier truly have been lifted.

Huh. Perhaps there really was truth to the idea of how sharing a problem can lessen the load.

“Hao?” you say after a moment.

He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, cheek pressed against the top of your head. “Hm?”

“You’re everything to me,” you say, soft, shy. “Please stay with me.”

That makes him smile, and he lifts himself away to press a kiss to your forehead, feather-light, before resting against your head once more.

“Of course,” he murmurs. “Of course.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @minhui896 ,, @bunnyiix ,, @slytherinshua ,, @haowrld ,, @belladaises ,, @moonlitskiiies ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @butiluvu ,, @zozojella ,, @kawennote09 ,, @thedensworld ,, @a-wandering-stay ,, @abibliolife ,, @doublasting ,, @wonranghaeee ,, @icyminghao ,, @sweet-like-caramel ,, @your-yxnnie ,, @evasaysstuff

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seventeenpins · 9 months

Text

triptych - pt ii

pairing: tommy miller x joel miller x f!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: after a shitty day, the man you've been chatting with all evening brings you back to his place only for you to discover he lives with his brother, an old flame of yours. they both fuck you. pre-outbreak. 18+

warnings: ooof i know i'm gonna miss something but here goes! multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy eating, dick sucking, ass eating/ass play, anal, joel miller is an ass man, double penetration, it's literally just porn there is so little substance here it's shameful, probably not incest but maybe a little??? like the brothers aren't into each other but their balls kinda touch so i'll leave that just in case..., light spanking, creampie, light breeding?, pls tell me if i'm missing anything important

a/n: wowowow i cannot believe how fuckin lovely y'all are, i hadn't been writing for years but i certainly never received so much feedback. thanks for reading and interacting and being part of such a cool and deeply horny community 😅 my asks are always open and i'd love to take on some requests! thank u to those who've sent some so far, i'm working on them now. besides requests, upcoming fics include a follow-up to bad girl and a vampire au 💕

also, thank you for indulging in this pairing!! (grouping?) i feel like a lot of threesome fics are very pro-joel with tommy cucking, and though they're fucking excellent, i wanted to give tommy some love and an equal place at the side of his incredibly hot brother.

check out part i

when you'd first sat down at that grimy dive bar, never in a million years would you have anticipated the scene that was unfolding in front of you now.

“shit," tommy says, "she looks so nice down on her knees for us, huh joel?”

joel looks feral as he stares you down. "such a good girl for us,” he agrees, “but we gotta see if that mouth can do more than talk.”

he's holding your wrists behind your back, while tommy grips a firm hand through your hair and unbuckles his belt with the other.

"open up, baby," tommy says, and presses one finger into your mouth and then another. he gently strokes his fingers in and out of your mouth, pressing into your tongue, slowly going deeper and deeper till you're sure you can feel the digits at the back of your throat. you can feel that you've started to drool a little, and tommy lets out a little groan at the discovery.

"you think you're ready for me?" tommy asks, and you nod.

in one smooth motion, his cock is springing from his boxers and the head is pressing gently at your lips.

feeling just the tip in your mouth, you already know your jaw is gonna hurt tomorrow. you relax your jaw and open wider, and tommy makes a slightly strangled noise that you take as a great sign.

as he fucks into your mouth, your eyes begin to water and tommy notices, brushing the tears away.

"you're takin' it so good," joel lavishes his praise on you and you never want it to end, "such a good girl, aren't you? keep that throat nice and open for my brother, won't ya? i know you wanna relax into it, baby, let him see just how much you love havin his dick down your throat."

it makes you moan, his words making you almost uncomfortably wet. tommy keeps thrusting down your throat, hips occasionally stuttering.

"shit, honey-" tommy says, and chuckles at your whine when he pulls his cock out of your mouth, "you're suckin' it so good, i need a break or i'm gonna come in that pretty mouth a whole lot sooner than i mean to."

joel drops your wrists and backs up to the sofa.

"why don'tcha sit on my lap, darlin'?" he grins, and pats on his inner thigh, his cock visibly straining in his jeans, a little damp patch visible where you're sure the tip is.

"only if you take your pants off," you say, and joel's eyebrows shoot up.

joel considers. "fine, but we're gonna work you up real nice before you get to sit on anyone's cock.

once you're sat on joel's lap, his cock straining against his boxers, tommy’s kissing you with such frenzied passion you feel dizzy. the sensation is only heightened when joel runs a knuckle down your spine, dragging over each vertebrae, massaging and tantalising. then both hands are grabbing at your waist and over your hips as if mapping you out. it’s not overtly hungry, not yet, but there’s a sensuality to it you didn’t quite remember from your brief and ill-fated encounters with joel years back. you're suddenly hit with a pang of sadness that you never stayed in touch. you would've liked to see him get his first grey hairs. instead it feels like you hit fast forward and jolted ahead.

joel's close behind you and you feel his hot breath on your neck as he pulls down the neckline of your top and licks a line along the hollow of your collarbone and back up to your ear, and the drag of his tongue is delicious. he nibbles on your earlobe and the sensation draws an obscene moan from your lips.

tommy’s close to you, too, his big hands cupping your jaw as he kisses his tongue deep into your mouth, running it along your teeth. his cock is still hanging out from his jeans, thick and hard, and you don't try to disguise the way you stare at it as you look him up and down.

"you've got far too many clothes on, sweetheart," tommy grins, and you pull off your top. before you can unhook your bra, joel's already unfastened it and is helping you pull it off.

tommy drops to his knees now, licking and sucking at your nipples, as joel unbuttons your pants, unzips them, and helps you lift your hips to yank them off of you.

the graze of tommy's teeth against the sensitive flesh of your breast makes you whimper and rut up on joel's thigh, and the brothers both laugh at your desperate noises.

"shit, she's needy, ain't she?" joel teases as he grips your waist with one hand and lets the other drag down to your panties, holding you in place while he starts to rub his fingers along your slit through the damp fabric.

he tugs at the band of your lace panties and ponders for a moment. "you partial to these?" he asks, and you shrug, "not particularly".

"good," joel says. that's all he needs to hear before he's tearing them apart and dropping the tattered fabric aside.

"well now you're just putting on a show," you tease, and he laughs but doesn't disagree. he just strokes a finger along your folds.

"i think you're a girl who likes a show," he tells you as he gathers up a little bit of your slick and slides it along your pussy. "now, what else do you like, darlin'? you want me to play with your lil clit? or just finger fuck you?"

"both," you whine, "any of it. all of it, please-"

he teases a finger into you very gently, just a little press that goes a little deeper each time he pulls it out and presses back in, till you realise he's sinking it in all the way to the hand with each thrust.

right as he adds another finger, to your surprise, tommy drops to his knees. he spreads your thighs wider and looks up for a moment, and you think you can feel joel nod behind you. that's all it takes, and tommy dives in. joel thrusts his fingers into you more urgently as laves kisses on and around your clit. he deepens it, pressing harder, flicking his tongue furiously along your swollen nerve endings and there's enough sensation that you know you won't last long.

"yes, that's it," you cry, and now it's your turn to grab tommy by the hair and press his face right where you need it the most. you're grinding up on his tongue while joel steadily continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, and you know you couldn't be quiet even if you tried.

"fuck," your words sound more like sobs now and you really don't give a shit, "keep going, just like that, joel you can go harder, tommy yes, lick my clit like that, i'm gonna- i'm gonna come-"

"good girl," joel talks you through it, "letting us take care of you like this. you need us to fuck you stupid, don'tcha? you're gonna leave here in the mornin' all stretched open, feeling us deep inside ya for days, huh?"

his filthy words are all you need to teeter over the edge- "fuuuck!" you scream, and you're positively panting now, verging on hysterical. you know joel can feel your pussy clench around him, you're so wet you're worried you've ruined joel's jeans, and you're so overstimulated that you can't speak more than a syllable or two at a time.

"oh you come so pretty," tommy says, pulling away from you to speak. you can see the way his lips are glistening with your slick before he kisses you on your inner thighs, peppering the soft skin with attention.

then, your eyes practically roll back in your head as he dives back in.

joel hasn't stopped fingering you, either, and once tommy's mouth is back on you, joel presses his fingers back into you more deeply again.

"shit, it's too much, i don't think i can take another this quick-" you try to say, but joel shushes you.

"i can already feel it coming," joel tells you, "can feel how your thighs are trembling, how you're already clenching down on me."

you're treading dangerously close to uncomfortably overstimulated, but you're also so completely turned on, you barely care. if you're gonna die in pursuit of a nut, so be it.

"fuck, you're right-" you tell joel, and tommy moans into you letting delicious vibrations pulse through you, and that sends you over the edge again.

you thrust and writhe and rut against them both, and tommy shows you mercy this time, drawing back and letting you get a little relief from the overwhelm of sensation instead of keeping his mouth on you.

you need a moment to catch your breath, and both joel and tommy rub soothing circles into your skin, joel's hands on your hips and tommy's on your thighs, and it feels exquisite.

"that's it, sweetheart, that's it-" joel soothes, and though your breathing's evened out, you know your thighs are still shaking.

tommy's licking up the arousal from between your thighs as if cleaning you off, and he looks up at you with almost dopey, half-lidded eyes, grinning.

"you taste like heaven, honey," he says, and he looks almost as fucked out as you feel. all this from eating pussy, you wonder, and that's another point in the favor of tommy miller being a man who likes to take care of fine things.

"i think i'm gettin' jealous now," joel teases, "i might need a taste, too."

without another word, tommy kisses you deeply and you taste yourself on his tongue. joel tilts your head back to meet him, and he kisses the taste from your mouth, groaning as he does it.

the sounds they're both making are so fucking hot, you love how they emote. there's nothing as unsexy as getting fucked by someone who stays absolutely silent throughout, and hearing them as pathetic as you feel works you up even more.

"what do you need, sweetheart," joel asks, and he's running a finger along your swollen folds now, teasing and torturous.

"you want us to fuck your pussy and your mouth," he asks, and moves to stroke a finger along your cheek, "you wanna have a big cock on either end of ya?"

you shake your head and joel raises his eyebrows.

"tell us what you want, baby," tommy says, and joel drags his fingers back along your pussy before tentatively using his forefinger to circle your asshole.

"please, joel-" you realise you're begging and it draws a laugh from tommy.

"you're a naughty girl, aren't you?" tommy asks, and the way he's grinning tells you that he wouldn't want it any other way.

"wanna feel full of you, both of you-" you whine.

"you gotta tell us, else we won't know what you want," joel says. from his tone of voice, it's clear he knows exactly what you want, but you need to beg for it.

"my pussy. and my ass. wanna ride both of you, feel both of you, get fucked by both of you-"

"jesus christ," tommy moans, "i bet we can make that happen, huh, big brother?"

you turn around to look at joel and his pupils are so blown, his eyes look black.

"bedroom." joel says, and it isn't a request.

tommy scoops you up in his arms and follows joel to his bedroom.

"drop her right here," joel says to tommy, and you're deposited on the edge of the bed, joel kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"looks so pretty for us," tommy says, and he sits down in an armchair near the foot of the bed and starts stroking his aching cock.

you'd been so fucked out already, you almost forgot you'd done almost nothing to take care of them. tommy's cock looks almost red and angry, and joel's is still tucked into his boxers, but the damp spot is spreading and it looks so thick through the fabric.

"let's get you ready for us, sweetheart," joel says, and without any more warning, he hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you up, legs spread, knees hanging over his shoulders. "i'm gonna eat this cute lil asshole, baby," he says and spits on your tight hole before rubbing his thumb gently against it, spreading the saliva.

he teases you with his tongue a little, testing it before pressing it flat and licking along it. you moan, and he growls against you.

you learn very quickly that joel miller is an ass man.

he eats ass like he was made for it, growling into you, spit dripping down his chest as he keeps your legs propped up on his shoulders, your thighs held in place with one arm. you're gasping through your moans and joel is drawing circles around your hole now, popping a finger into his mouth, and tentatively pressing it into the tight ring of muscle. it's fucking animalistic and you don't think anything could possibly make this better, until you notice the moans coming from tommy and the wet sounds of him furiously fisting his cock.

you're already fucked out from your first orgasms that you're practically boneless and limp, totally relaxed in a way you didn't often get. it made the feeling of joel fucking his fingers into you more glorious, building you up in a way you're not used to.

he makes quick (but thorough) work of opening you up, till he's got three fingers in your asshole and tommy's telling you how beautiful you look through his own choked moans, and you think you might lose your mind as you pant and grind and whine and joel isn't saying anything because his mouth is far too busy.

he pulls back and takes a good look at you. with someone else you might feel uncomfortably exposed but instead, you see hunger and desire in the brothers' and you know this is affecting them at least as much as it is you.

"i think we've got ya ready," joel hums, and he turns to look at his brother, "wanna check?" he asks, and tommy stands up and walks over.

you know you feel loose and ready, but the simple act of tommy popping a finger into your mouth to get it wet and then tracing it around your asshole, examining the preparation, drives you insane.

"i think she'll take it good for us," he grins and your heart flutters, "good girl," he says to you.

"you ready for us?" joel asks, and you nod.

"fuck me," you tell them.

joel lowers you down from his shoulders and tommy lays down on the bed before beckoning you.

"giddy up, cowgirl," he says with a wink, and you roll your eyes but take your cue.

you crawl up the bed, straddling his legs and then hovering over his cock which he's holding aloft.

"you good, baby?" he asks softly, and it's incredibly sweet in a way that makes you want to eat him up alive and also get fucked within an inch of your life by him.

"fuckin great," you tell him, and you pull him into a deep kiss before relaxing yourself over his cock, letting the head press into your pussy and sinking down onto it.

"jesus christ," he chokes out, and he sounds so desperate you can't help but fucking down on him, your ass slapping as you, move, his cock pressing so fucking deep into you and then you feel joel approach you from behind his hands gently running over your asscheeks and you know he's feeling the way your flesh bounces as you get off on his brother's cock. then, his hands are off of you, you hear the squirt of a lube bottle, and suddenly joel's thick lubed tip is pressing against you.

you try to thrust backwards towards it, but almost pull off tommy's cock fully, and it's like you're trying to ride both ends of a dick seesaw.

joel notices your frustration, laughing as you writhe.

"patience," he says, and delivers a sharp smack to your ass that thrusts you deeper onto tommy's cock. then, you can feel joel pressing into you, inch by inch.

once his cock head is fully sheathed in your tight ass, you take a moment to breathe before you start to find a rhythm that'll get all of you off at the same time. it takes a moment, and a few adjustments by all three of you, but before you know it, you can feel tommy brushing against your cervix and joel fully fucking into your asshole, practically rearranging your guts. with each rough thrust, they're fucking into you as one.

you're all moaning, gasping for breath. the slapping of skin against skin is delicious, and you're certain joel's balls are smacking against tommy's and you're not sure if it's weird or the hottest thing you've ever experienced.

you feel so full, you feel so fucking full it's perfect, it's delicious, you wanna be split open like this for the rest of time, want to feel two fat cocks using your holes for their pleasure, for your pleasure, because it all just feels so fucking good.

"fuck," tommy says, and it's the first thing any of you have been able to vocalise for a minute, "i'm gonna-"

"come in me," you tell him, cutting him off and he shudders.

that's all he needed before it hits him and he lets out a deep groan and unloads deep into you. it sets off a chain reaction. you come next, clenching around tommy's cock and exploding with a sob, your entire body shaking uncontrollably, and that tips joel over the edge, too as you whine at him, "come in my ass, joel-" and then he makes a strangled noise and you feel his balls tighten and hips stutter and he's unloading in you, pulse after pulse of thick come.

you lay there, tommy beneath you and joel on top of you, their cocks still twitching inside of you. gently, you tap joel's hip and he grunts and rolls over, pulling out of you. you gingerly pull yourself off of tommy, and then immediately collapse between the two of them.

"well, shit," you say, so totally blissed out you're floating on a whole other level.

"jesus christ," tommy says, and then joel starts laughing and it's the best thing you've ever heard.

"you doin' alright, darlin?" joel asks, "we take good care o' ya?"

you nod, consumed with so much euphoria you can't use your words properly.

"good- good joel," you say, "good tommy," you pat them each on the thighs and joel snorts.

tommy pops off the bed for a moment and rummages around in the other room before coming back to ask, "need a hit?"

you nod and he places the joint between your lips and sparks it. you take a deep inhale and slow blink as you sit yourself up and look at both of them.

"let's clean ya up, darlin," joel says, and, as it turns out, tommy brought a washcloth as well as weed. and he had my priorities straight you think.

"if you want me out of your house," you tell them, "you'd better tell me now so i can call a cab. otherwise, i'm gonna pass out here in the next twelve seconds."

"i won't be here in the morning", joel tells you, "got an early shift, but as i recall, tommy's specialty is box pancakes and they sometimes turn out edible."

tommy playfully slaps at his brother, and then kisses your cheek. joel kisses your cheek, too. tommy cleans you up a little, and you fall contentedly asleep between these two beautiful men.

the last thing you think before you drift off is fuck that promotion, it's not such a bad day after all.

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy x joel x reader #tlou fic #tommy miller smut #joel miller smut

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sushiwriterhere · 11 months

Text

new rules

summary: "Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone. Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him." rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 8.5k (this got away from me sorry y'all) warnings: angst (lack of communication!), idiots pining, PiV (unprotected), oral (f receiving), hangman x phoenix (blink and u will miss it), no use of y/n. notes: thank you to @waklman for letting me bounce ideas off you! im very nervous abt this one, i feel like its dif from my other stuff so pls pls let me know what u think! my other works are here

Friends with benefits is maybe an inaccurate way to describe what’s going on between you and Bradley. Friends? Sure, since he asked you if you were using that bench at the beach and then he’d introduced himself. With benefits? You’re not sure if they really could be classified that way.

Bradley’s almost always a perfect gentleman.

He doesn’t ignore you in the daylight, but the two of you never talk about the way he finds himself in your bed most nights rather than not, drunk or sober.

It had started one night when you’d turned down an invitation to go to the Hard Deck, instead choosing to do a night of self care. You’d spent too long doing your eyebrows and managed to get a sheet mask to fully cover your face for once. You lost count of how much time you spent in the shower as an indulgence, and threw on the comfiest clothing you owned. Then, you sat yourself down in front of your TV to numb your mind with some perfectly trashy reality television.

Around 11:30, your phone had rang. Picking it up and squinting at the brightness, you saw Bradley’s face grinning back at you, the picture from one of your many beach days since you’d met.

Despite your best instincts you’d picked up. What if he was stranded? What if something had happened? You’d steeled yourself for the worst.

Instead, Bradley had just opened with a simple, “Hey.”

“Bradley? Is everything okay?” You could hear the noise of the Hard Deck in the background, but it had been yelling and there weren’t any sirens.

“Yeah,” His sigh had come over extra loud through the speakers, “Just uh, was just thinking about you.”

“Okay,” What the hell? You remember mouthing the words to yourself as someone on screen had thrown a drink in someone else’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He hadn’t responded to your question, instead he’d just said, “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Bradley is everything–”

“I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he’d hung up with a definitive click.

You’d stared at the dimming screen of your phone for probably almost five minutes. Surely he couldn’t have been that drunk–god, was he planning on driving? Calling him during that was probably a bad idea.

Great, leave it to Bradley to stress you the fuck out on a Friday evening when you’d been aiming for peace. You’d tried to refocus on your show, but you weren’t even paying attention to the words.

No more than five minutes later, there had been a knock at your door. You’d stood slowly, not sure that this was actually happening.

You’d opened the door to a Bradley with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eye, leaning against the railing outside your apartment. It was only after a moment of silence that you realized you were wearing an old Navy shirt of his, loaned to you at the beach a few weeks ago. You could feel the way his eyes started at your legs and dragged up your frame, taking everything in.

“Bradley?”

He’d pushed off the railing and backed you into your apartment, letting the door swing shut behind the two of you. You’d backed into the living room til your back hit a wall, your heart in your throat. You couldn’t look away from him, not with the way he’d been crowding into your space, leaning into you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice was a tone he’d never used on you before, and you remember the way your heart had hammered in your chest.

He’d been so warm and so close, setting all of your nerve endings on fire. It wasn’t that you hadn’t realized that Bradley was attractive–the man’s whole job was to stay in shape and be clean cut. He was beautiful. But you’d kept that to yourself, afraid of crossing that line, afraid that you’d ruin something that was turning out to be one of the strongest friendships you’d had in years.

You still feel that fear, despite all the lines that have been crossed since that moment.

The way he’d kissed you had wiped every thought from your head. His hands had slid up your thighs to grip at your waist under his shirt hanging loosely on you. His mouth had moved smoothly against yours, making you sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

By the time the two of you had made your way into your bedroom, he’d lost every piece of clothing but his briefs and his dog tags. They’d dug into your sternum as you’d pressed yourself against him, the cool metal warming quickly between the two of you.

The way your blood had been rushing in your ears from adrenaline had drowned out the way he’d murmured to himself as he’d kissed down your body. He never did pull his shirt off you. He’d simply maintained his grip on your hips, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he’d pulled your panties down and licked desperately into you.

Your hands had gone to his hair out of reflex. He had been rocking you steadily and you think you’ll always remember how you felt when you’d realized it was because he was grinding his hips against the bedframe, so turned on from getting his mouth on you.

He’d eaten you out like a man starved, his nose bumping into your clit as his tongue fucked you. It had been messy and loud but you hadn’t cared about the neighbors or your dignity, not with the way his fingers had finally curled into you.

“Bradley,” You’d gasped when you finally came, back arching and fingers tightening in his hair to the point where your knuckles ached.

He’d held you through it, had let you rock your hips against his face and not complained at all. In fact, he’d seemed delighted by the way you’d let yourself just feel, pleasure wracking your body and consuming your mind in a haze.

Kissing his way up your body, he’d slid his hands under the shirt and groped you gently. You remember the way your mind had stayed cloudy and you’d floated, tethered only to the real world by the way his thumbs flicked gently at your nipples.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He’d panted into your mouth as you whined when he’d sat back slightly to kick off his briefs and hitch your thighs over his waist, “I’ve got you.”

The first time Bradley had ever slid his cock into you, you knew you’d never be the same, that you’d never be able to go back. Not when he’d kept himself hovering over you just barely, propped up on his elbow, with his lips still brushing yours and his dog tags catching in the sheen of sweat along your sternum. Not when he rocked into you inch by inch, making the world around you blur into nothingness.

You’d let yourself fall apart under him, let yourself sink into the mattress and just take whatever he was willing to give you. He’d fucked you deeper and more gently than anyone before–to this day, you’re not even sure you can classify it as ‘fucking’, that always felt too vulgar for the way he’d brushed his lips over your cheekbones and murmured sweet nothings.

But saying Bradley had, and still does, made love to you means trying to find something from nothing, means discerning some sort of level of connection he’s never made clear. You’re not trying to break your own heart more than you already are.

In spite of that, you can’t forget the way he’d held you like you were precious, like you were everything to him. He’d cum inside you with a guttural moan, a punched out gasp at the way you’d clenched around him. It had made you realize that was all you’d ever wanted, Bradley warm around you and inside you, him making you feel complete in a way you hadn’t known you weren’t whole before.

He’d been a perfect gentleman when you’d both come down, easing out of you so he could clean up. He’d massaged your thighs and hips where you were sure you would’ve been aching the next morning if he hadn’t, had apologized under his breath at the fingerprints now dotying your hips. He’d thumbed at the collar of the Navy shirt where it had stayed on your frame the entire time, looking pensive but never saying anything.

You’d woken up alone the next morning, a sticky note on the bedside table reading–Had to run for work. Thanks for having me over. A messy heart and a hastily scrawled Bradley closing off the message.

And so it went. So it goes.

During the day, you and Bradley are the paragon of good friendship–he’ll send you memes when he gets access to his phone in between flights and lessons, you’ll pick him up after work to go to the beach. The two of you don’t talk about it–because what is there to talk about?

No words are ever exchanged about the way that Bradley clears out a drawer for you at his place, you just find a few of the things you’d left at his place in there one day. You never give back his Navy shirt, not when you find yourself wearing it more often than not. Nothing is said about how you start picking up his favorite flavors of ice cream and his preferred brand of coffee creamer, you just make a habit of throwing them into your cart when you go to the store.

And everything is fine. It really is. You disregard the side glances from Phoenix and Bob as they see you leave with Bradley on Friday and Saturday nights, you ignore the way Hangman wiggles his eyebrows at you when Bradley insists on paying for your drinks. Just friends, is all. Just friends.

They can make their assumptions, whisper while you’re out of ear shot, but they don’t see the quiet, comfortable domesticity that you and Bradley engage in when the two of you are alone. You go back to his after beach afternoons since it’s closer to your favorite spot, and the two of you will shower (separately) and make dinner together. Sometimes you’ll sleep over if you’re working remote the next day, sometimes you’ll go home.

On weekends, Bradley picks you up in the morning, trunk holding a cooler full of drinks and snacks, and you two will go to the beach again or go on a hike. Sometimes Phoenix or Bob or the whole crew will come along, sometimes they won’t.

Just friends. And it’s fine.

Until everything isn’t fine.

Bradley and you have been at this for a few months now, and you can feel yourself cracking. You’re reaching out to kiss him when you do wake up together, before your brain is awake enough to stop you, reminding you that that’s not what you two do. On an outing to a boardwalk teeming with life and populated by those games you can win stuffed animals at, you resist the urge to press him against the railing of the pier and lick the taste of your shared gelato cone out of his mouth.

When the dam finally breaks, it begins like any other night. You have a margarita and a half in you, some concoction that Phoenix insisted you try that’s actually good. Bradley’s already done a rendition of My Way at Penny’s request, but for now the jukebox is blaring some 80s hit Hangman picked out.

You can feel yourself swaying to the beat, just letting the warmth of the moment sink in as you’re surrounded by your friends, the people you love.

“Hi,” Bradley breathes into your ear as he sidles up next to you, his arms coming to settle around your waist. You can feel his warmth through the flimsy fabric of the dress you’ve got on.

“Hi Brad,” He hates it when people call him that–lets you get away with it though. “What’cha doin’?”

“Waitin’ for you.” He leans his entire body weight against you, making you slump against the table you’re standing next to.

“Ah! Bradley, stop it.” You try to stand, but the way he’s laughing makes it hard to shake yourself from his grip, “What do you mean you’re waiting for me? I’m waiting for you.”

The grin he shoots you is electric, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, right here in the middle of the Hard Deck, with all your friends around and in Penny and Mav’s line of sight. That thought makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come home with me?” He whispers, just barely letting his voice rise above the background noise, and when you don’t respond immediately, “Or let me take you home?”

That’s all it takes, really, for you to agree. The way he’s so willing, so malleable, for you. You’re leading him out by the hand without responding to his questions, making your way to the Bronco that’s parked in the back corner of the lot.

Bradley keeps the foolish grin on his face the entire time he drives back to your apartment. The warmth radiating from him doesn’t abate when he licks into your mouth once the two of you are inside. One of his palms rests against your heart, the other working its way up your thigh and inside your panties that are already damp.

“You’re so good to me,” He murmurs, dipping his fingers below your waistband and brushing through your curls, feeling just how slick you are.

All you can do is whine as he picks you up and makes his way to your bedroom. For once, he doesn’t trip or stub his toe on anything, and it somehow heightens the intensity. Normally, you and Bradley seek comedic relief of some sort, something to cut the tension and keep it from making your chest tighten in a way that feels like a warning. This time, you aren’t granted any such reprieve.

He undresses you slowly and deliberately, letting his fingertips drag lightly up your sides and over your shoulders. He shrugs his Hawaiian shirt off easily, and lets you yank his wife beater over his head without complaint.

Then, the two of you are just staring at each other, both panting lightly. You’re propped up on your elbows, staring up at him only in your panties. Bradley’s got one hand about to pop the button of his jeans, but he’s frozen. You feel like you can’t move but also like something might be changing.

You don’t want it to change, you don’t want to lose Bradley in more ways than one. If this is what he’s willing to give you, you don’t want this to change.

He nearly falls over when his foot gets stuck in his jeans, and even that doesn’t break the tension. Once he’s climbing over you, enveloping you, kissing up your stomach and neck, you forget all about decorum and keeping up appearances.

The whine that echoes around the room is pathetic and high pitched, but it’s the only way you think to communicate to Bradley how bad you need him in that moment. His hips are rocking gently against yours and you want the layers gone, you need to feel him.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” And his hands are around your hips, dragging your underwear off you unceremoniously.

Although he makes a good attempt at going down on you, you don’t let him. You dig your fingers into his shoulder and yank at his hair to keep his face level with yours and kiss him desperately.

“I want to eat you out, please?” The depth of his voice sends a shiver through you.

Normally he wouldn’t even have to ask, but you don’t want that right now. You just want to feel him inside you.

“Need you in me, please,” You take a heaving breath before the pleading spills out of you, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

He shushes you as you scrunch your face up, not knowing how else to convey your desires in that moment, “Okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

You almost wail in protest when his fingers slide into you. You can’t figure out why you feel like you’re burning up from the inside out, why you feel so fucking needy.

“Sweetheart you gotta let me prep you somehow, just–”

You feel like the embarrassment might kill you when you keen at the feeling of his fingers inside you. The way you’re trying to be good, you really are, because he does have a point. Plus, you have to be fair to Bradley, this isn’t just about you.

So you hold still, let him work his fingers in and out of you as you pant and clutch at his shoulders like a lifeline. His mouth presses against yours, works its way over your cheeks and down your throat. He sucks a mark gently into your collarbone, and you ignore the way your brain reminds you about having to cover that up for work.

He doesn’t shut up the entire time, just keeps telling you how good you’re doing for him, how good you feel, how he’s been thinking about this all night. The world seems to go right-side up again when he pushes into you.

You whimper at the way he rocks his hips ever so gently before pulling out. He kisses you again and again, only letting his lips leave yours so he can kiss your forehead or cheeks. The motion of his hips is a steady tempo, he keeps time with your breaths that turn into moans when you start feeling that telltale coil in your stomach.

He runs his tongue along your teeth and you’re done for. You clench down on him and dig your nails into his skin, bucking your hips up as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave.

Bradley fucks you through it like every other time, yes, but this time there’s something about the way he stutters out a moan and his hips match the faltering rhythm as he finishes right after you. The shallow rocking of his hips continues and you try to ignore the prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes.

Something tells you that this time, you shouldn’t have let Bradley take you home. When he pulls his face back from yours and he rolls the two of you onto your sides without pulling out, he’s got this look on his face that screams unspoken words. He cups your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb without saying anything.

The two of you are quiet as he cleans you up, as you dress yourself in another one of his shirts.

When you wake up the next morning, Bradley isn’t there. It doesn’t shock you necessarily, sometimes he stays, sometimes he has to leave to be on time for work.

What does send a terrible feeling trickling down your throat and into your stomach is the post-it, all four square inches covered in sloppy hearts. Bradley had signed his name in the bottom left corner, characteristic chicken scratch labeling it as him even if the name wasn’t enough.

This has to end.

Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone.

You last about three rings before you cave in, waiting for the sound of his voice to echo around the apartment. You’re holding your breath.

“I knocked.” Is all he says before you’re on your feet, making your way to the door.

There he is, and although you know he isn’t really drunk, you know he’s got a beer or two in him from the way he doesn’t try to hide how he looks at you. You hate the way you’re weak for him.

You’ve been caving to him more than once a week since that first night, since Bradley had knocked your world off kilter. Though you’re in bed together almost every night, whether at his place or yours, you don’t have sex nearly every time. Part of you thinks that might make it worse. It really had been fine at first, but the first morning you’d cried at the sight of that sticky note covered in hearts, you’d known you had to try and put an end to this.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” He tries, a crooked grin splitting his face as he walks toward you, but you know he doesn’t mean his words at all.

“Bradshaw, have you been drinking?” You want to not want this, want to not want the way his gaze pins you down, the way the length of his body against yours just feel so right.

Let him being drunk and you being sober be the excuse, you beg silently. You can’t manage to force out that maybe he should go home, sleep this off in his own bed. You can’t find it in yourself to tell him to leave, to reject his advances. Watching as if outside your own body, he shuts the door behind him and walks up to you.

Your chest aches with unconfessed feelings when he takes your face in his hands and lets his forehead rest against yours. His lips are soft and warm against yours, his mustache tickling you lightly when it brushes against your face. The whine you let out matches his soft groan, and the two of you stand there making out for a few minutes, almost as if you’re both content to just drink each other in without further motives.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, I’ve got you,” And he’s picking you up.

You yelp at the way you’re suddenly lifted from the ground and you bury your face in his neck. You hate heights, your feet off the ground anything more than a few inches sends you spiraling in short order. But it’s Bradley who’s holding you, and some part of you knows he’d never let you fall, never let you crash into the ground.

The way you two fall into your bed is too natural, it makes your stomach churn. His fingers find their place on your hips, around your thighs. It’s all too easy. You wish it would be a bit more awkward, that the chemistry could be imagined or false–instead you’re confronted by the way your bodies flow with one another’s all too easily.

Again, somehow, you’re in nothing but his Navy shirt.

Maybe I should give it back, the thought flits through your mind and you feel guilty immediately. Bradley always seems to take a special sort of pleasure from fucking you in his shirt, and you selfishly want to keep that bargaining chip, to have something that tethers him to you. If he won’t come back to press you into your sheets, then maybe he’ll come back one last time to get his shirt when this inevitably unravels.

“Sweetheart,” He groans softly when his fingers reach the way you’re embarrassingly wet between your legs.

It takes everything in you not to jerk back from his touch–you still don’t know how to confront the way you’re so responsive to his touch. His mere presence.

“I missed you.”

It slips out before you can stop yourself, your lips part and you breathe the words before you can do anything about it. He chooses that exact moment to dip a fingertip into your fluttering, but empty, hole, and you arch your back and moan. Instead of responding, he kisses you hungrily, all pretense gone.

This isn’t something entirely tender, not anymore. He’s searching for something, a certain reaction, with the way he adds and then curls his fingers inside of you. He finds it when you jerk underneath him at the way he pets at that spot inside you you can never seem to reach on your own.

He mumbles against your lips, “There you go,” As you squirm under him, the press of his fingers inside you relentless.

He works his fingers in and out of you, not taking anything in return. It’s all you can do to hold on to him and whine pitifully. Every sensation feels amplified, feels electric because it’s him.

The two of you settle into a familiar rhythm for as long as it takes for Bradley to make you cum the first time. You’re rocking against him through the aftershocks and you can feel the way he’s hard against you through his clothes.

He’s still dressed. The realization sends a bolt of shame through you, but it doesn’t linger long.

He’s shoving his jeans down his legs, not bothering with wiping his hand clean and you shiver at the thought that he’ll have to put them on again, you streaked across them. He makes quick work of his boxers too, and it occurs to you that he must’ve lost his shirt somewhere along the way when he presses his bare chest against your still clothed one.

“Bradley, Bradley,” You chant, “Take off my shirt.”

It’s the most demanding you’ve probably ever been with him, but he laughs at you anyways. There’s a glint in his eye as he sits up, his hard cock bobbing between his thighs. The sight of his naked form between your spread legs makes you swallow hard and your mouth water.

“I like you in my shirt.” There’s something unsaid there, something about claims and ownership that isn’t truly possession, but a reminder of who belongs to whom regardless.

You pull it off your head in protest, and grab his wrist to drag him back down to you. You let yourself indulge in trailing a hand down the firm planes of his body down to where he’s smearing precum against your thigh. He’s heavy and pulsing in your hand and a light hiss rushes through his clenched teeth when you grip him tightly and twist with your wrist.

“Fuck, fuck, not gonna last if you–” Bradley cuts himself off with a groan as you swipe your thumb over his head.

It’s your turn to laugh, “You just got here.”

“Well, have you ever had sex with yourself? It’s tough out here–give a guy a break.”

The both of you dissolve into giggles at that, as you try to imagine how you would look sprawled under yourself. You can’t picture it, but the image of Bradley under or over you makes you think you might understand.

He lines his hips up with yours once you’re both done making fools of yourself at the thought of you having sex with yourself (it reminds you of a drunk hypothetical you’d spent thirty minutes on with Hangman once–would you have sex with a clone of yourself?).

The first push of him inside you cuts through the lighthearted mood immediately. It always shocks you how perfectly he fits inside you despite his size, how incredibly full you feel when his hips meet yours. The gentle friction of the neat curls at the base of his cock against your clit always provides a stimulation that makes your brain go fuzzy.

The snap of his hips against yours is more intense this time, a sort of rhythm that makes you briefly think about the way the headboard might start knocking against the wall. But all thoughts, really, fly out of your head when Bradley brings a hand up to your nipples, the steady stroke of his fingers over the swell of your breasts as practiced and knowing as everything else he’s doing to you.

All you can do is run your hands down his back, scratch your nails against his skin ever so often when he brushes against something so sweet and perfect inside you. You clench around him just to see the reaction it’ll get, and you’re rewarded with a broken groan.

“You’re not fighting fair,” He gasps, and he hitches one of your thighs up so he can press more insistently into you.

You have a clever comeback somewhere in you–something about how you weren’t aware that the two of you were fighting, but it’s swallowed as he presses his lips into yours again. He seems absolutely intent on showing you exactly how you make him feel because the sensations of pleasure become overwhelming.

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel perfect, god you’re so wet for me,” He’s rambling mindlessly, but you let it happen, clinging to any expression of emotion, any sliver of dedication in his tone that you can hold on to til the next time you find yourself in this position.

You know he’s close when his grip on your thigh tightens forcefully and the strokes go from long and deep to slightly shorter and stunted. He’s grunting and gasping, but it’s all the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“Come for me Bradley, I want to feel you,” And at that, he follows your orders, listens to you for once in his life.

Everything is hazy as he keeps himself hovering over you and continues to rock his hips. You start to try and tell him he can pull out before his fingers find your clit and he dives back in to kiss you passionately.

Bradley is a perfectionist at heart, an overachiever. You suppose it isn’t entirely ridiculous that that extends to his performance in the bedroom–he’s insistent you finish every time, and always more than him. Feeling the way he’s still warm and heavy inside you, his lips firm against yours, brings you over the edge more quickly than you’d like to admit.

Still, you heave a shuddering gasp and let the pleasure wash over you. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, but he’s there through all of it til you feel yourself come back into your own body.

You think he might be writing something on your skin, the way his finger loops and dips softly over your hip bone as he kisses you gently. He’s softening inside you and you can feel the mess the two of you made under your hips, except he isn’t moving, not yet at least, to rectify that situation.

For once, you don’t push him to go clean up or scold him for another set of ruined sheets, you just let yourself bask in the moment as you imagine a world where the two of you will talk about this in the morning. You think of a timeline where this is where you end up because it’s where you’re meant to be, not because it’s something you’re choosing despite how it hurts you every time. You think of a place where Bradley is yours and you are his, wholly and completely.

Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?” You breathe into his mouth.

Bradley just hums in response, brushing his lips over yours, down your jawline and your throat. His breath comes in warm puffs over your collarbones before he pulls back.

Hands pinned above your head, you squirm under his gaze. There’s something so intense about the way he’s looking at you, but you can’t bring yourself to squeeze your eyes shut to avoid it. Both of you lost your clothes somewhere on your way to the bedroom, and you’re thinking about how to persuade him to be the one to pick it all up when this is inevitably over.

He smells like expensive cologne, and he’s got some product in his hair that made it difficult for you to brush your hands through it earlier. Plus, Phoenix had been dropping unsubtle hints earlier in the week (Hangman had affectionately called her out, a little sigh following— “You’re being such a shit stirrer.”)

“Bradley,” You try again, this time with a slight whine.

Did he seriously ditch some girl that’s probably been waiting on their date all week for this?

He responds by whispering your name back to you, the same tone undercutting the way he says it, “That doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

The urge to keep complaining rises in you but he preempts your worries by licking into your mouth when you open it.

He presses you into the mattress, weighing you down as he kisses you languidly, as if he’s trying to taste every part of you, as if he’s trying to memorize the sounds that escape you when he does. The warmth of his body makes your mind fog, and for the time being, everything else but this goes quiet.

Distantly, you know that in the morning, he’ll have to leave. At the very least, he’ll have to go back to his to grab his stuff for the beach, a change of clothes. It isn’t kicking him out, but watching him leave again and again has started to build this pit at the bottom of your stomach.

It would be different, you think, if the two of you were together. Because then, him leaving wouldn’t mean much where there would be an implicit promise and understanding that he was going to come back. Every time he closed the door behind him, you swallowed the fear that that would be your final memory of him.

You’re selfish though. And you want to focus on the feeling of his touch instead of thinking about how you may never get to have this again.

He makes it easy. Bradley pulls his shirt off and his dog tags make a gentle clinking sound as they hit each other and then finally come to rest on his chest. He looks like a god, backlit by the setting sun coming through your windows.

This is how you want to remember him. Smiling down at you as he dives back in to kiss you breathless, twitching when you skim your fingertips up his sides because he’s ticklish.

He makes short work of your shirt and sleep shorts, then his jeans are discarded. He stops briefly when his fingers reach the waistband of your underwear, a silent question that you answer by lifting your hips and letting him pull them off you.

Every time he’s between your legs, he has this reverent look on his face, and it makes your chest twist at the fact that this time is no different. He holds your thighs open gently but firmly, and he presses his face into your pussy. Then, his tongue is darting out and licking up your core, flat and wide.

You’d asked him once, if he likes going down on you. With a gleam in his eye, Bradley had said it was second only to being inside of you. You think of that as he eats you out enthusiastically, as you bury your hands in his hair and pull.

He slides his tongue in and out of you, curls it around your clit and sucks in a way that makes your back arch and your thighs clenched around his head. Then, he’s slipping a finger inside and fucking you slowly with it. It makes you shiver as you realize how close you are.

“Sweetheart, fuck, you taste incredible,” He murmurs, more to himself than anything else, pulling back briefly to make eye contact and you feel the way your breath quickens at the intensity of his gaze.

It only takes a few more minutes of him licking into you, tonguing at your clit, and adding another finger before you feel that familiar swooping in your stomach, before you’re choking out his name. Your back arches so much it aches, but it’s all you can do as the pleasure is all consuming. Bradley works you through it like every other time, holding you and letting you take what you need from him.

Then, he’s on you in an instant, kissing you furiously and sliding his hardness up and down you, covering himself in your slick. It’s filthy and sloppy but neither of you seem to mind. He lets himself rut against you til you’re hooking your legs around him and digging one of your heels into his back.

“Alright, alright,” He’s trying to sound nonchalant, but you know he’s more affected than his light tone lets on.

The first push into you is always the most intense, but you suck in a deep breath that you force out through your teeth.

“I know, I know,” He croons, pressing little kisses all over your face as you adjust to him.

Bradley inches into you slowly, inch by inch. The initial stretch subsides til it’s replaced by the sweetest feeling of fullness, the way you can feel all of him.

If there’s one thing the Navy’s good for, it’s the sheer strength Bradley possesses and has to maintain. You feel it in the way he fucks you, his back muscles rippling as you hold on for dear life. You feel it in the way his hips press into yours, shunting you slightly up the mattress.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are his hips meeting yours and the slick between the two of you. Momentarily, he pulls away from kissing you to look down to where he’s disappearing inside of you, that ring of you collecting at the base of his cock. His groan is guttural and broken.

“Fuck, Bradley, it feels so good.”

He leans down again to kiss you sloppily, and the simple action of him burying a hand in your hair and twisting his wrist makes your heart skip a beat. He always knows exactly what you need when you need it.

“C’mon, come for me, sweetheart, let me feel you.”

And because you’ve never been able to deny him anything, there you are, hurtling over the edge again. He’s everywhere around you, inside you, and his tongue in your mouth is the last thing you need to feel that wave crest inside of you. Bradley’s moan is deep as he feels you bare down on him and he follows you shortly after.

The moments after, when the glow is still settling and your mind is still hazy, are your favorite. Your mind is too foggy to focus on the fact that you know he’ll be leaving, but present enough to feel the way he doesn’t stop pressing kisses to your lips. You’re cognizant of how he cleans you up tenderly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thighs and hips just to watch it dimple.

In those precious few minutes, that’s all that exists to you.

Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him.

You’re trying to ignore him, you really are. You start going to the beach an hour earlier than you usually do, hoping that he’s maintaining his schedule. Every tall brunette jogging across the sand sends your heart into overdrive.

You still see Bradley when you go to the Hard Deck for a drink, but you keep a respectable distance between the two of you. If Phoenix mentions a round of pool, you jump at the chance, while asking Bob and Payback if they’d like to be the opposing team. You ignore the way your heart jumps into your throat when you can feel his eyes on you.

Every note of Great Big Balls of Fire feels like a stab in the chest, and you hold back tears of frustration when you see some girl wrap her arms around his neck and rock along with him as he belts out the lyrics. You’re a fool.

You’ve been ignoring his calls about Saturday morning beach runs and the memes he sends during the day go unanswered except for the little reactions iPhones let you send. You suppose it��s only fair that he gets to ignore you a little bit too.

Your little charade doesn’t last long, not truly in the grand scheme of things. Bradley doesn’t put up with you skirting his advances for long–he knows what he wants and he’ll be relentless til he gets it. And right now, he’s trying to corner you.

And you’re weak for him. You should’ve known from the start that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You can’t even now, even when you’re only getting him in pieces.

It’s not exactly your bravest moment to be hiding slightly behind Phoenix so he can’t see you (if you can’t see him, he can’t see you, right?) while she stares at you with an endlessly amused expression in her eyes. She doesn’t move to expose you, though.

“What’cha doin’?” Her tone is light, but you can tell she means business.

The two of you are friends yes, but she’s known Bradley for a million times longer. There’s some girl-girl solidarity, but if you were in her shoes, you might have a few bones to pick about potentially throwing Bradley to the wolves on this one. You wonder for a moment if he’s been talking to her about all this, but again, is there even anything to talk about?

“Just uh, trying to see where Hangman’s at?” You sound like you’re asking her a question, and she quirks an eyebrow.

She stretches the syllables of her next word out, letting it hang in the air, “Right. Even I don’t look at Hangman with that sort of intensity.”

That’s not entirely true, but you don’t really feel like getting into a competition with Phoenix of all people, over who’s looking at whom how.

“Sweetheart? Can we talk?”

You’d let Phoenix distract you for just a split second, and there he is, in all his glory. Bradley is beautiful, yes, but he looks tired. His sunny’s are hanging haphazardly from a floral button down that looks like it’s maybe seen better days, and he’s got dark circles marring the perfect tone of his tanned skin.

This time, Phoenix just side-steps you and lets Bradley into your space.

His presence is just as affecting there, in the middle of the Hard Deck, as it was the first time you saw him on the beach. Even with how tired he looks, he’s still glowing just slightly in the evening sun.

“Hi, Bradley,” You breathe, not daring to speak louder, as if that would make the moment real.

You can feel Phoenix’s eyes on you, the way that Bob and Payback are starting to let their attention drift to from the game of pool. This, you don’t want anyone else to be witness to. This is something between just the two of you. You don’t really need the whole world to witness your imminent heartbreak.

“I don’t want to do this here, is my place okay?” He looks so nervous, as if you’re going to push him away. It’s funny really, what you know is about to happen, and yet he still looks like this is about to break him entirely.

Nodding, you let him lead you out of the bar. It feels like deja vu, how however many weeks ago you were tracing these exact steps but making your way towards a very different fate.

The two of you are silent in the Bronco, and Bradley doesn’t bother turning the radio up to belt along to the 80s classic on the radio. Everything feels like you’re underwater, like the world is out of focus. You think you might start crying, but you try and swallow it down, be an adult.

Pulling into the driveway, it’s silent in the car when he turns the engine off. Neither of you go to get out, but you know you can’t sit here forever. This had to happen at some point, had to come to a close. That doesn’t make getting out of the car and waiting for Bradley to unlock the door any easier, though.

You toe off your shoes and let him get you a glass of water. Then, you’re standing on opposite sides of his kitchen, the pristine shine of the countertops and appliances making him feel a thousand miles away. You two are usually tumbling in, mouths locked together, or walking in with groceries, prepared to spend a comfortable evening cooking and watching a movie. This is everything coming apart at the seams.

“Bradley,” You start, not really knowing where you’re going, but just wanting to break the silence.

He looks distraught and your stomach drops with guilt.

This is your fault.

He says your name once as he settles back against a countertop, and it hangs in the air between the two of you, til he starts speaking again, “I’ve been trying to figure out where I went wrong, what lines I crossed, and I guess at some point I realized it was all of them. I shouldn't have pushed you, I shouldn’t have–”

“I thought that that was all I could have of you, so I was selfish and I took it.” You say, the words tumbling out of you before you can stop yourself from interrupting him, but still unable to tear your eyes away from him, “But I was hurting you. I still am, and god, Bradley, I’ll make it up to you somehow, I’m so sorry.”

It’s almost funny, really, the way you’ll look back on this moment a year from now and laugh at the way the two of you are talking past each other, unwilling to acknowledge that your deepest desires could be attainable. But for now, all you can feel is the guilt in your veins, your heartbeat pounding your chest.

“What?” He’d looked at the floor for a moment, but when you finish speaking he’s looking at you intently. “What did you say?”

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and start from the beginning, “I thought that you coming to me, like that, was the only way I could have you. And, and maybe it was me taking advantage because you were sometimes not super sober, but I would never–”

“I was always sober. Every time. I would never do that to you. What do you mean that was the only way you thought you could have me?” Bradley’s standing fully now, not leaning.

“I thought you drank before, to, y’know, make it tolerable.” You regret the words as soon as you say them, “Sorry, that’s–you’re not that kind of person.”

He smiles ruefully, “I’m still focused on the part about that being the only way you could have me.”

Here it is.

“I love you, Bradley. And not just as a friend, but more. But I didn’t want to push that on you, and so I thought–”

“You love me?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Then, he’s laughing in that hysterical way when people are so overcome, the only way it’ll escape them is if they double over in giggles. But he’s trying to compose himself as quickly as he started.

“I tried to tell you so many times how I felt, I left you all those post-it notes, god, I thought you were seeing them and just didn’t feel the same.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“The hearts. That’s how I,” He heaves a shuddering breath, his voice thick with unshed tears, “That’s how I told my parents I loved them before I could really write. I was saying it to you every time I left.”

“You love me?” You’re crying now, and he squeezes his eyes shut til tears run down his cheeks too.

His laugh is bitter but you know that’s not directed at you, “Was the sticky note covered in hearts not clear enough?”

You feel the way your cheeks warm and your stomach churns as you try and defend yourself, “You were thanking me for letting you sleep over?”

At that, he laughs, genuine this time, breaking the sadness that has been building in the air. Finally, he makes his way across the room to you and crowds into your space, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes are closed.

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, a plea, and a prayer all in one. “I meant every heart, every I love you, from the very first one I left.”

“I kept them all. In my bedside table.”

Then his lips are on yours. The kiss is salty, reminding you of all the emotion that’s been building for the past few months, every moment you didn’t confess, every moment you assumed the worst, it’s all there. But you don’t want to dwell on that now, now that you’ve heard him say something plucked from your wildest dreams.

“Say it again,” You whisper when his lips leave yours ever so briefly as the two of you are stumbling to the bedroom.

And he does. As he’s undressing you, he says it. He mumbles it against your lips and into your mouth.

He says it against your bare skin as he presses you into his bed, the sheets smelling like him before he puts on cologne. It’s muffled momentarily by the way he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, but you feel the way his jaw works anyways as you cup his face. You let your legs fall open around him and feel the way he slides his fingers into you.

When he’s pressing into you, he’s saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

In those moments between start and finish, when the world falls away and all you know is the warmth of his body against yours, the slight slick of sweat on your skin, that’s when you think you realize that he means it. The motion of his hips is deep and insistent, as if to try and leave a permanent reminder that he was there.

You’re crying, you realize. And he’s kissing the tears away like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pressing his forehead to yours as his lips keep forming the words. At some point, you’ve started saying them back to him too, choking them out despite everything so that you know that he knows that you love him.

When you finish, it feels like a supernova exploding inside of you. It starts in the center of your body and pushes its way to your fingertips til you’re gasping for air and he fucks you through it. Bradley cums moments later, filling you with his warmth in a way that’s both familiar and still thrilling.

He rolls gently off you, and you hiss as he slips out. That’ll be a mess to clean up.

But he’s looking at you, brushing your sweaty hair from your face, and his eyes are shining so brightly that it feels like looking at the sun. You want to look away, but you think that losing your vision in return for staring at the way his eyes crinkle in genuine happiness is well worth the price.

I love you, he mouths. And you believe him.

You whisper it back.

tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @genius2050 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts @theharddeck @wkndwlff - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #no use of y/n

454 notes · View notes

kyuteflesh · 3 months

Text

price / soap / f!reader

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・

* soap wants u real bad + being prices property = threesome

this is just a little unfinished thought. plotting up a storm rn. unprofessional for them but let me live my fantasy pls.

⚠️: degradation, slight smut, mainly just price yapping, +18

you were the captains bitch. everyone knew that.

from the way you came out of his office stumbling, new hickeys showing up every other day.

soap had been plotting on you since day 1. unlucky for him, price got to you first. he just had the charm soap lacked ig.

was that really the case tho???? or did price just ask you out sooner?

here you were, pinned up against the wall of johnnys room. his brawny arms keeping you restricted. tonguing your mouth, wanting more.

“we can’t be doing this, johnny. if he finds out, we’re both as good as dead”

“if you would just keep it down, then he wouldn’t possi—“

that’s when a fuming price burst through the door, materials clanging so loudly against each other you were sure the knob left a hole in the wall.

soap quickly backed away from you. temperature dropping, hands clammy. looks of panic coming from both of you.

“forget to lock the door eh, mactavish? ‘m sure you won’t make that mistake again. not after i have a fuckin’ bullet going through your thick, idiotic skull.”

price approached you, you were cowering under his much taller and intimidating stature. “please don’t kill him, john. he must’ve had too much to drink- i don’t know just please!”

scowling at you, inches away from your face. you could feel the steam radiating off of him.

“don’t hurt ‘em, ey? why should i listen to a whore who can’t keep her legs closed for any man? that’s all i’m gathering out of this.” price slid his hand down your pants, running a finger between your folds.

pulling it back out, he let out a measly laugh.

soap could do nothing but nervously fiddle with his thumbs.

quite the dumbass he was, trying to enter someone else’s property. he was stuck regretting every single decision leading up to this moment.

“look at this, johnny. look at how wet youve got my little cum dump. isn’t that something?” smiling, he wiped his finger off on johnnys neck.

gulping, he finally was able to muster out a few words. “i’m so so sorry captain, sir. it won’t ever happen again i—“

“pfft, johnny, lad, you’re such a pushover. grow a pair. you wanna fuck my girl? at least let me show you how it’s done first.”

WHAT DID HE SAAAYYYY??!!!!

“what?!” you both gasped in unison.

“you heard me. now y/n,” having a seat on the bed, price started to take his dick out. it was still soft.

“make me hard. let’s put that filthy mouth of yours to good use.” he patted his lap.

you were too stunned to speak, nervously sweating, blushing.

“are you deaf all of a sudden?” price spat out. he was losing his patience.

you quickly complied, not wanting the situation to escalate any further.

you lowered down to your knees, giving his tip a soft kitten lick. you began to take his whole length in your mouth. hollowing your cheeks as you let your tongue roam.

it was only a matter of time before you could feel him stiffening, hitting the back of your throat.

price took his attention away from you, looking up to johnny. “you want this?” he beckoned, running his hands through your hair.

johnny just nodded. ashamed of the growing erection in his pants. “come take my place then”

you were in doggy, face full of johnnys cock. pussy soon to be full of john’s cock. funny!

price gave your ass a firm smack. you were nervous. this was the first thing you’ve indulged in anything of the sort (a 3sum, that is).

johnny squeezed his eyes shut. not believing what was going on. the woman of his dreams giving him the blowjob of his life. his higher up fucking you from behind.

teetering back and forth between the two, you barely needed to put any effort in.

price was fucking you hard enough to where you didn’t need to bob your head for johnny.

it would be foolish to think that none of you were enjoying this.

you got to be used as a fuck doll by these insanely hot military men. dream come true.

146 notes · View notes

tyonfs · 2 years

Text

high-waisted shorts

❝ i noticed you staring at my ass earlier, by the way. do you want me to get my shorts out of the way so you can get a better look? ❞

PAIRING ▸ huang renjun x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, strangers to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, one night stand trope, fingering, palming, oral (fem. receiving), more oral (m. receiving), choking, raw sex (pls use protection), in this society we make important decisions with rock paper scissors, copious amounts of anime references, ft. jaemin, hyuck, and jeno tormenting poor renjun

SUMMARY ▸ huang renjun might be the least committed to all this “bitch hunting” bullshit, and he doesn’t want to stoop to the level of stupidity his friends are at. that’s why he’s pissed when you’re strutting around in those high waisted shorts wherever you go, making renjun lose all sense of reason.

PLAYLIST ▸ like by bts • cravin by danileigh, g-eazy • 23 by chase atlantic • sparkle by radwimps

WORD COUNT ▸ 7,850 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ first installment of the bitch hunters series !! wrote this while i was angry bc my discord got hacked and i was furiously typing LOL but hope u enjoy ♡

THE FIRST TIME HUANG RENJUN LAID EYES ON YOU, HE FELT LIKE A SINNER.

He wasn’t religious by any means, but some force in the universe had to be frowning down on Renjun for the way he was staring at your ass. His housemate, Donghyuck, had thrown a party at their house for the sole purpose of meeting new girls, and Renjun found this whole thing absolutely ridiculous. His roommates were dead-set on finding a girlfriend this year, and they had taken it to the extent of creating a contract to detail the rules of their “bitch hunting.”

On the other hand, Renjun thought he could find love naturally, so he wasn’t too keen on indulging himself tonight.

However, looking at the way your shorts were riding up whenever you jutted out your hip, Renjun felt like he could let go for a night.

It had been ages since he hooked up with someone. The last time was probably during his second year of college. For his third year, he was committed to just passing his classes and trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to do with his life. Now that Renjun was in the final stretch, he supposed he could take it easy on himself and get his dick wet.

“You’re drooling.” Renjun looked over to fellow bitch hunter Na Jaemin smirking at him, handing him a red solo cup with a shot of tequila (or, more like a shot and a half because Jaemin sucked at measuring drinks). His best friend slash housemate added, “Go talk to her.”

“What?” Renjun asked, startled. “No, no, I’m not trying to hook up with someone.”

“I said talk,” Jaemin reminded. “You’re the one who said hook up.”

Renjun balked. He stared at his triumphant-looking friend for a moment before downing the tequila in his cup. Warmth spread to his chest in seconds, and he was starting to feel the self-control in his brain fog over. Renjun liked the feeling of being drunk; it allowed him to stop caring about stupid things, like talking to pretty girls in high-waisted shorts.

“You know what,” he grumbled, “fine.”

But, sometimes, it also made him do stupid things, like walking over to talk to pretty girls in high-waisted shorts.

“Hey,” Renjun greeted when he approached you. You were standing alone at the kitchen counter for a while, eyeing all the drinks spread out. “Are you liking the party?”

You turned to him and shrugged. “I guess. My roommate brought me here, but I don’t know anyone except her, so it’s kinda awkward.”

“Who’s your roommate?”

You looked over your shoulder and pointed to a girl with short hair. “Minjeong. She knows Jeno, I think.”

Renjun snorted. He recalled Jeno and Minjeong having a thing for a brief period. Since the walls were rather thin and Jeno wasn’t exactly quiet, he vividly remembered the filthy words he heard from his housemate’s room. Renjun would routinely kick the wall to shut Jeno up. In fact, he was doing Minjeong a service by rescuing her from a man who played League of Legends.

But Renjun didn’t know Minjeong had a roommate—and a hot one at that. He regretted not encouraging Jeno’s hookup to come to more of their parties.

“Well, now you know me,” Renjun said and held his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Huang Renjun.”

You giggled and took his hand. Yours was so much smaller than his. Maybe Renjun was thinking too much about how nicely his hand fit with yours. Maybe he was taking too long to shake your hand.

He realized this once you started talking and he was still clutching on.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced, and the little glint in your eyes made Renjun wonder if you were charmed. That was a plus for him; Renjun wasn’t terrible with girls, but he never made such strong first impressions. “What brings you here, then?”

“I live here, actually,” Renjun answered with a grin. He noticed you glancing at his cup, so he set it down to pour a shot for you in another cup. “You’re at my party, and I have no choice but to socialize. My friends would probably drag me out of my room if I tried to ditch.” He held out the cup to you, and then paused. “You’re not a lightweight, are you?”

“Why would it matter if I’m a lightweight?” you asked with a coy smile, taking the cup in your hand.

Renjun shrugged. Maybe it was the liquid confidence spurring him to act bolder, but he could hardly believe the words that came out of his mouth next.

“Maybe I wanted to give you a room tour.”

To his surprise, you laughed, delighted. “A room tour?” you asked. “Sure, why not?” You set your cup down and grinned at him. “Also, I can handle my liquor just fine.”

Renjun lifted his brows, amused. He slid his hand into yours and led you to the staircase, a small smile playing on his lips. He hadn’t expected you to agree so easily, but perhaps you both were experiencing a surge of adrenaline that made you want to do anything and everything.

If Renjun was Jeno or Donghyuck, he would’ve had to ask you to wait outside for a minute. Thankfully, he didn’t live like a slob and wasn’t ashamed of his living conditions. He kept things neat and tidy, and the only thing he probably had to worry about was his lotion and tissue box being right next to each other.

He hoped you wouldn’t pick up on that detail, though.

“Nice room,” you complimented when he opened the door. You looked around curiously before walking in, and Renjun headed in after you. “Do you normally bring girls up here like this?”

“Only the cute ones,” Renjun said, leaning against his door frame. “Do you normally follow guys into their rooms like this?”

You shot back a knowing smirk. “Only the cute ones,” you echoed, and Renjun wondered if he had died and gone to heaven.

He wasn’t on his A-game right now. It had been years since Renjun got laid, and the only reason he was functioning in front of you was because the tequila made him a smidge less over-analytical about everything he said.

“I noticed you staring at my ass earlier, by the way,” you added shyly, even though nothing about you seemed the least bit shy. Renjun wished the ground would swallow him whole. Before he went on a tangent about how he respected women and their bodies and started to apologize profusely for making you uncomfortable, you walked right up to him and continued, “Do you want me to get my shorts out of the way so you can get a better look?”

Clearly the universe had monumental plans for his dick tonight.

Renjun swallowed thickly and shut the door with one hand immediately. The booming music from downstairs grew more muffled, and he returned his attention to you once he locked it.

He was presented with the opportunity of a lifetime, so he let his hormones take over and cupped your sex. Through your shorts.

Granted, the material was rather thick, but Renjun could feel your core pulsate through the fabric, and it drove him crazy.

“Fuck,” he growled when you started grinding your hips against his palm. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“More,” you begged, desperately rocking your hips to get as much friction as possible. Renjun smirked at how you clung onto him. “Want more.”

“Yeah, ‘course you do,” he mumbled, adding more pressure to his slow, torturous hand motions. Renjun walked you back so that the back of your knees were hitting the bed. “Can I take off your clothes?” You nodded in response but Renjun just grabbed your chin with his free hand and ordered, “Use your words, Y/N.”

You giggled a little, off-beat. “Go ahead,” you responded, looking at Renjun with newfound excitement.

Renjun’s lips found the junction of your neck and shoulder, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses as he undid the front of your shorts. It felt like ages since he had done something like this, but it felt so natural for Renjun to rub your dripping slit with two fingers. Slow, torturous motions of his fingers, and then you were whimpering and squirming under him, begging for him to put his fingers inside of you.

“Patience.” Renjun chuckled, tugging your shorts down until they were at your ankles. You arched your hips to help him take off your underwear along with it. The sight of your bare cunt made Renjun a weak man. “Holy fuck.”

His fingers returned to rub your slit, and when you were drenching Renjun’s fingers with your arousal, he decided it was high time for him to give you what you wanted. He made direct eye contact with you as he slid his fingers inside of you, and the way your breath hitched and face contorted made Renjun nearly lose it.

He hadn’t even put his fingers all the way in and your walls were clenching around him. Renjun fought down the groan that dared to slip—simply from how tight you were around his digits.

“Jesus,” he grunted out, “you’re gonna feel so good around me.”

“You’re gonna give it to me?” you asked in a breath, and your tone was bordering on hopefulness and surprise.

“Yeah, of course.” Renjun’s eyes darkened when he coupled his fingering by planting his thumb on your clit, relishing the broken moan that escaped your lips. He had to use his free hand to manhandle your hips firmly to the mattress.

“S-sorry,” you apologized, and Renjun could tell you were trying your best to stop yourself from bucking your hips. He decided there was a simpler method to go about this, so he pulled his fingers away and scooted back. You frowned and looked over at him before whining, “Why’d you st—oh.”

Renjun held your hips down so that he could lick a long stripe between your folds, flattening his tongue once he got to your clit. He smirked at your reaction, proceeding to eat you out like a starved man. Renjun relished each moan and whimper that fell from your lips, barely audible over the muffled, booming music from downstairs. He was sure their neighbors would call for a complaint sooner or later, but nothing could pull Renjun from the intoxicating taste of you.

His motions must have been hitting the right places because you were squirming so much that Renjun had to grip your thighs tighter to remind you to stay still. He returned one hand to rubbing your clit in a steady motion as he ate you out, and he was pleased with how reactive you were.

A tingling flush spread across Renjun’s cheeks when your back arched against his bed, and he sucked on your ball of nerves a little harsher to coax you into your orgasm.

Then, he changed his mind.

You gasped when he pulled back. “I was so close!”

Renjun nearly laughed at how offended you looked before explaining, “I wanna make you cum on my cock instead.”

“Your cock?”

Renjun hummed. He wasn’t trying to edge you, but while he was going down on you, bringing you closer and closer to your release, he realized he wanted to see the look in your eyes when he brought you to your orgasm. He wanted to see how you fell apart because of him.

Exasperated, you hurried to sit up and maneuvered to get over Renjun, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. Renjun didn’t intend to imply that he wanted you to ride him, but he was liking this turn of events more and more.

“Wow,” he got out in a breath, hands ghosting your body with an awestruck look on his face. “You’re gorgeous.”

Your reply, though, was blunt. “I want you to go raw.”

Renjun blinked at you for a second. At first, he was indifferent about it and just supposed you had cut out the extra step of getting a condom from his nightstand and sliding it on. Then, he realized how unbelievable this situation was—unbelievable and incredibly sexy.

“Are you sure?” he asked, although he was beaming at your words. “I mean, we just met.”

“As long as you don’t give me an STD, I’m down.” You drew Renjun closer and scooted up higher on his lap. “Plus, Plan B is only six dollars at the health center.”

“I’ll Venmo you three,” Renjun replied, dazed as you tugged his pants down and palmed his bulge. He stifled a groan, gripping your waist tighter. “Y/N—fuck.”

You had already rid of Renjun’s briefs, tracing the underside of his head once his cock sprang free. He found it awful how turned on he was by the way you eyed his size, so Renjun did the one thing that kept clouding his head and he pulled you into a fervent kiss, drinking the pink lemonade smirnoff right off your tongue.

Dizzying. Hazy. Intoxicating.

There was so much shuffling as Renjun kicked off his pants and underwear properly, adjusting his position so that you could ride him properly, but the both of you couldn’t pull away from each other’s lips.

“God,” Renjun growled out against your lips when you raised your hips to lower yourself onto his throbbing cock. He drank in the way your face contorted and your thighs twitched as you tried to take him in. After much easing and filthy words that Renjun whispered against your skin, you finally took him fully. “Good girl,” he praised, smirking at your whimper that followed his words.

He broke from the kiss to help you. Renjun held your hips firmly, guiding your movements so that you could ride him at a steady pace. He grunted at the way your walls clenched around him, and he was already so, so sensitive.

“You’re h-huge,” you stuttered, screwing your eyes shut when Renjun’s hand moved up your body, caressing each curve and dip. “Oh my god.”

His hand moved up to grope your tits through your shirt, and before he tried to slip his hands under your shirt, he slid his hand further up to choke you instead. Renjun was delighted at how you sped up when he pressed lightly against the sides of your neck.

You placed your hand over his, much like someone admiring a diamond necklace would. Your back arched as you continued bouncing on his cock, your head thrown back with moans trapped in your throat. Renjun was a little disappointed that he couldn’t freely let you be loud, but watching you hold it in might have been even better.

Renjun’s breathing was ragged when he drew you close yet again, and though you looked fucked-out, you seemed to understand right away that all he wanted was to taste your lips again. Renjun kissed you with hunger, driving his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours in a desperate union.

“C-close,” you mumbled between kisses, and Renjun only smirked and deepened the kiss. Some twisted part of him wanted to keep you quiet against his lips as you came undone.

He fucked up into you as your motions became less coordinated and sloppy. Renjun’s heartbeat was drumming in his ear when he witnessed you fall into your orgasm, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock so fast that he came into you right after. His grip on your neck tightened ever-so-slightly when you dared to moan louder, yet it only seemed to turn you on even more.

He pulled back and leaned against the headboard, absolutely spent. Renjun helped you off his cock, groaning at the sight of his cum leaking out of you.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Renjun said, wondering if you’d mind if he played with your clit for a while. He ended up doing so, and it was strangely domestic by how casual you were about it.

“Can I sleep over?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes, and god, Renjun couldn’t refuse you when you were giving him those eyes.

“Need a shirt?” he offered.

“Yes, please.”

When Renjun woke up the next morning, you were gone, as expected. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, trying to figure out where the fuck his shirt was. Eventually, he gave up on his search and threw on a sweater that was strewn over the head of his chair.

There was an acrylic nail laying on the pillow next to Renjun. He snorted at the sight. Cinderella left her glass slipper behind for the prince; you left your acrylic nail.

He chucked it in the trash, deciding that he would rather get rid of the nail instead of making you feel embarrassed for letting it get caught on the fabric. Maybe he was a little upset that you hadn’t even left a note behind, but it wasn’t like Renjun was expecting to meet the one at a house party. Hell, he wasn’t even as dedicated to his housemates’ “bitch hunting” antics as they were.

He trudged downstairs to make himself a bowl of cereal. Renjun forgot how tiring sex was, though the post-orgasm haze was always nice to bask in. Coupled with drinking last night, though, he craved something to scarf down so that he could regain a sense of his bearings.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Donghyuck greeted. He was sipping a cup of coffee next to Jeno in the kitchen. “Jaemin told us that you were getting some last night.”

Renjun grimaced. He recalled how he could never keep his hookups private because someone would snitch on him to the rest of his housemates. This invasiveness was something he never got used to.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered vaguely. “I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”

“Is she not cuffing material?” Jeno asked. “C’mon, you can’t be fucking around when we’re supposed to be getting girlfriends.”

Rich coming from the guy who screwed your roommate.

Renjun grabbed his Frosted Flakes from the shelf and opened the other cupboard to get a bowl. He promptly ignored Jeno so that he wouldn’t let some crucial information about your identity slip. He would’ve rather kept you on the down-low, so that his housemates wouldn’t mess with the both of you.

The last time Renjun had a crush on a girl, it resulted in both him and Kim Yerim being incessantly teased. Jaemin did everything in his power to make sure Yerim’s bottle landed on Renjun when they played Spin the Bottle at a party in freshman year. He even to the extent of shoving Jeno out of the way so that the bottle was closer to Renjun.

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck started, “Y/N seems like girlfriend-material to me.”

Well, that secret lasted for all but five seconds.

The shock must have shown on his face because Jeno burst out laughing immediately, Donghyuck following suit and slapping Jeno’s arm playfully. Renjun shook his head and returned to pouring his milk and cereal in the bowl, trying to ignore how obnoxious his friends were.

Keyword: trying.

“Ow!” Jeno winced when Renjun jabbed his side.

“Dude, for real, though,” Donghyuck started, “we’ll help you out if you really like her.”

“Don’t make it such a big deal.” Renjun tried to wave it off with a dismissive hand gesture, and his friends shrugged in response. “I don’t even know her that well.”

“You don’t want to get to know her?”

Did Renjun want to know more about you? Well, he was probably addicted to the taste of your lips and the way you looked underneath him, but he hadn’t had too many conversations with you to gauge whether he was interested in more. However, the way you looked in those high-waisted shorts did make him a touch curious about seeing you again.

“Nah,” Renjun lied coolly. “Forget it.”

Renjun couldn’t get you out of his fucking head.

Well, it was pretty hard to do so when he discovered you sat right in front of him in his aerospace thermodynamics class.

In those damn high-waisted shorts.

It was another pair this time—white with the hem fringed. Renjun couldn’t even focus on the lecture about the Carnot Cycle when he kept getting vivid flashbacks to the previous night. Your lips dragging across his skin. His hands traveling up and down your body. Your nails digging into his back.

“... and those will be your pairings for the final project. Please come see me if you have any further questions, otherwise refer to the module,” Renjun’s professor finished.

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in to look up at the screen. Renjun scanned the document the professor had pulled up with a list of names, running down until he saw his name right next to yours.

This had to be a joke. It was something straight out of a movie. Some shitty rom-com where the two main characters slowly fell into a pure relationship through a forced partnership, but there was nothing that was pure between you and Renjun after what had happened last night.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Renjun muttered under his breath, nearly gasping when you whipped your head around to look at him questionably. “Oh. Hey.” He raised a brow before stupidly asking, “You come here often?”

“I’m a student here, so yeah,” you answered.

Figured.

You continued, “We’re partners.”

“We are,” Renjun confirmed, “so we’re gonna be working together for a while.”

A slow grin spread across your face, making Renjun swallow thickly. Your eyes shone with a mischievous glint, and your gaze dropped a little before drifting back up to look Renjun in the eye.

“I look forward to working with you, partner.”

“Yeah.” Renjun coughed a little. “Me too… partner.”

The first time you and Renjun met up to “work together” after exchanging numbers was exactly a week later. It wasn’t very productive, to say the least. You offered to start it at your place, and Renjun realized this was probably a bad idea, but it had to be 0.1% better than working at his house, so he obliged.

He realized that he had no idea what the project was even on until he was sitting in your living room, looking over your shoulder to see the project guidelines pulled up on your laptop.

“Which one of these do you wanna do?” you asked. “My concentration is aeronautics so I’m leaning toward the cooling method design one.”

“I’m astronautics.” Renjun snorted. “I like the jet propulsion one.”

Renjun and you stared at each other for a minute. He wasn’t sure how to diffuse this tension; he could kiss you, but the fire in your eyes made it clear that this was competitive tension, not sexual tension. Then, you held out your hand in front of you, balling it into a fist and placing it in the palm of your other hand.

“Let’s rock, paper, scissors this,” you decided.

Renjun raised a brow. “You’re using rock, paper, scissors to decide the outcome of our final grade in a major class?” he asked, and when you nodded, he shrugged. “Alright, let’s do it.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

1 Renjun, 0 Y/N.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”

2 Renjun, 0 Y/N.

Your face fell, and Renjun found it cute how distraught you were at the realization that you were losing at your own game. You were relentless, though, and held out your fist again.

“Best out of three,” you said.

“Even if it’s best out of three, I still win,” Renjun argued. “I literally won it twice.”

“I’ll suck you off if we can do the cooling method design.”

Renjun nearly choked on his own spit, coughing for a moment before he calmed down and tried to take your offer seriously. There was something ethically wrong about all of this, but only a fool would turn down a blowjob. At least that was what Renjun tried to convince himself of.

That was how the first work session went to shit.

Renjun was sitting on the edge of his bed, pants sagging at his ankles and head thrown back as you went down on him. He curled his fist in your hair, guiding your movements and admiring the way tears streamed down your cheeks as you deepthroated him.

He grunted, breath caught in his throat for a moment when your tongue ran along the vein on his cock perfectly, and without warning, Renjun was cumming down your throat.

You were panting when you finally pulled yourself off Renjun, having the nerve to tease his sore and sensitive head while your lips were wrapped around it. He tried to glare down at you, but he was too spent to do anything but catch his breath, leaning back on his hands.

“So…” You smirked devilishly. “Cooling method design, right?”

Renjun scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, though he knew that one more bat of your lashes and he’d end up complying. Whatever spell you had him under, Huang Renjun knew he was royally screwed around you.

Renjun was puzzled.

You two had been working on the group project for a month and a half now, regularly going to each other’s apartments, but absolutely nothing was happening. By nothing, Renjun meant that you seemed to tame whatever aggressive sexual libido you had when you first met him. Now, Renjun was leaving your house bi-weekly with blue balls. It was torture.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t enjoy your company. It was nice having someone to work with that wasn’t only productive but engaged in quality conversations. Sometimes, you went on long rants about your roommate problems, and at this point, Renjun was half-convinced that he knew more about Minjeong than Jeno did.

Later, when Renjun confided in Jaemin about it (why he chose to confide in Jaemin was beyond him, but at least the guy was useful for something), his roommate replied, “You’re in the talking stage, dude.”

What the hell was a talking stage? Renjun wanted immediate obsession.

“Renjun’s getting cuffed?” Donghyuck questioned. Before Renjun could respond, too dazed from Jaemin’s response, Donghyuck’s lips curled into a smirk. “Attaboy.”

“She got Renjun to watch anime with her.” Jaemin scoffed. “Can you believe it?”

“Which one?” Jeno chimed in. A pout settled on his roommate’s face. “You don’t even watch anime with me, Renjun.”

“I didn’t even agree yet!” Renjun defended, pulling out his phone with the texts from you as proof. “See? She just sent me a list of her recommendations. I didn’t even decide if I was gonna watch one of them yet.”

“Some of the summaries she wrote are concerning,” Jaemin said, looking over his friend’s shoulder to see the list. “Would you watch ‘girl gets in a car crash while she’s trying to save a loser god and her soul leaves her body sometimes to chill with the other gods’ or ‘gay volleyball players that are actually not gay and just have a wholesome friendship and play volleyball a lot’?”

“My personal favorite is ‘bad bitches gamble in high school,’” Donghyuck added. “Sounds heartwarming.”

“Don’t watch that one,” Jeno cut in with a serious tone, which was a refreshing change from the torment that Jaemin and Donghyuck were inflicting upon Renjun. “The two that Jaemin suggested are way better.”

Jaemin leaned in to whisper to Renjun and Donghyuck, “Jeno takes this stuff seriously. He even has a whole anime tier list.”

Unbeknownst to his housemates, Renjun had already done his extensive research on the shows already. He had looked up every summary and review for each show, and he already mentally selected the anime he wanted to start with. Renjun liked to reciprocate with these sorts of gestures; if someone was going to put in the effort for him, he wanted to show the same energy back.

So, the minute you sent Renjun that extensive text, he got right to researching the suitable anime to watch. He weighed all the pros and cons before coming to a conclusion. It was the only right thing to do after you put so much work into sending him that text.

(In reality, you probably only spent a few minutes typing it all out.)

“I didn’t choose either of those,” Renjun announced. “I’m going with Your Name.”

“My name?” Donghyuck asked stupidly, pointing at himself. “There’s an anime called Hyuck?”

“Yeah, it’s called the Goofy Movie,” Jaemin retorted.

“This is why you’re a piece of shit, Jaemin.”

“No, Your Name,” Renjun corrected. “It’s an anime movie, dumbass.”

“Is that on your tier list, Jeno?” Jaemin asked.

“Yeah…” Jeno trailed off, rubbing his chin as he tried to remember where he placed it. His eyes shone when it clicked in his head. “It’s in the ‘astronomically down bad’ tier.”

Well, fuck.

Office Hours for aerospace thermodynamics was held on Fridays at eight in the morning, and Renjun found that to be an abomination.

For one, he despised waking up at such an ungodly hour because every hour Renjun had to cut out of his beauty sleep meant a higher risk of breaking out. While it was such an easy task in high school, the few extra years on Renjun now seemed to be a burden on his body. He could barely drag himself out of bed without at least ten alarms that went off five minutes apart.

Secondly, the walk to campus was unbearable. It was too close for Renjun to take his car, but it felt like miles when he went by foot. He was always a sweltering mess by the time he got on campus grounds, speed walking to get into the first air conditioned building he could see.

But, now, Renjun had something to look forward to: you.

“You’re late!” you scolded in a whisper. Renjun was huffing when he approached you in front of the door to their professor’s office. He bit back a smile at how cute your fake-angry face was. “Did you run here or something? You’re all sweaty.”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “You sure know a lot about me being sweaty, huh?” This got a laugh out of you—one that Renjun had to sneak a look at through the corner of his eye, beaming at how your eyes lit up at his joke. He asked, “Is he talking to another student?”

“Yeah, he said he’ll be with us in ten,” you replied. “I brought my laptop so we can show him all the slides we made.”

“Perfect. That’s plenty of time,” Renjun said. Before you could ask what he meant, he pinched your inner thigh—a gesture that felt more endearing than sexual—and he started walking ahead of you. “Follow me.”

While you were tailing behind, hounding Renjun with questions, he was scanning the windows down the hall to see which classroom was completely empty. When he finally found one void of students and teachers, he opened it and grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside with him. Your questions ceased once you caught onto what he was suggesting.

“Cute shorts,” Renjun commented.

“You couldn’t take it anymore, huh?” You ran your nicely-manicured fingernails down Renjun’s chest, biting back a smile as he closed the door behind the two of you. “I know you’d cave sooner or later.”

Renjun’s mind went completely blank, like the static when tuning to a different radio station. Then, it dawned on him.

“You planned this.”

“Not completely,” you defended. “I knew you had a thing for me in these kinds of shorts, so I wanted to see how long I could wear them for until you finally exploded.”

“Oh my god,” Renjun breathed out. He cornered you against the wall, looking down at you in awe. He nearly popped a boner with the way you looked up at him with that coy smile. “You little devil.”

Renjun turned you around with no proper warning, pressing up against your back while your front was against the wall. You turned your head to the side as you gasped, trying to crane your neck to look back at him, but to no avail. Renjun reached down the front of your shorts and started rubbing you through your underwear—agonizingly slow.

His smile was a little unhinged as he palmed you, relishing the way you crooned and moaned because of his hand movements. Renjun loved the way you were arching your back against him, each stutter of your hips against his crotch reminding him of how he ached for you.

For some reason, Renjun could only think about ripping your clothes off and having his way with you. If he could, he would completely ignore Office Hours, but you seemed too adamant on attending. Something about getting those stupid slides approved. (Renjun could honestly care less with his 95% in the class, but he wasn’t going to gloat.) So, you rushed him through the foreplay, begging him to not make you two late for your meeting.

“Good girl,” he simpered when he had one of your legs wrapped around his hips, easing his cock into your walls as slowly as he could, all the while rubbing your clit with his thumb. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You whimpered. “I haven’t been fucked in months.”

“Seriously? Ever since we hooked up?”

When you nodded, Renjun felt like all the blood from his head rushed to his cock. He was a little lightheaded, but he was incredibly horny. He waited for you to adjust properly, and then Renjun settled for a ruthless pace, fucking into you so abruptly that your arms slung around his neck immediately.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips as he thrusted. You returned it immediately, eyes fluttering shut and melting into him. It was sweet and somewhat out-of-place given the magnitude of what you two were currently doing.

The feeling of your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair and your broken croons against his lips was absolutely divine. Something about being so close to you coupled with the risk of being caught made Renjun feel so connected to you on levels he hadn’t felt before. He, for one, would never do something like this for someone who he was just hooking up with.

He was a man of reward, not risk. You, however, made him consider both.

“Oh! Right there!” you yelped one he hit that one perfect spot. You tried to quiet down your cries, but it was clearly not working, so Renjun did you a favor and clamped a hand over your mouth as he fucked you against the wall.

“Come on, love,” he taunted, “you better cum fast before we miss that meeting. You don’t wanna be caught, do you?”

Your eyes were glossy with tears rimming the waterline. Renjun nearly got lost in them, breath hitching when tears started rolling down your cheeks and your hips continued bucking up against his, begging for more contact. That was when Renjun realized you were on the edge, and he figured it out too late because one final thrust had you clenching around him and letting out muffled moans against his palm.

You spoke against his hand, almost inaudible because of how muffled your voice was.

“What was that?” Renjun asked, removing his hand.

“Don’t cum,” you clarified, hazy as Renjun kept thrusting into you like a well-oiled machine.

“Are you denying my orgasm? That’s kinda hot.”

“D-don’t make a mess,” you said, reaching up to grab his cheek. “We still have that meeting.”

“Alright, alright,” Renjun said softly, slowing his thrusts until he pulled out of you and tucked his cock away. He was still aching and hard as a rock, so he was going to have to take a quick bathroom break and have you stall the professor for time. “This isn’t just gonna be a monthly thing, right?”

“Bi-monthly?” you joked. Renjun snickered and nudged your shoulder playfully. “C’mon, I’d be stupid to not let that happen again.”

“Wanna come over tonight?” he offered. “Not… not to do our project. Let’s, like, actually hang out. We can watch one of your anime recommendations.”

You smiled at him. “Tonight? Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Y/N, I…” Renjun started, and when he realized what he was going to say, he cut himself off, shocked.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “I have to go to the bathroom to take care of my little problem,” he mumbled. “Stall the professor for me, will you?”

You threw your head back and laughed—well, it was more like a cackle. It sounded kind of evil, and Renjun was a little miffed at the thought of you enjoying the thought of him suffering with blue balls.

When you agreed and fixed your appearance before you left, Renjun had to lean back against one of the desks and process what had just happened. It wasn’t the sex that he was so worried about, but it was the words that died on his tongue. The words he would’ve let fall from his lips if he had just a little less self-control.

I like you a lot.

“I think I’m gonna ask Y/N out,” Renjun blurted out that evening at the dinner table.

Jaemin choked on his cereal. Nobody asked why he was eating Frosted Flakes while everyone else was eating a proper meal; it was probably just a Jaemin thing. Renjun was more curious as to why he had a second box of cereal next to his bowl, though, like he was ready to devour both.

“You’re asking her out?!” Donghyuck asked, an excited glint playing in his eyes. Renjun knew that look all too well, and he was a little scared of it, but part of him wanted to believe it was genuine excitement from his friend.

“I like her,” Renjun admitted. “A lot.”

Jeno whistled lowly. “I didn’t think this day would come. Mark would be proud of you, Renjun.”

“I never needed Mark’s validation, Jeno, but thanks.”

“So, when are you gonna ask her?” Jaemin asked, spooning a bunch of cereal and milk into his mouth.

That was what Renjun was stuck on. He had no idea what “good timing” was, and he wasn’t sure if asking a girl out while watching anime was very romantic. Then again, he didn’t expect you to care too much about formalities like that.

Plus, it was clear that you had some feelings for Renjun. He could feel the mutual intimacy when he split you open, as odd as that sounded.

“Tonight,” Renjun decided.

(“Need us to leave the house? We can chill outside,” Donghyuck offered.

“No, you’re good,” Renjun told him, “and I’m saying this because I saw the binoculars in your backpack so please stay in your room, for the love of God.”)

Huang Renjun was meticulous.

Because of this, he actually watched Your Name before you came over. He didn’t pay too much attention to the plot because he wanted to get into it while you were by his side, but he noted the three ideal points in the movie to drop the question of the night.

So, when you knocked at his door, he was prepared.

“Hey,” you breathed out, and Renjun felt winded for a second because you looked absolutely gorgeous with your scarf pulled up to your chin.

“What’s up?” He rubbed the back of his neck and was starting to wonder if he wasn’t as prepared as he thought he was.

“I dressed up,” you told him. “Isn’t it stupid? I dressed up to watch anime.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Renjun replied, and he could hear miniature replicas of his roommates screaming in his head, telling him that he was fumbling the bag. So, he quickly added, “But it’s cute.”

Fumbled and saved. Renjun was too lucky sometimes.

“You think I’m cute?” you asked as Renjun opened his laptop to stream the movie. He was a bit distracted with entering his password in, but when he processed your question, he did a double take. You giggled at his reaction. “Well?”

“I mean…” He hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as he thought they were. “I guess so—yeah.”

He patted the space next to him on his bed before you could tease him any further. Renjun thought his heart would go crazy if you continued being so annoyingly adorable in front of him. So, he fixed his gaze on his laptop screen, only glancing at you when you slid into the sheets next to him and leaned against his arm. Renjun placed half of the laptop on your lap so that it was centered.

Normally, instances like these would result in a cuddle session. However, Renjun had to understand that you took your anime seriously, and that there would be nothing sexual or romantic happening while you two were watching the movie. He decided to buckle down and watch it seriously himself.

However, that resulted in Renjun missing all of the ideal points in the movie to drop the “will you be my girlfriend?” bomb. He wound up being so immersed in the movie, and he only realized that he had actually fumbled the bag when they reached the climax of the movie.

“This part makes me so anxious,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” Renjun replied bitterly. Thankfully, you didn’t have the mind to question why he sounded so indifferent. “Same here.”

When Renjun recalled the possibly romantic ending scene, he realized he had another chance to make things right.

Unfortunately, he got so distracted by the movie again that he completely missed the opportunity to ask you out. He was mentally scolding himself for being so out-of-character.

“Renjun,” you started, and he turned to you with a raised brow. “You look disappointed with the ending.”

“I’m not disappointed with the movie, I’m disappointed in myself,” he answered honestly. “The movie was incredible, really. Five out of five stars on Yelp.”

You gently touched his arm. “Why are you disappointed in yourself?”

“Because I wanted to ask you out!” Renjun exclaimed. God, he was stupid. He was so, so, so stupid, but the words were slipping out without any proper filter. “I picked out, like, three good moments in the movie where I could’ve popped the question, but I was being an idiot and missed them all. Jesus, this is so—”

“I like you, too.”

There was a feeling Renjun got sometimes when he was around you. It was when his chest felt fuzzy and his stomach kept dropping. He supposed it was what people described as “butterflies,” but Renjun despised butterflies, so he didn’t want to call it that.

But, here you were, laying your feelings bare in front of Renjun. He felt like the sun, Earth, and the moon had all aligned for this very moment. It was like a collision of supernovas in his chest, making him buzz and glow with the amount of inexplicable joy he felt.

You liked him. You liked him.

“You…” Renjun trailed off. “Huh?”

“I like you, stupid,” you insisted, punching his shoulder lightly. “Do I have to scream it in your ear?”

“I might be dreaming.” When you brought your lips to Renjun’s ear, he panicked and held you back by your shoulders. “Okay, relax, I get it. You like me back. Understood.”

You grinned. “Well, do you have something you wanna say?”

Renjun blushed. He couldn’t believe he could feel flustered to this extent, but you had a strange effect on him. When he regained his composure, he moved the laptop off your laps and turned to face you a little more.

“Y/N,” he started. “I like you a lot, so will you be my girlfriend?”

You smiled brightly and kissed his cheek. “Of course.”

Renjun looked you dead in the eye. “So, ready to seal the deal?” he asked.

“What deal?”

Renjun’s hand moved to hold the back of your neck, leaning down to pull you into a sweet kiss. He was surprised by how easily you fell into the rhythm, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Renjun pulled you closer by your hip, nearly going further until you placed your hands on his chest.

You pulled back for air, looking up at him with a glazed-over expression. He was definitely going to have to make this impromptu first date up to you with something more romantic, but, for now, Huang Renjun was too lost in your eyes.

“Up for a round?” you asked.

Renjun’s cheeks heated up before you handed him the game console. “Smash Bros. Right.” He took it from your hands and sent you a lopsided grin. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

A grin spread across your face. “Don’t be too sure of yourself,” you chided. “Even though I’m your girlfriend now, I’m not showing you any mercy.”

Jeno groaned as he slapped a ten dollar bill into Donghyuck’s palm. The two of them and Jaemin had been eavesdropping on their best friend’s confession earlier, and they were glad for two reasons: one being that Renjun was the first bitch hunter to attain a bitch, and the second reason being that they didn’t have to listen in on them nearly fucking.

“Jaemin, I need ten dollars from you, too,” Donghyuck chided. “I said they’d get together within two months and they did, so I won this bet fair and square.”

“I was close enough!” Jaemin complained. “Three months was a pretty reasonable estimate.”

“But not the closest, so cough it up.” Donghyuck gestured for his housemate to place the money on his hand, and Jaemin reluctantly did so after much reluctance. “It feels so good to be right all the time.”

“I thought they’d get together in two weeks.” Jeno crossed his arms across his chest. “But, damn, Renjun was the first to get cuffed out of us, and he didn’t even care about bitch hunting.”

“It’s okay, boys,” Donghyuck assured, though his bravado was simply just boosted by his $20 reward, “all of us will find our respective bitches.” He glanced at Jaemin for a moment and made a face. “Actually, I’m not sure about Jaemin, but Jeno and I for sure.”

“Funny,” Jaemin replied bitterly, “I was just about to say the same about you, Hyuck.”

Jeno, sensing the tension rising between his two friends, grinned sheepishly and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “We should get to campus before we’re late, you guys.”

The other two agreed despite bickering the entire walk to the car. Jeno snickered at his friends, but all he could think about was how the heat was on now. Since Renjun was victorious a month and a half into the semester, Jeno knew that Donghyuck and Jaemin would be even more fired up to find their special someone. He, too, wondered when the day would come that he found someone that made him soft around the edges.

For now, though, Jeno could just enjoy listening to his friends banter back-and-forth.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ huang renjun: no bitches to bitch attained >:) thank you so much for your patience with the first installment !! i can’t wait to write the rest <33 i wanna scream it from the top of the building bc i feel like that’s the only way i can truly show my gratitude but i deeeeeply appreciate all the love and support i’ve gotten on this series !! to think this was supposed to be for my 5k follower special and i’m at 6k now!! that’s insane???? i’m so honored that you guys choose to read my works so thank you thank you thank you and i hope you enjoyed the first installment! ♡ (p.s: i hope you caught onto the lil segway to jeno’s at the end :D)

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