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beybaldes · 10 months

Text

it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know

Roy Kent × Fem!Reader

word count : 15.1k a fucking whopper I started writing and couldn’t stop this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written in my life

summary : the 5 times Phoebe got dropped off at your house and the 5 times Roy realised he was in love with you.

content warning : tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent family line, a little angst if you squint really really hard, allusions to smut towards the end but non actually written, me calling Roy’s sister Molly but I can’t remember where I first saw it, no use of yn.

masterlist

a/n : if you want to see a spin off based on any part of this please dot because writing this has broke my writers block!!!! I’d love to write some more Roy <33

1. the first time

It had taken Roy about 15 seconds to decide he was going to drop Phoebe off with you.

When Molly had shown up on his doorstep at 5am, with an asleep Phoebe in her arms, citing she'd been called in for a surgery, he mentally rearranged his whole day to accommodate for his favourite girl. It wasn't until lunchtime rolled around that he remembered an important meeting with Ted and Beard that he, unfortunately, couldn't get out of. So, while brainstorming who on earth he could leave Phoebe with, his mind quickly settled on you.

You were sensible and probably good with kids considering he could remember a couple of mentions of a niece of your own, and he knew - given it was the weekend - that you'd probably be free to look after her. And, not to Roy's surprise, you'd quickly said yes when he called to ask if that was okay.

While it had only been 20 minutes since Roy called, he was already at your doorstep, Phoebe's hand held tightly in his as they waited for you to answer the door.

"Is she pretty?" Phoebe asked, eyes unmoving from the unfamiliar front door as she spoke to her uncle Roy.

Roy scoffed at the question, unsure where it had come from and why his niece couldn't have asked this in the car. If she'd asked in the car he would've given an enthusiastic yes, a smile creeping on his lips as he thought about you, and how you always looked pretty - even if you were in a Richmond pullover and sulking in your office - especially then, actually. "Why does it matter?"

Before Phoebe could answer him, your front door swung open, you behind it with a wide smile. No sooner then it had opened, you'd crouched down to Phoebe's level, giving her a small wave and a bright smile. "Hi Phoebe! I hope you don't mind that you've got to spend the day with me instead of your uncle Roy."

"I don't mind at all," Phoebe shrugged, the straps of her backpack moving greatly with the movement of her much smaller shoulders. "I see my uncle roy all the time."

The laugh that bubbled past your lips made Roy's heart skip a beat, and for a moment he forgot why he was even standing on your doorstep.

As you stood up straight, you gently took Phoebes hand in your own, pulling her closer to you and your home and giving Roy the opportunity to head off for his meeting. "We should let your uncle Roy get going then, shouldn't we?"

"Thanks again for doing this, I owe you one." Maybe I could take you to dinner as thanks? Roy wanted to add, but wasn't brave enough to do so. If he wasn't so head over heels for you, maybe it's be easier to do something about it.

"Don't worry about it," you brushed him off, gently pushing him off of your doorstep and back in the direction of his car, knowing he had places to be. "I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."

"Bye uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, giving him one last wave before running into your house, you quickly following after her to make sure she didn't injure herself exploring the new territory.

Thankfully, she made a b-line for your couch, climbing onto it and emptying the contents of her backpack out on the seat next to her. She pulled a colouring book into her lap and grabbed a fist full of pens, quickly pulling off the caps of her favourite colours and getting to work on her masterpiece.

"Have you had any lunch yet, Phoebe?"

"No, uncle Roy was about to make me lunch when he called you."

While you knew Roy was rushing to his meeting, you didn't realise he'd seemed to forget about it completely.

Phoebes lack of lunch had you searching through all your cupboards for something suitable to feed a 7 year old, and when you couldn't find anything you'd have wanted to eat at 7, your turned to her with a smile. "How do you feel about a trip to Tesco? You can pick out whatever you want for lunch?"

"Perfect!" Phoebe cheered, pushing her pens to the side as quickly as she'd picked them up, running back to your front door to put her shoes and coat on. As soon as she was dressed, you opened up the front door, grabbing your car keys from the dish by the door and directing her in the direction of your car as she ran ahead of you in her excitement.

"Phoebe, you don't need a booster seat do you?" While you had your own niece, she was still young enough to be in a carrier everywhere she went, so you weren't entirely sure what the protocol was for 7 year olds.

"I don't have one in my uncle Roy's car." That was good enough for you.

Phoebe spent the whole car ride to the shops chatting your ear off, bringing you up to speed on everything that was happening at school and football and how many times she'd been red carded this season alone. In many ways, she was like a miniature version of Roy, so it was easy to love being in her presence.

As you arrived at Tesco, you made Phoebe promise she'd stay close to you at all times, not wanting to lose her as soon as Roy had entrusted her in to your care - that wouldn't be good for anyone involved. Phoebe was quick to pull you by the hand in the direction of the frozen aisle, clearly set on something in particular for her lunch.

She broke free from your hold as you reached the end of the aisle, heading straight in the direction of the frozen chicken nuggets and pulling as hard as she could to open the door. Once she'd managed to pry the door open, she climbed inside of the freezer, attempting to reach one of the higher up shelves in search of what she wanted.

"Phoebe, sweetheart, let me help you." As you stood behind Phoebe, you put your hands under her arms, picking her up and bringing her to your height so that she could grab whatever she'd been looking for. "Turkey Dinosaurs? Good choice."

"The only correct choice, bruv." Isaac was right behind you, Colin on his left and Will on his right.

"Oh, boys, hi!" Phoebe leaned in closer towards you as the sudden appearance of the three men. While she'd exhumed confidence from the moment you'd met her a few hours ago, she seemed to shy away slightly at the sight of the three footballers. "What're you doing here?"

"Day off, innit." Isaac, never a man of many words, was quick to answer your question, though had one waiting for you in return. "Who's this?"

Phoebe's grip around your neck increased slightly again as Isaac pointed directly at her. You shifted her in your arms so that she'd face the three a bit better, knowing non of them posed any threat to her. "This is Phoebe. Phoebe this is Colin, Isaac and Will; say hi."

Now that she'd been introduced to them, a wide smile curled onto Phoebes face, her toothy grin making an appearance that had Colin and Isaac smiling right back.

"I didn't know you were a mum." Will spluttered out, staring at you and Phoebe with a rather surprised look on his face.

"Oh, I'm not," you were quick to reassure, though immediately regretted it as you had no clue how to explain how this child they'd never seen before had come into your care. You knew Roy well enough to know he loved his privacy more then anything, so you decided the best course of action was to keep it. "She's my niece."

"Cool." Isaac nodded, prompting the others to nod on silent acceptance of the knowledge they'd just gained. "Can you pass me a bag of the turkey dinosaurs, Phoebe?"

As soon as Isaac got his bag of turkey dinosaurs, he, Colin and Will were quick to leave, waving a goodbye to the two of you and getting on with the own shop. Once they'd left the aisle, you let out a loud sigh, pent up tension from the sudden reunion seeping out of your body. Phoebe dropped the turkey dinosaurs into the basket you'd picked up, wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand instead.

"Why did you tell them I was your niece?" Phoebe guided you further down the frozen aisle as she questioned your actions, walking a few paces in front of you, your connect hands dangling between the two of you.

"Your uncle Roy is a very private person," you started, unsure exactly of what was the right thing to tell a 7 year old on such a matter. "I didn't want to tell them you were Roy's niece in case they decided that meant something more"

"Something more?" Phoebe wandered out loud, stopping in front of the ice cream section and pulling the door open. "Like if they though that meant you were dating my uncle Roy."

Jesus Christ, 7 year olds were so much smarter and observant then you'd thought. "Yeah, something like that."

"And why aren't you dating?" You didn't know what to say to that, instead opting to pick Phoebe up once more so that she could reach the specific tub of ice cream she was searching for. "My mum says uncle Roy should date someone nice and you're nice."

"Well I'm glad you think I'm nice, pheeb's." You ruffled the blondes hair as you placed her back on the ground, allowing her to place the ice cream in the basket before grabbing her hand once more. "How about we grab a pizza too? Just incase you're here for tea?"

Phoebe loved the idea, sprinting down to the end of the aisle in search of the pizzas with a wide smile on her face.

The rest of your day with Phoebe had flown by, you'd come home and eaten your lunch of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles, done some colouring in, played knights and dragons, eaten your ice cream, and watched a movie. As the first spy kids had come to an end, something you'd put on at phoebes request all though you were heavily invested in it the whole time, you put the pizza she'd picked out in the oven.

"Phoebe," you shouted from the kitchen as you made your way back into the living room. "It's getting kind of late, sweetheart, do you have any pjs in your bag?"

"No," she instantly replied, licking her spoon clean of ice cream even though it only really added to the rim of vanilla that had formed around her mouth. "I don't pack pjs in my bag because I have some in my room at uncle Roy's house."

If you'd have had the common sense to ask earlier, you might've picked some up while the two of you were in Tesco, but you hadn't, and now you had to make do with what you had. "You want to get in some of my pjs pheeb's? I'll get into pjs too and then we can be all comfy while we eat our pizza and watch spy kids 2."

"I won't fit in your pjs." Phoebe countered, but got off the couch nonetheless, placing her empty bowl on your coffee table and joining you by the kitchen door. Lacing her fingers through your own she allowed you to guide her in the direction of your room.

She dove straight for the bed when you opened the door, similarly to how she'd made a b-line for your sofa earlier in the day when she'd arrived, but was quick to hop right back off of it when you opened your wardrobe doors. You stood quietly behind her as she picked out one of your T-shirts to act as a night dress.

"This one!" She proclaimed, quick to swap her current outfit for your top before sprinting out of your bedroom. Before you could ask what on earth she was doing, the oven started to beep. "Pizza's ready!"

You picked up the pile of clothes Phoebe had left behind, throwing it by her shoes at the door so that you wouldn't forget to pack them up whenever Roy came to collect her. Then you went back to the kitchen, clicking the timer off to stop the loud beeping and pulling the pizza out of the oven. Phoebe stood behind you doing some kind of 'pizza dance' as she'd called it as you cut it into 8 slices, grabbing one big plate to place it onto.

"Race you back to the sofa." Phoebe didn't need to be told twice, running for the sofa and throwing herself into the mess of blankets, pillows and felt tip pens. As soon as the two of you were comfortably settled, you put spy kids 2 on, the pair of you tucking into your dinner without a thought spared as to where Roy was or just how late it was really getting.

Though you didn't remember falling asleep, a knocking at your front door had you waking up. Sometime between pizza and now, Phoebe had crawled into your lap, and instead of waking her to go to the door, you scooped her into your arms, resting her on your hip as you stumbled sleepily from your sofa to your front door.

When you opened the door, Roy looked like he'd been prepped with an apology, something about how he'd never meant to come back so late and how he really owed you one now but his words befell him at the sight of you and Phoebe on the other side of the door.

It was a sight to behold, especially to a lovesick Roy. Your hair was all tousled and you still looked half asleep, Phoebe was fast asleep in your arms and in what he guessed was one of your shirts. "Roy," you crooned, opening the door even wider. "Come in, I just need to pack up Phoebe's stuff."

Roy shuffled into your living room, his hands still tucked stiffly in his pockets as you began to pace around the room packing phoebes things while she was still in your arms. It was a level of domesticity Roy hadn't been prepared to see when he came to pick up his niece, and it sent his head whirling.

It was almost too easy to imagine you in this position with him, and a child of your own in your arms instead. He shook the thought from his head, bending down to pick up phoebe's day clothes and shoes from beside the door as you put all her felt tips back into her bag, along with her colouring book - save the first drawing she'd done which she'd torn out, demanding you keep it to remember your day together.

When you were certain you'd collected everything from the couch that had come in her bag, and put it back where it belonged, you turned to face Roy with a sleepy smile. "How was your coaches meeting?"

A smile curled on Roy's lips, something rare that almost surprised you to see. "Good. Long. But we got shit done so I can't really complain; although it would've been nice if it could've wrapped up before fucking midnight."

"Oh my god, is it that late?" You passed Phoebe's backpack to Roy, watching fondly as he slid one strap over his shoulder like clockwork. The thought couldn't help but slip into your mind that it was a sight you'd like to see more often.

"What did you two get up to today?" Roy asked, pulling Phoebes coat from the hanger by the door and slinging it over the crook in his elbow.

"Well, we went and got some lunch, and did some colouring, and played knights and dragons and watched spy kids 1 and 2. She kept me nice and busy, don't you worry."

Roy reached out for phoebe, taking her slowly and gently from your hold in his best attempt to keep her asleep as he took her home. "Not too busy I hope."

"No just the right amount." You bit back a laugh, cautious to not wake the sleeping child now that she was safely in her uncles arms. Pushing a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail back behind her ear, you thought back fondly on the day you'd shared and how easily It was to get on with Phoebe. "She's a great kid."

"Yeah, she really is." Finally, Roy was back on your doorstep, Phoebe in his arms and the pitch black of night behind him. "Thanks again, I really owe you one."

"It's no issue, really, I had a great time." You closed your door too, you leaning against the edge of the it being the only thing keeping it open. "Always happy to do it again, if you need me."

A million different responses crossed Roy's mind, some just inappropriate and some really fucking corny, so he settled on the easiest one to say. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You responded with a small wave, creeping back into the darkness of your house without another word.

As Roy made the short walk down from your front door to his car, he tried to control the erratic beating of his heart less it wake Phoebe up. Though you'd offered to take Phoebe in again if he ever needed it, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to take you up on the offer, not when the domestic scene of you with his niece made his feelings for you even more intense.

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2. the time when Roy had too many appointments

Though Roy had sworn he wouldn't drop Phoebe off with you again for the sake of his own feelings, he was calling you up to ask if you could look after her again less then a week later. Molly had been called into work again last minute, and it just so happened to be on the day when Roy decided to get all his check ups out of the way in one fell swoop.

You'd assured him through the phone that it was okay, and that you'd absolutely love to hang out with her again, however, when you'd asked how soon he'd be dropping her off the line went quiet.

"That's the thing," Roy started, a hesitance to his tone that told you he was reconsidering this whole request and on the verge of rescheduling his 5pm dentist appointment. "You'd need to pick her up from school. I can pick her up from 7pm, at the latest, so you'd just need to pick her up from school and give her some tea. I hope that's not too big-"

You didn't let Roy finish his sentence. "It's no problem Roy, really. Send me the address and I'll be there at 3pm?"

"Pick ups at 3:10, but that's perfect, thank you." You couldn't even see him and you could feel the smile that was pulling at his lips on the other side of the phone. "I really fucking mean that too, thank you."

"It's no problem Roy, really, I'll see you later."

You had an hour before you needed to pick Phoebe up, so you made a run for Tesco, picking up a jar of pasta sauce incase she didn't want the half a bag of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles that were still in your freezer, a bag of popcorn incase she didn't want ice cream again, and a set of kids size 8 pjs.

Though Roy said he'd be back for her by 7pm, you doubted she'd want to stay in her school uniform, and it'd be better to get a size 8 and it be too big then pick up a size 7 and it be too small.

On a second thought, you grabbed a second pair of the plain pjs, and some tiny slippers, knowing it wouldn't harm anyone to keep a spare pair of comfy clothes and shoes for her incase she came by again at the last minute. While you were in the kids clothing section, you picked up a pair of jeans and a pack of plain T-shirts, wanting to be prepared incase she were to ever show up in her pyjamas instead of her day clothes. Deciding you'd got everything you needed, you sped through the checkouts and got in your car, not wanting to be late to pick up Phoebe from school.

Luckily, you arrived with 5 minutes to spare, lingering around the gate with the other parents that had come to pick up there kids. Only then did it dawn on you that you may have needed some kind of note to prove you weren't kidnapping Phoebe and as you pulled out your phone to text Roy in a frenzy, you'd discovered he'd already sent you a message.

Teacher knows you're coming, I got Molly to send a message. might ask you to sign some shit confirming you picked her up though.

Even though Roy wasn't here, you felt ten times calmer, moving through the gate as it opened and towards the classroom door furthest from it, as Roy had told you to go to. A loud bell rung and suddenly kids came sprinting out from all directions, some running straight to and out of the main gate and others nervously looking around for whoever was picking them up.

You watched as a head of blonde hair in two neat plaits lingered in the classroom door, eyes scanning the playground for a familiar face, her mouth dropping open in a gasp as she made eye contact with you. With a cry of your name, Phoebe came running from the classroom, a bright smile on her face at your sudden appearance outside her classroom. "What are you doing here?"

"Your uncle Roy has got the dentist, so we're going to go back to mine for tea - if that's okay pheeb's?"

"That's perfect! Lets go home." Phoebe tried to pull you out of the playground and back to your car, but you pulled her back to stand in front of you.

"One minute sweetheart, got to make sure your teacher knows I'm not kidnapping you." Phoebe lead you right back to the classroom door, calling on her teacher, Ms Bowen, as she dragged you into the room. "Hi, Ms Bowen, I'm here to pick Phoebe up; I think Molly told you I was coming?"

"Ah yes, Mrs Kent, it's a pleasure to meet you." Mrs Kent Mrs Kent Mrs Kent. Molly, Roy's sister, had told Phoebe's teacher that you were Mrs Kent. It took everything in you not to absolutely spiral with the new piece of information.

"Yeah, lovely to meet you," You tried to avoid Ms Bowen's gaze, it having an edge to it that suggested you weren't entirely welcome here. "Roy said I might have to sign something, so you know I'm not fucking kidnapping her or anything." As soon as the words slipped from your mouth you were apologising for them. "I'm so sorry that just slipped out."

"Well, at least I can be sure you're Mrs Kent. You and Phoebe are free to go." You barely had time to say goodbye to Ms Bowen before Phoebe was dragging you towards your car, impatiently pulling at the handle in an attempt to get in quicker and spend even more time with you. If you weren't so caught up in the fact you'd just been called Mrs Kent, then maybe you'd find her excitement even more endearing.

"So, how was school, pheeb's?"

The car ride back home was filled with another update from Phoebe on what you'd missed in the 4 days you hadn't seen each other and the 3 days of school she'd had since the weekend. Since it was a slightly longer drive back home then from Tesco, you'd even got to introduce Phoebe to some of your favourite songs.

As you pulled onto your street, Phoebe was already buzzing in her seat, desperate it seemed to get inside. Letting her make a run for the door as you got out of the car, knowing she couldn't get in without your key, you made your way around to the boot, pulling out your bag of goodies. "Got you some stuff to change into pheeb's," pulling out both the pyjamas and the normal clothes, you handed them to her, keeping the slippers in the bag still. "Go get changed and bring me your uniform when your done, yeah? I'll pop it in the wash for your mum and we can put on a movie or something until tea time."

Phoebe was sprinting off in the direction of your bedroom to change within seconds of you finishing speaking. In the two times you'd had the pleasure of meeting Phoebe she always seemed to be rushing and running about, but that was what kids were like, you guessed; even if she was the calmest child ever - and she was pretty calm compared to some of those other kids you'd seen in the playground today - you reckon you'd think she was all over the place, especially compared to yourself.

When Phoebe came back out in the plaid, pink pyjama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, she declared she wasn't hungry yet and wanted to watch spy kids 3; telling you it was basically mandatory for you finished the movie series now you'd watched the first 2. You were happy to oblige of course, Phoebe cuddling into your side as you took a seat next to her on the sofa.

Half an hour into the movie, you whispered the question of what to have for dinner to Phoebe and she perked up at the mention of pasta, allowing you to bail on the second half of the film in order to make it. It didn't take long of course, but you were wary of the fact Roy was picking her up sooner rather then later this time around.

Roy. Roy. Even thinking of the handsome coach you worked with had your thoughts spiralling. Once you'd managed to crack your way through his hard exterior, you'd found one of the most thoughtful and caring people you've ever met, and if you didn't like him already, that side of him had you falling head over heels. The Roy that brought you coffee in the mornings when he stopped to get his own, the Roy that would buy you lunch without asking if you wanted any but would kick up a fuss if anyone else tried to get him to add to that order, the Roy that left sticky note reminders on the door of your office because he knew you'd forget something, the Roy that trusted you so much he was willing to leave his niece with you on multiple occasions. Your brain had been so consumed by Roy that you'd made him up a plate of pasta, and instead of putting it back into the pot, settled with covering it in tinfoil and giving it him to take home. However, before you could call Phoebe in to ask if she wanted cheese on top of her pasta, there was a knock at your door.

In an instant, you pulled the tinfoil back off of the extra plate of pasta, and opened the bag of grated cheese, then rushed to the door, opening wide to find Roy on the other side. "You're just in time for dinner." Without thinking, or so much as a hello, how are you, or how was the dentist, you grabbed Roy's hand, pulling him inside your house and into your kitchen. "Pheeb's dinner!"

"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, running into the brunettes arms, him bending down to pick her up. As soon as she was perched in his hold, she was quick to recount the days events like she had with you a couple of hours earlier, only pausing to answer your question of 'cheese?' and taking a fistful to sprinkle on her plate whilst finishing her recap of the day.

It was only then did Roy notice that you'd already played three bowls of pasta up, even though you shouldn't have been expecting him soon enough to eat with the two of you. Carefully he put Phoebe down, handing her her bowl of pasta and urging her to get back to the sofa and eat, promising that the two of you were right behind her.

"You made me up a plate?" Roy asked, part confused and part in complete adoration. The simplicity of it; such a small action meant so much to the retired footballer. Even in his absence you'd thought of him, made extra food for him, plated it up perfectly in time with his arrival. If he allowed his thoughts to wander, he would've revelled in the warmth of the action, in how loved it made him feel - as though normalcy was something completely within his grasps. As if it was something he could easily have with you.

"Yeah, of course I did. Can't have my favourite coach going hungry, can I?" You squeezed at his hand when you called him your favourite coach, and only god knows what would've happened if Phoebe hadn't called your name from the room over. Roy was certain he would've made a move; told you exactly the kind of effect you had on him, or squeezed your hand back, or even kissed you. Though he wasn't entirely sure, he knew he wouldn't have let the moment slip through his fingers so easily.

Although, when he walked into the living room, palate of pasta in hand, he received something better then anything that could've happened in your kitchen. You and Phoebe were curled up together on the couch, her little legs thrown over your lap and a pillow on her lap for her to balance her pasta on. Phoebe's head rested against your shoulder as she ate and you turned to see where Roy was, a smile curling on your face as you saw him in your kitchen doorway, pasta in hand.

You craved the domestic scene that was now playing out before you, like something straight out of a dream.

Phoebe's favourite place on your sofa had quickly become the corner, meaning the only space available was next to you. Roy, for once in his life, took full advantage of the opportunity, sitting as close to you as he could claim was suitable and allowing himself to really enjoy the moment.

Even when dinner was long finished, the three of you were curled up together. Spy Kids 4 had been put on in order to appease Phoebe's demands that you finish the series and Roy's arm moving to the back of your couch cushions, and in turn over your shoulders, meant he'd slowly moved closer to you. The two of you spent the movie talking in quiet whispers, you filling him in on any context needed from the first three movies and him telling you about his day full of appointments. The pair of you would've happily stayed there, on your couch, cuddled up together, forever, but Phoebe's gentle snores told you it was best for them to get going.

"She's already in pjs, so you don't have to worry about that and - oh!" You left Roy in your doorway, an asleep Phoebe in his arms in a mirror image of 4 nights before. "I washed her uniform so Molly wouldn't have to."

Roy's heart was bursting at the seams at the evening you'd shared, and now this? While it may not seem like much to most people, to Roy it was everything. Not only had you offered to look after his niece on multiple occasions at the last minute, you'd gone out of your way to buy her pyjamas that fit just because she was coming by, and you'd washed her uniform to take a weight off of her mum's shoulders - who you'd yet to even meet. It's like you were trying to make him fall ridiculously in love with you.

Love.

That wasn't a word Roy was supposed to use; at least not when you were only friends. But how could he not fall in love with you? He was sure that anyone who spent more then 10 seconds in a room with you fell in love with you; how could they not? You were so easy to love; selfless and caring in a way he'd never seen before, someone truly one of a kind.

"Seriously, thank you." Roy's face entirely softened as he spoke, tension seeping out from his features to a degree you'd never seen before. "I don't think you know exactly how much this means to me and Molly."

"Oh please Roy, It's nothing-"

Roy cut you off, his hand coming to rest on your arm, his thumb running up and down your forearm. "No. It's a fucking lot - and it means a fucking lot. Just accept the thank you, yeah?"

A bashful smile creeped onto your lips, your head ducking as you suddenly became very aware of the fact Roy was looking at you and touching you. "Okay, yeah, you're welcome."

"Perfect." Once again, you got a glimpse at the dazzling smile that Roy kept reserved for only the most important people in his life, the look of it alone making your knees weak. They only got weaker as Roy leaned in closer to you, placing a chaste yet scratchy kiss to your cheek. "Goodnight."

In a daze, you murmured a 'goodnight' back, this time waiting until he'd driven off before going back inside; and even then, you stood behind your door, processing exactly what had just happened and why you hadn't returned the sweet gesture.

Roy Kent and his adorable niece were going to be the death of you.

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3. the time you were meant to be going on a date

So far, in the three hours you'd been getting ready, you'd done your eye liner, wiped one side off, redone it, wiped the other side off and redone that, at least 200 times. You just couldn't get it to look right. And when you'd expressed to Keeley that maybe this was a sign from above you shouldn't be going on this date, she'd insisted, yet again, that you had to go because she was your perfect match.

Though you'd never met the girl, Keeley was determined to set you up with her, claiming from the very second she'd walked into KJPR asking about a job, she knew she was the one for you.

Part of you thought she just wanted to help you get over Roy, especially since this was the 9th blind date she'd set you up on since you'd confided in her about your feelings for the ruggedly handsome coach. Each one she'd claimed was your soulmate and each one, so far, had turned out to be a complete and utter douche bag. Despite her failure to actually find someone compatible for you, you greatly appreciated her enthusiasm and effort.

A knock on your door had you screeching down your phone at Keeley that you weren't ready for this, but one last twirl in front of the camera, and a 'you look hot as fuck babe' from the matchmaker herself, had you ready to face your date.

To your surprise, however, when you opened the door you were met with Roy, Molly and Phoebe, all in pyjamas and Phoebe's little hands curled into tight fists that twisted into the fabric of her uncles T-shirt. It took you a second to process the scene before you before you could offer a rather confused, "Hello?"

Though this wouldn't be the first time Roy had shown up with Phoebe on your doorstep, it was the first time he'd ever shown up unannounced and with his sister in tow. "This is a bad time, isn't it." Roy's sister, who you'd come to recognise as Molly, whispered, her gaze flickering across your knee length, fitted, red dress. "You look stunning though."

"Oh my god, thank you." With the silence finally broken, it was like your brain had brought the rest of your body up to speed, offending a hand out for Molly to shake. "Molly, right? It's great to finally meet you."

"Great to meet you too, I've heard great things." General pleasantries we're exchanged between the two of you, though it wasn't as awkward as it usually was when you were meeting new people, instead it was like bumping into someone you hadn't seen in a few years but genuinely missed.

In the noise of your small talk, Phoebe took the opportunity to whisper three little words into her uncles ear. "She's so pretty."

Roy's cheeks burned as his niece said everything he couldn't, and so easily too. It was obvious you were dressed up for a date in that long, burgundy dress that hugged you just right, and he was struggling to take his eyes off of you.

"So what brings you to my doorstep at 6pm on a Monday?" You asked, hesitant to ask at all incase you touched a sore spot. Molly had never shown up with Roy when he dropped Phoebe off, which told you this was potentially more serious then his other last minute drop offs - especially when he'd never shown up unannounced before. "Not that I'm upset that you're here or anything, just a bit confused."

"Clearly, you're on your way out, so we won't bother you, we just-"

You didn't let Molly explain, pulling out your phone, and sending to a quick message to your date and to Keeley, explaining some family stuff had come up last minute and offering to go out some other time. "My evening just freed up, actually." You offered Molly a genuine smile, taking Phoebe from Roy's hold and into your own. "Why don't you go and get into your pjs Hun, and then we'll pick out a movie?"

"Do you still have my ice cream?" Phoebe asked, tilting her head to look at you better. Now she was closer, you noticed her eyes were rubbed red, almost like she'd been crying.

"Of course I do sweetheart, and I've still got turkey dinosaurs if you've not eaten dinner yet."

A sniffly 'yes please' left phoebes lips before she got down from your hold, running into the direction of your bedroom without so much as a goodbye to her mum or her uncle Roy. When Phoebe was out of earshot, you closed the door a little, talking in hushed tones. "Is everything okay? What's going on?" And with a second thought, you added. "You don't have to tell me, I didn't mean to pry."

"Phoebes dad showed up." Molly simply stated, folding her arms across her chest protectively. "He knows he's not allowed around her, and we didn't know where else to take her while we dealt with him." Your heart ached for the little girl. In the short time you'd got to know Phoebe, you'd quickly come to absolutely love her to pieces - and you couldn't understand how anyone wold want to hurt her. Phoebe was a complete and utter ray of sunshine and, considering she was only 7 years old, was one of the kindest and smartest people you'd ever met. "You didn't have to take her, if we'd have known you had plans we wouldn't have just fucking shown up."

Molly sharply dug her elbow into Roy's side as she spoke, clearly signalling that she'd thought that Roy had had the decency to ask you if you would watch Phoebe before they showed up in your doorstep. A laugh bubbled past your lips at how offended Roy got by his sisters words, a comeback never leaving his lips as you interrupted him with a smile. "It's fine, really, I love hanging out with Phoebe. Besides, I wasn't really looking forward to this date anyway."

Now that caught Roy's attention. "Why not? You look fucking great, you'd have probably had a great time too."

Rather selfishly, Roy was incredibly thankful that they'd show up unannounced, he didn't want you to go on a date, and it seemed as if you didn't either. "Keeley keeps pushing me to go on these blind dates, it's not really my thing, but she keeps insisting she's found my soulmate, so I keep going on them to appease her." You leaned in closer to the two incase Phoebe heard your next words, though considering she was related to Roy, you knew she'd heard worse. "All of them have been fucking pricks so far though."

"Good thing we showed up then, yeah."

"Yeah."

Molly looked between the two of you with a smile bit back between her teeth, trying her hardest not to give anything away as she watched the two of you. "Well, we better get going, deal with this so we can take her off your hands as soon as."

Taking Phoebe's back pack from Molly's outstretched hands, you slung it over your shoulder. "Oh don't worry about rushing back, she's more then welcome to stay the night here. Do you need me to drop her off at school in the morning?"

"Oh no, she's all finished for summer now, so you don't have to worry about that." Molly's gaze lingered on you for a while, then she pulled you into a tight hug, cradling you in such a way you felt like a kid again. "Thank you so much for this. I really mean that."

Tears threatened to pool in your eyes at the genuine thankfulness to her words. Roy had told you before that he and Molly greatly appreciated you looking after Phoebe every now and then, but this felt so different to that - it made you understand why he'd told you to just accept the thank you.

"Yeah, of course, like I keep telling Roy, anytime you need me, I'm here."

"Oh, wait." Before Roy and Molly could head back to his car, he handed you a carrier bag that he'd been holding at his side since he appeared on your doorstep. "Your tshirt, and those pyjamas. I wasn't sure if you had anymore, and kept meaning to return them to you anyway."

"Ah, thank you!" Though you never said anything when Phoebe raided your closest, she'd picked your favourite sleep shirt, and you were glad to have it back. "I got another pair of pyjamas for her in my wardrobe anyway, or she could've just used another one of my shirts; she would've been fine either way. But, thank you Roy, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, no worries, washed them for you and everything so, they're all good to go." Molly shouted a goodbye to Phoebe who had made herself comfortable in her spot on your couch, and then said one to you, thanking you again for your help. You said one last goodbye to both her and Roy, waiting on your doorstep to wave them off before going back inside to tend to Phoebe.

Once Roy had driven out of your street and had started on the journey back to his sisters place, she turned to him with a shit-eating grin on her face. Molly had been waiting years to be able to tease Roy about someone he liked, and while he'd had plenty of flings over the years, nothing was ever serious enough, and non of them were ever nice enough, that Molly felt like she could get a rise out of Roy by teasing him. This time though, she knew it was different.

"She's incredible." Molly started, keeping her gaze intently on her brother, though his remained firmly on the road. "She cancelled her date to look after Phoebe, already had a change of clothes and food for her, and she's fucking hot." Molly let out an overly loud sigh as Roy ignored her words. "So tell me why on earth you haven't made a move on her yet? Because if you don't, I certainly will."

"Fuck off." Roy grunted, his grip on the wheel tightening at his sisters words. "She's obviously not interested in me like that if she was going on a date with a fucking stranger." Now that he'd started talking on the matter, Roy was worried he'd never stop. He'd not yet had the opportunity to talk about his feelings for you, the matter being as simple as he wasn't sure who he could tell. He even went as far as considering calling a diamond dogs meeting to get the weight off of his chest, but luckily, or rather unluckily for Roy, his sister had beaten the diamond dogs to it. "I wouldn't want to ruin what we already have anyway. She's so... good, with, like, everything. She's so kind, and she cares so much about everyone else; did I tell you she made me dinner when I asked her to pick Phoebe up when I had the dentist? And Phoebe! She's so good with Phoebe and I just- fuck!"

"That hard to get the words out, huh?" Molly teased, poking her brother sharply in the arm. "You must really like her." Before Roy could interrupt with what Molly knew would be another iteration of 'fuck off,' she added. "She likes you too, y'know."

"I'm sorry," Roy gasped, eyes tearing away from the road for only a second to stare at his sister incredulously. "Did you forget she was about to go for dinner with someone who isn't me?"

"Yeah I know that stupid," Molly scoffed, folding her arms back across her chest as she sunk into the seat of her brothers car. "But I did see the way she was looking at you - the way you were looking at each other - and I'm telling you, she likes you."

"Shut the fuck up." And that was that. Molly didn't need to tease Roy any further because she knew she'd hit a sore spot. Roy really liked you, and not that it mattered but Molly really liked you too - and Phoebe absolutely loved you - but Roy was still too scared to ask you out. That was punishment enough.

Phoebe hadn't seemed phased by the departure of her mum and uncle, and a part of you was thankful for that. Though you didn't really know anything about Phoebe's dad, apart from what you'd learnt in the past 10 minutes, you were surprised to see she'd bounced back pretty quickly.

"So pheeb's, you want dinner now, or in a little bit?" Throwing yourself next to the blonde on the sofa, she was quick to cuddle into your side, wrapping both her arms around your bigger one.

"Can we have dinner now, please." She whispered into the warm skin of your arm, her fingers scratching at the fabric of your dress.

"Of course we can sweetheart." You squeezed her in for a tight hug, before standing from the couch, quickly putting on the oven and pulling the turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles out of the freezer. You lingered in the doorway as you waited for Phoebe's dinner to cook, watching as she searched for a movie to put on while the two of you ate. She seemed so much more relaxed then when you first opened the door, and you hoped it's stay that way now she was here and safe. At the beeping of the oven, your turned away from her, plating the two of you some dinner and quickly returning to the sofa.

With a pile of dinner plates and ice cream bowls on your coffee table, and a movie minutes from ending, you turned to face Phoebe with a soft smile. Brushing back the hair that had fallen into her face, you gently woke the girl, telling her that it was time for bed now. Too sleepy to fully wake up, you picked Phoebe up, opting to carry her to your guest room instead. However, when you'd tucked her in and tried to leave, she'd gripped tightly onto your hand.

"Can you stay with me?" If her quiet and sleepy state didn't have you agreeing, the knowledge she was in an unfamiliar environment would've. Even though Phoebe had been in your house plenty of times now, she'd never stayed the night before, and it was easy to understand how that might freak her out - especially on top of the night she'd had.

"Yeah. Come on then." Instead of sleeping in the guest room, you picked Phoebe right back up, carrying her to your room and putting her down on the left side of your bed. Finally having the opportunity, you sat down at your desk, pulling out a packet of makeup wipes, and wiping off the eyeliner you'd worked so hard to get right. Even though your date never got to see it, Roy did, which was even better as far as you were concerned.

Just as you'd finished brushing your teeth, in fresh pyjamas, and making a mental note to buy a toothbrush for Phoebe next time you went to Tesco, you heard a shrill cry of 'mum.' Running back into your bedroom you found Phoebe wide awake with tears in her eyes, looking around in an urgent search for the woman she'd just cried out for.

"Hey, Pheeb's," you soothed, flicking the bedroom light back on before you approached her, not wanting to freak her out more. When she recognised your face past the haze of sleep, she was quick to reach out for you and you were quick to cross the room to meet her, pulling her into a hug and rubbing soothing circles into her back. "We're at my house remember, your mum and uncle Roy had to do some stuff so you're having a sleep over with me, okay?"

It took a good half an hour for Phoebe to fully calm down, but once she had, she was out cold again. This time, you lay in bed beside her, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders to make sure she knew she was safe. Before you went to sleep yourself, however, you sent Roy a text, leaving out the details of phoebes nightmare and just keeping him updated on things.

Phoebe's out cold so don't worry about picking her up until morning. Breakfast is at 8. There will be a plate for you and Molly whenever you get here xxx

You didn't wait see if he replied, and didn't worry yourself over if three x's at the end was too many, setting an alarm for 7am and putting your phone into do not disturb.

Thankfully, you beat Phoebe and your alarm to waking up, giving you a head start on making breakfast. If you knew anything, it was that kids loved sweet stuff, and given Phoebe's affinity for ice cream, you knew waffles were exactly what she needed this morning. Ted had given you a waffle machine as part of your present in last years Secret Santa and promised you you'd find a use for it eventually, and you were slightly surprised to find out he'd been right.

You got right to work on the batter recipe that came with the machine, letting Phoebe sleep in until the point you were ready to cook them. Though she'd been reluctant to wake up at first, at the mention of waffles and ice cream for breakfast, she sprang out of bed, hesitating in your hallway as she heard a knock at the door.

"You wait here while I get it, yeah pheeb's?" Phoebe nodded silently, creeping down the rest of the hallway so that she'd be able to hear who was at the door without being seen. Although you were 90% sure it was Roy and Molly on the other side of the door, you didn't want to risk anything.

Looking through your peep hole, your suspicions were proved right. "Good morning Roy, Molly." Phoebe came sprinting round the corner at the mention of her mums name, running right into her arms as you opened the door wider for her. "Waffles and Ice cream for breakfast, think we all deserve it, yeah?"

Molly mouthed a thank you at you as Phoebe directed her towards your couch, Roy allowing you to close your front door then following you to the kitchen.

The image of you, still sleepy and in your pyjamas, hair mused and making breakfast for him and the rest of his family, made his heart twist and his stomach churn. In some cruel twist of fate, everything he wanted was right in front of him but it wasn't that which he could call his.

"I know it's non of my business," you started, placing two scoops of mix into the two waffle shaped holes in the machine Ted had bought you then closing it, flipping it over, and scooping up another spoonful of mixture ready for when these ones were done. "But, is everything okay? Are Phoebe and Molly okay now?"

Why did you have to care about his family so much? Moments like this made Roy think you knew of his feelings for you, and that you were doing every thing you could to push him to tell you. Surely you had to care for him, at the least, not everyone would do what you did for him, and definitely not with the same level of enthusiasm and genuine happiness to do it.

"Yeah, everything's okay." Roy kept it short, knowing that ultimately, it wasn't his story to share. "Are you okay? I know we kind of ruined your plans last night."

"How many times am I going to have to tell you that I didn't even want to go?" The laugh that bubbled past your lips had a smile forming on Roy's face. He loved how easy it was between the two of you here. Sure, you made him smile and laugh at Nelson road all the time, but at Nelson road he felt like he had to be Roy Kent: here, he could just be Roy, Phoebe's uncle. And you really liked Roy, Phoebe's uncle. "Besides, I had a better evening with Phoebe, and the 10 minutes I spent with you and Molly, then I would've had on the date anyway."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Roy's voice was even deeper then usual, not that you'd ever thought that was possible, from tiredness, and you'd only just noticed that he was still in his pyjamas, much like yourself. "That you wouldn't have enjoyed yourself?"

Roy leant over you, not noticing how blood rushed to your cheeks as he took the first two waffles out of the machine for you, allowing you to get the second lot started without hurting your fingers from picking up the fresh waffles. "My hearts not in it, you know?" You turned to press your back against the counter top, now chest to chest with Roy in the closest proximity you'd ever been. Neither of you made an effort to move. "The whole dating just to date isn't for me, I don't think. And if I'm going to date to, um, to marry someone, I'd much rather it be someone I know, someone who knows me."

You were worried you'd been a little too on the nose in your explanation, but Roy didn't seem to mind. He leant forward slightly so that he could rest his palms against your countertop, caging you in between his muscular arms. "Is that right?" You nodded silently, allowing your gaze to flicker down to his lips now that he was inches away from you. There was no way you were reading too much into things this time. "And, would that someone, would they have to be anyone in particular?"

"Yeah, yeah they would." You answered breathlessly, tilting your head back up so that your gaze would meet Roy's but instead brushing your nose softly against his.

Roy was finally going to do it.

A cry of your name and the padding of footsteps had Roy stepping away from you, Phoebe running into the kitchen with Molly hot on her tail. "Are the waffles ready?"

"You came at the perfect time!" You answered, brushing the moment off of you, and turning back to the slightly cooled waffles, sliding them down the counter towards Phoebe and Molly along with the ice cream scoop. As they plated up their waffles, you took yours and Roy's out of the machine, putting them onto plates and giving them time to cool before you added your ice cream on top. You watched intently as Molly and Phoebe plated up their food, your fingers drilling against the countertop in wait.

The second they'd left the kitchen and headed back to the living room, you turned to face Roy, leaving him no time to think as you grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed your lips to his. It was hot and messy, the two of you fighting to condense several months worth of building tension into one moment. At even the slightest of noises from outside the kitchen, you pulled away, turning your back to Roy immediately and scooping some ice cream onto your cooked waffle.

"Want ice cream on yours?" You asked Roy, turning to face him. His cheeks burned red and breathes heaved from his chest as though he'd just run a mile, his hair was a little more tousled then it had been when he first walked into your house and his lips were red and wet.

"Fuck the ice cream."

Roy grabbed you by your waist, twisting his fingers into the fabric of your sleep shirt to keep you close to him as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. Roy's free hand moved up to caress your cheek, his other hand snaking around to rest on your lower back, pulling you even more into him. Moving one hand up to his hair, you kept the other on his shirt, keeping him close to you. While you'd imagined Roy to be a smooth kisser, you'd never imagined the day would come where he would actually be kissing you.

At a call of both your names from Phoebe, you broke apart once more, passing Roy his ice-cream-less waffle and pushing him out of your kitchen, taking full advantage of the fact that if he sat down first, you'd have no choice to to sit basically on top of him. You were sure he wouldn't mind.

—————————————————————————

4. the time when Molly dropped Phoebe off instead

"And that's why the two of you need to get married."

Roy had been actively avoiding you since your kiss in the kitchen two weeks ago. And this was the 4th time in two weeks that Molly had asked if Phoebe could come over; two of them due to the fact both her and Roy were busy, and the other two being due to the fact Phoebe needed to have 'girl talk' with you. So far, girl talk had consisted of Phoebe listing reasons as to why you and Roy were perfect for each other.

"We're not going to get married, Pheeb's."

"But why not?" Phoebe dramatically collapsed into your sofa cushions, ignoring the fact her over the top tumble had knocked over one of your piles of folded washing in favour of going back to questioning you. "He talks about you all the time. And I see the way you look at him when he drops me off and picks me up."

"But he hasn't picked you up or dropped you off in two weeks sweetheart," you were back in the uncomfortable scenario of exposing something to a 7 year old, and you were trying your hardest not to let your confused feelings towards Roy interfere with what you wanted to say. "So, I don't think he wants to see me anymore. And that okay! But it also means we're not going to get married."

"But why not?"

"Phoebe." Your sterner tone had Phoebe sitting up right, her legs dangling over the edge of the sofa. Putting down the freshly washed t-shirt, you knelt down in front of Phoebe, taking her hands in your own and squeezing gently. "It's not that simple, sweetheart," pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, she met your eyes. "I wish it was, but it is isn't. Me and your uncle Roy aren't going to get married, Pheeb's, but I'm sure he's going to find someone amazing someday, and you're going to love them."

"But I don't want him to find someone else amazing." Phoebe sulked, tears brimming at her eyes as she thought about a future without you and Roy together. While she was definitely thinking of the worst possible outcomes, the potential it could come true alone was enough to send her to tears. "I want him to find you! I don't want my uncle Roy to marry someone else because then I'll have to hang out with them and not you and- and- and-"

"C'mere." You pulled Phoebe fully into your arms, adjusting yourself so that you were both sat comfortably on your couch. "When your uncle Roy finds someone he loves, and he wants them to be a part of your life, I'll still be here. And you can always come and hang out with me, whenever you want. That isn't going to change Phoebe. I care about you a lot, okay?"

Phoebe couldn't find the words to express what she was thinking. She wanted to scream that you were the person her uncle Roy wanted be a part of her life, that you were the one he loved. Even though she was only 7 years old, she was certain that she knew what love was: and love was the way you and her uncle Roy had sat together, eating waffles for breakfast and talking with her mum, love was the way you and her uncle Roy talked about your day in a whisper over spy kids 4 because you wanted her to enjoy the movie still, love was the way it took her uncle Roy exactly 15 seconds to decide he wanted you to look after her on that Saturday 2 months ago. But she didn't know how to say all that in a way she could get you to understand. She'd tried everything and you still wouldn't digest the crumb of Roy's love that she was trying to explain to you, so she settled on the saying the best thing she could.

"Promise?"

"On my life." You ruffled her blonde hair, causing a smile to pull at her lips. You went back to folding your washing and Phoebe went back to watching her movie, like the two of you always did.

The peaceful moment was unfortunately interrupted by a loud and quick succession of knocks at your door. You put down the shirt you'd been folding and even Phoebe paused her show to come and see who was at the door.

"Jamie? Hi, what- what are you doing here?" Phoebe seemed to have some idea, walking past you to grab Jamie by the hand and pull him to sit on your sofa.

"I invited him." You had too many questions to counter that statement, mainly how she'd contacted Jamie and why he didn't bat an eye at being invited to your house by a 7 year old. "We need to discuss uncle's day."

Phoebe had told you about uncle's day - a day to celebrate her love for her uncle Roy - but you weren't entirely sure where you and Jamie fit into that puzzle. "Why do you need me and Jamie to discuss uncle's day, Hun. I don't think your uncle Roy would want either of us to celebrate uncles day with him."

"Of course he would!" Phoebe cried, pulling out her notebook and one of her felt tip pens, flicking to a blank page in her notebook and writing 'uncles day' at the top neatly. "Jamie is his best friend and Uncle Roy loves you, of course you've got to be there!"

Before you could remind Phoebe that you'd just had a conversation about why that wasn't the case, Jamie turned to face you with a wicked smile. "I knew you and Roy had something going on."

"We don't."

"Is that why he's been all moody at training for the last two weeks?" At your silence, Jamie took it that he was correct, a gasp slipping past his lips. "Did you turn him down? Of course it's okay if you did, but why?"

"No. I didn't turn him down." Phoebe's ears pricked up at that, making you realise exactly how what you were saying sounded. "I can't turn him down if he never asked me anything."

"But something happened?" Jamie pushed, leaning his elbows on his knees, Phoebe sat in a scarily mirrored image of him beside him.

"Fuck off." You scoffed, a smile curling onto Phoebe's lips. In the weeks you'd spent hanging out with her, she'd filled you in on every inside joke she shared with her uncle Roy and everything that made him the best uncle ever. "You can bill your uncle Roy for that one Pheeb's." Phoebe flicked back to the front of her notebook, adding a line to a very long list of tally's that had accumulated there.

Jamie tightened his gaze on you, readjusting his headband so that it kept his hair out of his eyes better. If it weren't for the unwavering, and slightly creepy, nature of his gaze, you were sure you would've just kept it to yourself.

"I kissed him." You'd attempted to mouth the words at the striker, but he hadn't picked them up, instead mouthing them to himself over and over again until he loud out a loud gasp, repeating the words out loud. Phoebe let out a squeal, jumping up and down on your couch cushions in complete and utter joy. An hour ago you'd told her you and her uncle Roy would never get married and know you were admitting that you'd kissed - things were coming up Phoebe, she'd decided. "But, he hasn't spoken to me since."

"Yeah, but that's what Roy's like, you know?" Jamie extended an arm to you, encouraging you to crash down in between him and Phoebe on the couch. You took him up on the offer, curling into his side and letting Phoebe curl into yours. "He's like, super mean and cold on the outside and once he lets you get to know him, he's all... all soft. And I don't think he knows it's okay to be soft sometimes." You let your head fall against Jamie's shoulder, Phoebe nodding beside you at Jamie's words. "I think you've got to show him it's okay for him to be all soft. Cause he really does care about you, I just don't think he knows how to tell you that."

"That was," you didn't even have the words for it. Somehow, Jamie had crawled inside your brain and soothed the exact source of your worry. "That was very insightful Jamie, thank you."

"No worries, I'm proper smart when I want to be me. Plus, when you spend so much time around the guy, it's hard not to see past that façade he puts up." Jamie removed his arm from around your shoulders, rubbing his together and then loudly clapping. "So, uncles day-"

You, Phoebe and Jamie spent the rest of the after noon feasting on whatever snacks they could find in your cupboards and planning out every little detail about uncles days. The pair had convinced you to make an appearance even if you and Roy hadn't reconciled come uncles day; Phoebe wanted you there and that was enough for you. By the time 5pm had rolled around you'd offered to get started on dinner for the 3 of you, but Jamie said he'd best be heading out and Phoebe reminded you her mum was picking her up soon enough anyway.

"Pheeb's, go and get your bag your mums here." When you opened the door, however, you were surprised to find Roy on the other side of it, his hands shoved into his pockets and half facing away from you. "Oh Roy, hi, I didn't know you were picking Phoebe up."

"Me either," he grunted, staring intently at the floor as he let out a long sigh. Finally, he looked at you, shifting nervously under your gaze. He's practiced what he wanted to say at least 200 times on the way over; he knew Molly asking him to come pick Phoebe up was her pushing him to talk to you. All he wanted was to talk to you. But he was too scared of fucking things up and loosing you entirely that he'd resigned to the fact that he would just have to avoid you for the rest of his life. For once, Roy needed to just do it, to tell you how he felt and throw sensibility to the wind. If you liked him, and that kiss wasn't a heat of the moment thing, then great; if you wanted nothing to do with him? He'd figure it out. All he had to do now was-

"Jamie? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Jesus, Roy, hello to you too." Jamie scoffed, pushing his hair back and out of his eyes then folding his arms across his chest. "I was just dropping off something for Keeley. Don't get all jealous on me old man, I'm not here to steal your missus." Jamie then turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively now his back was turned to Roy. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before running down your driveway, presumably to escape the clutches of a pissed of Roy. "See you later love, you too Phoebe!"

"Bye Jamie!" Phoebe shouted, waving enthusiastically at her new friend then turning to her uncle Roy with a frown. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."

"Bill me." He took Phoebe by the hand, taking her backpack in his other and walked away from your doorstep without so much as another word to you. Phoebe yelled a goodbye before she get in Roy's car but Roy continued to ignore you, even as you waited on your doorstep to wave them one last goodbye.

Roy spent the whole drive back to molly's and the rest of the evening absolutely kicking himself. Part of him wished he'd just come out and said it while he had you alone on your doorstep, but the worse part of him - the part that didn't believe he was worthy of you - told him Jamie being there was a sign it wasn't the right moment. And maybe, he thought, the right moment would never come.

Jamie was right. You were going to have to be the one to show Roy it was okay to be soft; especially with you.

—————————————————————————

5. the time where Roy told you how he felt

Phoebe had kicked up a fuss when she found out she was going to have to spend the night at her uncle Roy's, which was a massive surprise to everyone involved. It was well known that Phoebe loved spending time with her uncle Roy, and no matter what Molly or Roy said to her, they couldn't get a confession out of her as to why she didn't want to sleep at her uncle Roy's tonight.

When Molly had dropped her off, for the first time in years, Phoebe cried at the though of her mum going to work, and that told Roy enough that he was in for an eventful night.

He'd tried absolutely everything. He'd offered pizza, turkey dinosaurs, spaghetti, ice cream, popcorn and every favourite food she'd ever had in an attempt to wipe that frown off of her face, but nothing had worked. He'd even willingly been the princess in princess and dragons, put on a fucking tiara and tutu and she still didn't budge from her place on his couch. When bed time finally rolled around, he'd spent 6 hours in silence with Phoebe, a frown etched onto her poor, little face that all he wanted to do was turn into a smile.

The first sound he got out of Phoebe all day was a loud and shrill cry of your name at 4am. Roy ran for the first time in months from his bedroom to hers, terrified as to what could have his niece crying out for you in the early house of the morning. When he arrived on the scene, he was met with Phoebe sat upright in her bed, tears spilling down her cheeks and her hair sticking up in every direction. Her tiny fingers were death gripping a teddy bear that Roy had bought her when she was a baby and when she saw Roy in her doorway, her sobs only got louder.

Roy was quick to cross the length of the room, scooping his niece into his arms and holding her tightly against him, whispering soothing words into the crown of her head and running his fingers up and down her arm. Usually, this method would have Phoebe back asleep within half an hour, but as the clock pushed closer to 5am then 4am, he knew things were different this time. With each sob came a long pause, filled with shaking of shoulders and sniffles galore, and the occasional whimper of your name. Whatever had upset her, clearly wasn't going to be fixed with the usual uncle Roy remedy, and so Roy picked Phoebe up, slipping on his slippers and walking out his front door with his car keys in hand.

While the drive to your house had never been quick, it felt even longer then usual today. Phoebe spent the whole drive over still sniffling, and even though her tears had stopped flowing, the ache it caused in Roy's heart made it feel like they'd never stopped. In his whole life, he'd only seen phoebe this inconsolable a handful of times, and even then, she'd always been responsive to his attempts to find out what was wrong. The fact she kept calling out your name amidst her tears made his heart ache all the more.

It was no secret that since he first dropped phoebe off at your house all those weeks ago, the two of you had become practically attached at the hip. He loved phoebe, and as much as he tried to deny it, he loved you, and he loved that two of the most important women in his life loved each other, but he didn't think he was ever going to be brave enough to let you in in the way the he wanted to. Phoebe had happily voiced her opinions on the matter the last time he'd picked her up from your house, happily proclaiming that the two of you needed to get married yesterday and live happily ever after with 2 dogs and a family trip to Disney world. Roy had told her the two of you weren't going to get married and Phoebe had scoffed, saying that you'd said the exact same thing and she didn't understand why when you loved each other.

If he wasn't so distracted by how distraught Phoebe seemed, he'd have maybe taken the time to consider this was some wicked scheme she'd concocted.

When he pulled up outside your house, like he expected for 5am, all your lights were off, but with a still teary-eyed phoebe in his arms, he didn't think twice about knocking on your door with enough vigour you'd think his life depended on it. As far as Roy was concerned, it did.

Once he saw your hallway light flicker on, he let out a sigh of relief, a weight being lifted from his shoulders as you approached the door. The soft glow of the hallway light far behind you made you look more like the Angel Roy thought you were, your hands wiping at your eyes as you tried to wake up. Before you could ask what was going on, or why Roy and Phoebe were on your doorstep so early on this summers morning, Phoebe was throwing herself from Roy's arms with a cry of your name, blubbering into you shoulder the most words she'd said in the past 12 hours. "I had a nightmare."

In that moment as Roy watched you take his niece into your arms and comfort her more in 10 seconds then he had seemed to be able to do in an hour, he knew Phoebe was right that day in the car.

He was in love with you, and he was pretty sure you were in love with him too.

Roy closed your front door behind him, following behind you as you carried phoebe towards your bedroom. He couldn't hear what you were saying to her, but he could see how easily she relaxed in your hold - it made him relax knowing that whatever had plagued her nightmares was being calmed, even if it wasn't by him.

As you finally entered your bedroom, your bedsheets tousled from when you'd got up to answer the door minutes ago, Phoebe had dropped back to sleep in your arms. You weren't entirely sure if it was your words that had sent her back to sleep or if she'd tired herself out from crying so much, but you didn't dwell on it, tucking her into your bed and pressing a kiss to her head. Turning around, you found Roy leaning against your doorframe, the tight, grey shirt not leaving much to the imagination as to what was underneath it. Taking him by the hand, you pulled him back down your hallway and into your kitchen, leaving him in the doorway, you clicked the kettle on and pulled two large mugs out of your cupboard.

"Can't believe you got her talking." Roy whispered, suddenly very conscious of the fact it was 5:30 in the morning and you were no where near awake as he was. "I couldn't get a word out of her, except your fucking name."

You nodded as he spoke, putting a tea bag into each before and then, when the kettle had whistled and clicked, filling them 3/4 full of hot water. "So, she didn't tell you what her nightmare was about?"

"Wasn't even entirely sure it was just a nightmare until I heard her say it here."

"She thinks you're not going to let her see me anymore if you marry someone else." You'd both heard tearful stories from Phoebe about how scared she was that you two weren't talking anymore, but you'd never realised just how much it was affecting her. "I've talked to her about it before, you know, promised her I'd always be apart of her life even when you found someone you were going to marry, but I didn't think it was stressing her out this bad."

Roy didn't take a sip of his coffee when you passed it to him, instead looking at you confused while you took a long sip of yours. "What makes you think I'm going to marry someone else?"

"Well, you know what I mean Roy." You took another long sip of coffee, waking up more and more with each drink. "We're not going to get married, and I don't want phoebe thinking that you're not allowed to live your life and keep me in it."

"Why are we not getting married?" Roy's question had you stuttering and stumbling to try and make a sensible and coherent answer. It was one thing for him to show up at the crack of dawn and speak to you for the first time in weeks. It was another for him to now be suggesting he wanted to marry you. "I'm not sure if you realised, but I don't just go around introducing Phoebe and Molly to everyone... and I don't go around kissing just anyone either."

"Well, that's rich," you scoffed, using both hands to bring the warmth of your coffee closer to your face. "I'm not sure if you realised, but a normal person doesn't kiss someone like that, and then go no contact with them for nearly a month."

"Kiss someone like that, huh." Roy placed his untouched coffee down on your kitchen counter and took two steps closer to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he was now right in front of you. Though when you thought on it, he always had been. "And what exactly does that mean." Roy let his thumbs run over the exposed skin between your T-shirt and your pyjama shorts, the gentle motion sending tingles down your spine and causing you to arch yourself slightly into him. The smirk that formed on his face told you things were playing out how he wanted.

"You know," you whispered, letting Roy take your coffee cup from your hands and place it beside you on the counter. "Like," he gently cradled your hands in his larger ones, moving them to rest on his shoulders becket letting his fall back to your hips. "Like you want to be with them, like you-"

Roy cut your words off by pressing his lips to yours, using the momentum of his movement to tilt your head back, allowing him to get a better angle as he pushed his tongue past your lips. Quickly, you pushed him off of you, not giving him the chance to get a word in edge ways before you began to speak. "You can't keep kissing me like that, or at all actually, if you don't want this, us, whatever we are, to become something. Because I want it to become something." Jamie's words echoed though your head. Maybe you had to be the one to show Roy that it was okay to be soft sometimes, to let people in.

"I love how kind you are beneath all the gruff and cold exterior you try to put up. I love how fiercely you love Molly and Phoebe. I love how you leave little sticky notes on my office door so I don't forget to do things. I love how you bring me coffee in the mornings when you get your own. I love that you buy me lunch and get all grumpy when someone else tries to add on to the order." Sweeping your thumb across the middle of his brown, you brushed away the tension that had clearly been building there since the moment you'd pushed away from his kiss. "I love how your face gets all scrunched up when your confused and how you have the most wonderful smile I've ever seen but only let the people you love get a glimpse at it. I- I love you, Roy, but I can't handle you liking me one minute and ignoring me the next. I need you to open up to me about what's going on inside you head."

Roy pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving one hand up to cradle your face. If his heart wasn't already so full of you, it would've been now. Even though he'd known he was in love with you before this conversation in your kitchen, it had really consolidated to him why he was in love with you. You loved Roy Kent, Phoebe's uncle, lunch buyer and wonderful smiler.

"I've never been told I have a wonderful smile before." He pressed another kiss though this time it was to your temple, and the another to the end of your brow. "That's probably because you're right, I only show it to the people I love." Another kiss was pressed just below your eye, the scratchiness of his beard against your cheeks eliciting a giggle from you. "And I really fucking love you."

Roy leaned in for another, proper, kiss, though you dodged it allowing it to land on your cheek instead. "Is there anything else you wanted to say?"

Roy let out a loud groan, your head thrown back in laughter at the image before you. He shook his head at you though the wide and bright smile you loved never left his face. "I'm sorry I ignored you for 3 and a half weeks because I was a grumpy sod who couldn't talk about his feelings like a fucking grown up."

You hummed happily, nudging your nose against his, a smile now curled onto your own lips. "Yeah, that'll do just nice." Standing on the tips of your toes, you wrapped both your arms around his neck, pulling the two of you together. "Now, C'mere."

Roy happily complied, pressing his lips firmly to your own in a mess of groans and tongue, only pulling apart when you couldn't contain your smile any longer. Even then, he pressed a series of quick kisses to your lips moving them up across your cheek, along the tip of your ear and then down the side of your neck. You tilted your head to rest against his left shoulder, giving him better access to the right side of your neck, but before things could escalate any further, you gently pushed him away from you. "Phoebe is a room away."

"You've got a guest bedroom though, right?" Roy purred, resuming his attack on your neck, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

"She'll be up in an hour or so." You tried to deter Roy further although you didn't particularly have your heart in it, wanting more then anything to continue what you'd started now that the pair of you had everything out in the open.

"I can do a lot in half that time." He countered, his grip on you tightening a fraction and the kisses he was pressing against your neck now having scrapes of teeth to them.

Grabbing Roy by the chin, you turned him to face you, pressing a soft and slow kiss to his lips. "Please, with what I've got in mind, it's going to take at least twice the time we have." You revelled in the look of pleasant surprise that crossed Roy's features, pressing another kiss to his lips. Now that that was something you could do whenever you wanted, you weren't sure you were ever going to stop; he was just so kissable. "Want to help me make breakfast?"

"Where do you need me?"

You and Roy danced seamlessly around each other as you prepared breakfast for the two of you and Phoebe, sneaking kisses between exchanges of ingredients or just because you could. When things were nearly ready and it was just past 7am, you went to wake Phoebe up, careful not to startle her after the long night she'd had. Since you hadn't discussed with Roy anything about you telling Phoebe, you didn't mention it, letting her sandwich herself between the two of you as you ate breakfast together over reruns of adventure time.

Part of you couldn't believe that everything had pretty much worked out how you wanted it. Sure, it wasn't a nice feeling when Roy left you in the dark after sweeping you off your feet, but ultimately, the two of you were together, and with Phoebe snuggled between the two of you on your couch, you had a glimpse of the domestic life you'd dreamed of.

Roy was thinking something similar, looking at you and phoebe beside him. Something so simple as eating breakfast together had him dreaming of a future, that a few months ago, he never would've thought would be within his grasp. He could already picture a scene like this but with you slightly older, and still as beautiful as ever, two kids snuggled between you and a dog or 3 curled up at his feet. He hoped one day the image would be as real as the one before him right now.

"Shit, what time is it?"

"8am."

"We need to get going soon." Both you and Phoebe turned to Roy in confusion, heads similarly tilted in a way that had him fawning over the both of you. "Your mum is picking you up at 9am and you need to be dressed and ready to go, Pheeb's."

"Tell Molly to pick her up from here," you said, taking Phoebe's empty plate and stacking it on top of your own. Placing them both down on the coffee table, you turned to Phoebe with a soft smile. "There T-shirts, jeans and some shoes in my wardrobe, next to where I keep your pj's, yeah? And you know where your tooth brush is, don't you?" Phoebe nodded her head, still chewing her food, but with a kissed pressed to her temple, she was sprinting off in the direction your bedroom.

"You have day clothes here for phoebe? As well as pyjamas?" Roy whispered, a bright smile forming on his face for the millionth time this morning. This was a sight you were never going to get sick of.

"Yeah. I picked the day clothes up when you asked me to pick her up from school the first time, and then after you and Molly took her home after she slept over, I figured it couldn't hurt to also get a tooth brush and some other stuff. Just incase she ever needed them."

You'd never seen so much love and adoration in one persons eyes. "I fucking love you, did you know?"

Before you could respond, the padding of feet all the way down your hallway and across your living room filled your ears. "So you are getting Married?"

a/n : if you made it this far hello!! thank you for reading my first ted lasso fic, feel free to leave feedback and/or send in a request to my inbox!! much love <33 mwah

#ted lasso x reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent one shot #roy kent

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redclercs · 11 months

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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #cl16 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x you

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

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gojo satoru x reader fic recs (I)

‣ now that i've got loads of free time, thought why shouldn't i use it well by showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect and attention? ^_^

‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters nor the above gif. enjoy reading! 🥰

⌀ all that is solid [series] by GrilledTandooriSmoke on ao3

one of the best series there is. period. the fluff, the angst, the drama, the humor, the romance, the friendship, the plot, the dialogues - everything is top-notch in this series, i'm telling you. bonus points for being narrated in both reader's and gojo's pov.

⌀ The King is But a Man [series] by Petrichorium on ao3 (@petrichorium on tumblr)

royal!gojo who's terribly in love with the reader x reader who's equally (but way more discreetly) in love with gojo. add to that, the trope of childhood sweethearts reunited as adults, excellent communication between the couple and a wonderfully-crafted world and dialogues - what more could you ask from a series?

⌀ Ten to None (Soulmate AU) (oneshot) by Oreosmama on ao3

a fic which i adore with every fibre of my being. i will not say anything more about this, except to request you to go read this. you'll love it. (especially the fantabulous ending. btw, did i already say how much i'm in love with how well-written this fic is?)

⌀ Scarred [oneshot] by cainis on ao3

one of the best angst-with-a-happy-ending fic there is. i wish i could give thousands of kudos for the heart-wrenchingly amazing way the author has portrayed gojo's character here.

⌀ Mother of otherness, Eat me [oneshot] by itsbaby on ao3

one of the most beautiful works i've read so far. told from yuuji's pov, it explores gojo and reader's relationship and its nuances in a way seldom done before. however, what stole the show for me, was the soft and sweet mother-son duo the reader and yuuji grow to be in this fic. i really love this one-of-a-kind masterpiece.

⌀ something sweet [oneshot] by heresan on ao3 (@pretty-toru on tumblr)

i love love love this fic. it's so fluffy, so funny, so cute, so heart-warming... just read this fic, people. you won't ever be disappointed by the dynamics reader and gojo have in this one. one of my all-time faves, tbh.

⌀ teen dad Gojo [series] by pantao on ao3 (@seravphs on tumblr)

a sweet and realistic depiction of reader and gojo being teenaged parents to young megumi, all the while they try to figure out their feelings for each other. a perfect mixture of fluff, angst, drama, slice-of-life and romance, imo. (also, the author's notes are pure gold. whatever you do, please don't miss reading them! :D)

⌀ To see those eyes I prize above mine own (twoshot) by koyama on ao3

if you wish to watch godlike!gojo willing to let go of his powers, out of guilt and immense, immense, protective love for the reader, this is the ideal fic for you. i'm in awe of the way the writer wrote gojo's complex persona and the way the sorcerer realized his feelings for the reader. (the second chapter's the cherry on the cake. it's so good!!!!)

⌀ keeping up with the fushigojos (series) by @augustinewrites on tumblr

fluff? A+; angst? A+; drama? A+; characterization & dialogues? A+; humour? A+++++. a sureshot way to end a long hectic tiring day on a happy note is to read this series. (my go-to comfort series, ngl. :])

⌀ CAT & DOG (oneshot) by @mimiriko on tumblr

an adorable fic of gojo being in love with the reader, who knows, yet doesn't really know, much about it. plus, the feline-like features of gojo are sooo cute... and this fic is sooo sweet... the story left me smiling when i finished reading it.

⌀ surely summer wasn't over yet [3 chapters] by 3rdgymbros on ao3

an amazing fic set against the backdrop of the hidden inventory arc. the portrayal of the characters and their dynamics is simply impeccable. despite my kind-of-dislike towards this particular arc of the manga, i really enjoyed reading this one.

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #kit's fic recs 📚

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joannechocolat · 12 days

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Content Warning: contains scenes of graphic kindness; wokery; tolerance; profanity.

A few days ago, I posted a little Twitter poll, asking readers (and authors) what they thought of trigger warnings. I followed this up with a short thread, outlining my own thoughts on this, and how they have changed over the years.

The Daily Mail immediately seized the idea, and without contacting me, or asking for further clarification, published an article quoting my words, under a headline that was both inflammatory and untrue: Trigger warnings should be put on EVERY book to make readers feel 'safe', Chocolat author Joanne Harris says.

Predictably, this caused a frenzy of reaction from Daily Mail readers and Twitter trolls, including accusations of censorship and “pandering to moronic snowflakes”. Several people (who I suspect, have never even picked up one of my books) swore never to read them. One charmer wrote: “Fucking pathetic. What a dick the author must be.”

I don’t blame the writer of the article; most clickbait headlines are added by someone else - in this case, by someone who couldn’t even be bothered to read the article, let alone my original thread. It has since been quietly changed, presumably in response to my comments, although once again, without any communication with me. But as a result of these comments (and some more polite ones from people asking about the poll), I think it’s time I made it clear, both where I stand on trigger warnings, and why the public perception of them, fuelled by culture wars debates, is both skewed and inaccurate.

First, the result of my poll: about 35% of the people who answered were in favour of some kind of content warning. About 30% were against, and the rest were undecided, curious about the result. To me this suggests that most people are generally positive or undecided on the subject. From the comments, it seemed to me that many of the people who were against trigger warnings were afraid they might lead to censorship, or spoilers, or editing of the classics, or stopping people from reading the classics, or authors losing the right to free speech.

But here's the thing. Trigger warnings are nothing to do with those things. Here’s why people have been misled, and why it matters to put things straight.

First, this expression; “triggered.” Like “woke” and “snowflake” it has been weaponized to mean something like “upsetting the libs.” Reader, that's not what it means. The concept of triggering only applies to someone with PTSD or some kind of serious psychological trauma. That makes it irrelevant to politics. Anyone can have trauma. Anyone is potentially vulnerable to mental illness. And that’s why trigger warnings exist; to warn people who might suffer a relapse, or some other kind of serious harm, if exposed without warning to certain images, scenes or narrative strands. Some of the obvious ones might be sexual violence; graphic images; mental illness; eating disorders; suicide. I’m sure there are lots more. But we’ve had content warnings (if you prefer) on films for decades without any resistance, and TV shows routinely flag up scenes with flashing images, etc. that might trigger (that word again) an epileptic seizure in anyone susceptible.

And yes, it makes sense. I mean, why would you want someone to have a seizure if you could just warn them against it? Who but a sadist would argue that people with epilepsy should be forced to have seizures, or that having regular seizures will make them more resilient somehow, or that people afraid to have seizures should just stop watching films and TV altogether, or that warnings against flashing lights would somehow spoil other people’s enjoyment of the show? And yet those are all things that people have said to me recently about content warnings.

To me content warnings in books are like content warnings on packaged food. Most people don’t read them, unless they have a special interest or need to know. Why do they need to know? There might be any number of reasons. Maybe they’re vegan, and want to avoid eating animal products. Maybe they have a religious dietary restriction. Maybe they have a mild allergy to peanuts or to shellfish. Or maybe it’s a more a serious allergy that could even result in their death. Either way, details are useful. Content warnings in books are the same, except that instead of triggering a physical attack, certain things trigger a mental one.

I'm not talking here about things that might simply cause offence. I sometimes use profanity in my books; I sometimes write about topics that people may find challenging. That's not going to change. I won't add content warnings for swearing, or nudity, or paganism, or LGBT issues. None of those things cause trauma, though I'm willing to believe they may in some cases cause offence.

But mental trauma is just as real as any physical injury. It’s not just “in your head”. It requires adjustments in the same way that any other condition may require adjustments - whether that's a wheelchair ramp, or subtitles on TV, or studs on the pavement to help the blind.

And yet, the culture wars narrative – led by a right-wing media - is leaning increasingly towards a “survival of the fittest” mentality; repeatedly encouraging able-bodied people to question disability, white people to question racism, rich people to question poverty, and urging those who have never experienced mental trauma to dismiss the needs of those who struggle with it daily. Empathy and kindness are presented as political gestures, earning “woke points” (whatever they are), rather than the elements of basic human decency. And of course, people who talk about “decency” in the context of nudity, LGBT issues and profanity often see no problem in labelling themselves “anti-woke”, or sneering at the “Be Kind brigade”, or making dismissive judgments about the lives of people they will never know. Somewhere along the line, somehow, basic human kindness has been reframed as a tool of the left, and those who hold right-wing opinions are encouraged to reject it.

Well, fuck that. People are better than this. Some people need content warnings, and it’s not up to you or me to decide whether their need is valid or not. That’s why, from now on, I’ll be adding including content warnings to my books, and to my author website. Ignore them or not, as you choose.

But to those who are offended by the concept of inclusion, here’s a trigger warning just for you: Contains tolerance; scenes of moderate kindness; depictions of graphic wokery. Read my books at your peril. Or don’t. Isn’t freedom marvellous?

#writing #trigger warnings

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joodlepo · 2 years

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Stray Kids Reactions / To Squirting (18+)

Summary / After an intense fucking session, Stray Kids' members are left in a state of post-orgasmic bliss. However, each member is left with their own unique reaction to seeing you squirt for the first time!

A/N / Hello~! I'm very excited to say that I'm officially taking requests right now, so if you want to request something from me, feel free. I'm not a professional writer or anything, but I can try my best! Please make sure to read my requests guidelines first before requesting! Thank you!

Pairings / (Top) Every Member + (F) Reader

Word Count / 11.0k

Warnings / Squirting, Spanking, Bondage, Choking, Humiliation, Fingering, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, Roughness, Aftercare, Hard Domination,

Bang Chan / A series of hard smacks fell flat against your ass, each one making your flesh ripple and sting. You couldn't help but wince, the pain was almost too much to take in. Chan wasn't going easy on you; and he wanted this as bad as you did, if not more so.

Your body felt like it would burst into flames at any moment, with all that heat rushing through every inch of your skin. He didn't stop until you were sobbing out loud for him to let up, begging him silently between gasps for air to please just give you a break, before you passed out right here. The humiliation that burned inside you was even worse than the fire burning within your cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Chan said softly, once you had quieted enough to hear him over your own breathing. "But, I have to make sure my babygirl learns her place~"

His tone became more gentle when he spoke, and you knew exactly what he meant by that sentence. You whimpered quietly beneath him, while tears began to stream freely down your face. It hurt so badly...

No. You have to endure it.

You loved this man too much to ever tell him no or walk away. Even now, laying helplessly under his firm grip and heavy palm, you wouldn't dream of doing anything other than taking whatever punishment he dished out, however harsh it may be. His love for you was far greater than the pain he could inflict upon you, after all.

So, instead of crying out in despair, you simply held yourself perfectly still and endured his assault without complaint, only letting out soft whimpers of agony whenever he struck a particularly painful spot on your rear end, which seemed to happen often.

"Ahh..." You mewled softly, biting back another cry as yet another slap rang loudly off your butt cheek. "Chan, p-please—"

Chan growled lowly in response, tightening his hold around you, before pounding himself deeply into you with renewed vigor, eliciting a fresh round of cries from both of you. Trembling beneath him, you felt weak and shaky, completely unable to do anything else but hold onto the bedsheets tightly and grit your teeth together as he thrusts into you mercilessly, ignoring how wet he'd made you already.

Every thrust sent sharp bolts of pleasure coursing through your lower regions, making them throb madly and beg for release, though you refused to allow it, at the risk being punished even further.

"Shhh... babygirl." He cooed soothingly, rubbing circles along your backside where he'd hit you most harshly. " It'll be okay soon... Just hang in there a bit longer, alright?"

The thought of enduring more punishment filled your mind, but you forced yourself to nod anyways. You weren't about to disappoint him either way.

As always, Chan's words proved true within moments. He began to slow down, giving you time to catch your breath between each thrust. After several long seconds, he began to move again, slowly at first, then faster and harder as the passion built inside you. Soon enough, he picked up speed dramatically, slamming into you roughly over and over until you cried out incoherently, shaking uncontrollably underneath him.

Each deep plunge left you feeling raw and exposed, causing an intense wave of sensation to wash over your entire body as he plundered you relentlessly, leaving nothing untouched save your poor, abused bottom.

"Ahh! Fuck... I-I can't take anymore!" You gasped, writhing wildly beneath him.

Chan swiftly continued to ignore you, pounding into you forcefully regardless, driving you closer and closer towards climax. With a gasp, you came undone, screaming wordlessly into the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you, sending you spiraling deeper into oblivion with each passing second. Panting and trembling, you tried desperately to get some semblance of composure, but found that impossible given the intensity of your orgasm.

All sense fled from you as the blissful euphoria consumed you, leaving only your core pulsating with unending desire, yearning to feel Chan's touch once more. However, one single action stopped him dead in his tracks.

Your eyes shot open wide in surprise as you started to squirt all over his cock, drenching him with your juices. Your legs quivered violently beneath you, buckling slightly as you trembled and shuddered with pleasure. At last, Chan slowed his pace considerably, allowing you to come down from your high slowly. When he finally pulled free of you, you collapsed bonelessly against the mattress, panting heavily and staring blankly ahead.

For a good minute, neither one of you moved. Chan was in complete shock, his jaw hanging slack and his hand frozen halfway toward your ass. On the other side, you were utterly mortified. Not because of the fact that you just orgasmed like a slutty little whore, but rather, the fact that you had done so right in front of him.

The very thought of him seeing your naked body sprawled out across his bed, glistening with your arousal, turned you beet red, despite everything.

"Woah... what happened? Are you alright?" He asked nervously, moving forward gingerly to check on you.

You nodded shyly, blushing furiously. "I'm fine..."

Still unsure of whether he should believe you or not, Chan sat beside you and gently brushed your hair aside. "Are you sure? You uhm... squirted pretty hard there..."

"Y-Yeah, I did. I'm sorry if I had ruined the mood for us," You said apologetically, averting his gaze from him.

Chan's brow furrowed worriedly, and he leaned down to give you a kiss. "It's okay. That was actually kinda hot. Maybe I should start being rough more often..."

"R-Really?!" You exclaimed excitedly, tilting your head up to look at him.

A mischievous grin spread across his face, dimples appearing in his cheeks and causing you to smile bashfully in return. "Mhm. Just as long as you keep squirting for me, babygirl~"

The two of you shared another quick peck, before he began to pleasure your insides with his fingers, coaxing out several small aftershocks from your sensitive pussy.

His thumb rubbed teasing circles around your clit while his finger worked its magic, bringing you quickly back to full strength. As much as you wanted him to continue, however, he knew better than to push your limits any further tonight. Instead, he simply teased you mercilessly, prolonging the inevitable by making you wait for it.

Lee Minho / Minho's moist tongue didn't hesitate to plunge itself deep into your pussy, causing you to gasp audibly. The feeling of his lips on your clit was incredible — almost too much to bear at first. He lapped up every drop that spilled out from between your legs, then going back for more. You were so turned on by the sight of him devouring you like this; it made your insides softly melt away into pure pleasure.

His hands stroked down over your thighs as he ate you, pressing against them in a way that felt quite intimate. Your whole body tingled all over when he did this, especially where his fingers dug into your skin. It wasn't long before you began buckling under the pressure of how good everything felt. You couldn't take anymore without coming...

"Minho," You whimpered softly, "I'm gonna—"

"You better not." Minho threatened darkly, shoving two thick fingers inside you, curving them so they rubbed directly across your g-spot while still thrusting his tongue hard and fast along your throbbing clit. "Don't even think about cumming until I tell you to... or else. Got it?"

He punctuated each word with another lick, and the stimulation sent waves rippling through you, causing goose bumps to break out all over your arms and shoulders. Everything seemed far away now, except for those delicious sensations flooding through your entire being. They grew stronger until there was no stopping what happened next. A sharp gasp escapes, and suddenly your stomach lurched violently.

The room began to spin around you, making your head spin even more than it already had been. But instead of falling off the bed or passing out altogether, something else took control: your orgasmic bliss.

All of it washed over you like a wave, crashing down upon you one last time. This new sensation was close to giving you such an intense release unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. Still, you did your absolute best to hold it back — knowing full well how Minho would react if you didn't, but also wanting desperately to prolong what felt like the most amazing thing imaginable.

"Don't stop!" You cry out loudly, grabbing onto Minho's hair tightly as he continues eating you out rather greedily. "Fuck! Don't stop, don't fucking stop, please just keep going... I can't take no more..."

"Needy little bitch," He growls, continuing to lap up every bit of cum that spills from within you. You're panting heavily, trying desperately not to lose consciousness. "Although, hearing you beg me to do things is kinda hot~"

Minho pulls his mouth away, licking his lips slowly.

He looks up at you with a wicked grin on his face, which only makes your heart skip several beats in response. No doubt, he knew exactly how sexy he looked right now, looking all smug and satisfied after pleasuring you so thoroughly. Then, without warning, he grabs you roughly by the hips and flips you over. You squeak loudly, but only because of the suddenness of it all, otherwise you wouldn't have cared about being manhandled.

As soon as you lay face down on the sheets, Minho sits back up, lifting both your legs high above your head. Before you can protest, he takes advantage of this position and enters, pushing himself deeper each time. With your lower half raised in the air, there isn't anywhere for you to go except forward. And once again, you feel completely powerless to resist. You're held firmly in place as Minho begins pounding you mercilessly, his cock sliding easily and deeply within you.

There's nothing stopping him from doing whatever he wants, and you know it.

Suddenly, you felt your own mind going blank. There's nothing but pleasure. Nothing but Minho. As he pounds into you harder and faster, your body begins to shake uncontrollably. You squeeze tight around his shaft, trying to pull him even further inside you. Every part of you feels hypersensitive, like your nerves are firing off signals at random. Even breathing becomes difficult.

Out of nowhere, you feel a intense surge of juices burst out from between your legs, coating Minho's cock. You gasp aloud, surprised at yourself, but you don't care. Liquid drips down onto your inner thighs, pooling around your knees. Your eyes roll back into your head, and you start moaning louder and louder, unable to help it.

Everything around you seems distant, fading quickly away.

Your whole world is reduced to Minho's cock plunging relentlessly inside you, filling you entirely. Over and over again, he buries himself deep inside you, taking all of your essence and leaving none behind. It's almost painful, feeling every inch of him stretching you wide open. Yet somehow, that pain is turned to pure ecstasy.

All too suddenly, Minho stops, pulling his dick out of you with a loud pop. You let out a disappointed moan, reaching blindly toward him. A second later, though, you hear him laugh.

"Damn," He says playfully, "Look at all the juice you made for me~!"

His words bring you back to reality. Forcing your eyelids open, you look down between your legs. Sure enough, a large puddle of clear liquid has formed underneath you, covering folds of your skin in sticky strands of fluid. You reach down to touch it, then immediately recoil when you realize what you've done.

"Shit," You say out loud, wiping the mess off your hand onto the sheet beneath you. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? This?" Minho asks, sounding amused. "You should feel proud. That stuff was pretty much the sexiest thing I think I've seen yet."

"Sexy?" You ask incredulously, glancing up at him. "Are you serious? We were just—"

Before you can finish your sentence, Minho leans down and kisses you hard on the lips. His tongue slips past your parted lips, exploring your mouth eagerly. You whimper softly, still shocked by how quickly everything happened. But before long, you find yourself kissing him back, letting him lead the way. His hands move up your sides, cupping your breasts possessively. They bounce slightly as he squeezes them, causing you to squeal lightly.

"Just what? Just started having sex?" Minho teases, leaning back up and smirking. "That doesn't count."

"Shut up," You reply with an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes. You glance down at the mess you made, noticing for the first time how wet your thighs actually are. The bedsheets were soaked through, and there's no denying it; you came quite a bit during those last few minutes. Not that you minded, of course.

Seo Changbin / Changbin's hand gently wrapped around your throat, carful to not hurt you. You whimpered and squirmed as he leaned in closer so his lips could kiss yours softly on the neck. He slowly ran a finger along your jawline down, and towards your earlobe, where it would rest for just an instant, before sliding back up again. His breath was hot against your skin, and you shivered from head-to-toe with anticipation of what else he had planned.

Your hands were free now that they weren't holding onto him anymore, but Changbin didn't seem inclined to let go yet. Instead, he began tracing lines all over your body; starting at your collarbone then moving upwards until his fingers found their way under your shirt. The moment he touched bare flesh, you gasped out loud and pulled away slightly - only to have him grip even tighter around your waist, preventing any escape.

"I won't be gentle," He whispered into your ear, sending another wave of goosebumps through every inch of your body. "You're mine now."

He slid both hands up underneath your bra, cupping each breast carefully while keeping one hand firmly clamped around your stomach. Your breathing grew heavier when his thumb grazed across your nipple and sent tingling sensations throughout your entire chest.

With no other option available right now, you simply nodded silently and closed your eyes tight as if hoping this whole ordeal would never end... And fortunately, it seemed like things were about to get much more interesting between the two of you very shortly.

As he continued kissing you passionately, Changbin unclasped your bra completely. It fell off your shoulders and landed somewhere near the bed behind you, leaving you naked and exposed to him once again. With nothing left to hide, you decided to give in fully to whatever was going to happen next.

You opened yourself up entirely to him, giving full reign to do with you as he pleased.

His hands moved quickly after that, taking advantage of how eager you were to please by pushing your pants down further and fumbling with the buttons. After several seconds of struggling, he managed to open them enough to pull down your panties without removing them altogether. They ended up falling to either side of your ankles, allowing him easy access to your pussy.

The second his tongue made contact with your folds, you came almost instantly. A long moan escaped your mouth as pleasure coursed through every single part of your body; causing your hips to buck wildly beneath him. He responded immediately, lapping up everything he could find inside your cunt, making sure there wasn't a drop of cum or liquid left anywhere.

When he finally lifted his face up from between your legs, you couldn't help but stare at him lustfully, waiting eagerly for more.

"Mm..." Changbin hummed happily, clearly impressed by his own work. "That's quite some lubrication I've got here."

"Don't blame me for finishing too soon," You mumbled, still panting heavily. "You're the one who's worked me up so badly."

"And look how well it paid off!" Changbin chuckled, reaching forward to grab your ass cheek and pulling you close. "Now come on, show me what else you can do."

Before you knew it, he had flipped you over onto your back and was hovering above you, smirking smugly as he watched you wiggle your butt around. Even though his cock felt huge compared to the rest of him, it fit perfectly within your slick entrance; stretching you wide and filling every last bit of space.

"Oh fuck..." You breathed out, staring up at him as his dick slowly sank deeper into your wet hole. "So good..."

A low groan slipped past his lips as he pressed himself all the way inside of you. There was absolutely zero resistance whatsoever, which allowed him to slide in easily despite its girthiness. As expected, it caused your inner walls to squeeze tightly around him, drawing out a soft gasp from his throat.

You looked down between your thighs, watching Changbin's shaft disappear into your depths. Every time his thick length hit bottom, a new wave of pleasure rushed through your core, forcing you to bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. The sight of his cock disappearing deep into you was incredibly sexy, especially considering how large his dick was.

It took less than thirty seconds for him to start fucking you. Slowly at first, he withdrew halfway only to push back in harder. Soon enough, he was pounding you relentlessly, slamming his hips into yours forcefully while squeezing your tits roughly. You moaned loudly from the roughness of his touch, gasping whenever he grabbed your breasts too harshly. But the pain only added to the thrill, helping you to forget just how big he actually was.

The bed shook violently beneath you, knocking the pillows off the headboard repeatedly as he fucked you faster and faster. His balls slapped against your lower back with each thrust, smacking your skin so hard that you thought it might leave bruises. Not that it mattered much since you'd already been marked by him many times before.

But even though his size was intimidating, Changbin kept up an incredible pace. He pounded your insides mercilessly until you cried out from the overwhelming amount of sensation flooding your body. Sweat dripped freely down his forehead, mingling with your own glistening sheen. Yet he didn't slow down for anything, not even when you begged him to stop.

Instead, he merely slowed slightly, slowing down just enough to make sure you wouldn't pass out.

"Ahh...Changbin..." You whimpered breathlessly, clutching onto the sheets beside you as he began moving again. "I'm gonna... can't take anymore—"

A sudden sharp jolt shot straight through your pelvis, followed by another and yet another. Your entire body tensed up from the intense bursts of pleasure shooting through you, sending ripples throughout your stomach and making you writhe uncontrollably. Squirts of warm fluid coated your thighs as you squealed like a little girl, moaning louder and higher pitched than ever before.

Changbin didn't stop there however, continuing to slam his throbbing cock deep inside of you. Each powerful thrust sent shockwaves radiating outward from your center, making it impossible to keep quiet no matter how loud you tried. The strings of the mattress snapped under the force of his thrusts, leaving them hanging limply from their posts.

Soon enough, the two of you collapsed atop the bed together, both completely spent. You lay there, unable to move as sweat poured down your naked chest and pooled between your thighs.

"Hahaha...oh my god..." You laughed weakly, trying to catch your breath. "How are we going to clean this mess?"

"We'll worry about that later," Changbin murmured sleepily, resting his hand on top of your thigh. "But... I wasn't expecting you to squirt like that."

"H-Huh?" You gasped, looking down between your legs.

Sure enough, a small puddle of cum rested right below where his dick disappeared inside of you. It was mostly clear, but a few stray strands of white mixed in. And judging by the fact that most of it was dripping down onto the blankets underneath you, it seemed like you were leaking more than usual.

"Wow..." You smiled shyly, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze. "Didn't know you could get me off so fast."

"Well, if you want more..." Changbin trailed off suggestively, leaning down and kissing your shoulder gently. "Just say the word."

Hwang Hyunjin / You couldn't stop yourself from gagging around Hyunjin's thick fingers, as they roughly caressed the inside of your throat. He giggled at how pathetic a sight it was, and began to squeeze harder on each pass until you were practically choking in his hand. You had no choice but to swallow hard or risk losing consciousness completely. It felt like he'd be able to do that with ease if he wanted too... which only made him laugh more.

"Such a good little slut," Hyunjin praised, swirling the tip of his digits around your tongue before pushing them back down into your mouth again. "Suck them, now."

The roughness of his hands against your skin sent shivers up and down your spine; not because of fear, but excitement for what would come next. You sucked hungrily on one finger after another, eager to please him.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you took every inch of his long, slender digit deep within your wet mouth – moaning softly when it hit the very back of your throat. His other hand went between your legs once more, gently stroking your pussy through the fabric of your skirt while making sure you didn't miss out on any action either.

The way he kept teasing your clit without ever touching it directly made all sorts of delicious tingles shoot straight up your body.

Hyunjin leaned closer over you then, so close that his breath tickling your earlobe made you squirm in anticipation. "Mmhmm..." He murmured, licking along its rim slowly. "... I think you're ready for my cock, aren't you?"

His words set off an intense rush of lust within you, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting right to your core. A whimper escaped your lips as you nodded vigorously, unable to speak past the tight grip his fingers held onto your throat.

He chuckled lightly at this response, running his free hand up your neck and tilting your head towards him. Without hesitation, he pressed his open mouth against yours – kissing you passionately as he slipped two fingers inside of your dripping pussy. You moaned deeply into his mouth as he continued thrusting both of his slick digits deeper and deeper inside of you, filling you up until there wasn't much room left.

All thoughts about keeping quiet disappeared under the sheer ecstasy caused by his ministrations, leaving you panting heavily beneath him.

"That's it, slut... take those fingers like a good girl." Hyunjin cooed, nibbling playfully on your lower lip. "I bet you want me to fuck you really bad, don't you? To fill your pretty little pussy full of my hot cum, hmm~?"

"I-I— Mmph!" You mewled against his mouth, struggling to form coherent words due to how turned on you were becoming.

Hyunjin smiled darkly down at you, still fingering your soaking pussy. The heat emanating from his touch made you shudder uncontrollably, desperate for something else to happen soon.

There was nothing better than being taken advantage of, especially when the person doing it knew exactly what they were doing. The idea that he could make you feel this good just by playing with your cunt made you quiver, knowing he must have some sort of special technique to go along with his impressive size. That thought alone almost pushed you over the edge already, but you managed to hold back somehow. For now, anyways...

With a light groan of satisfaction, Hyunjin pulled away from your kiss and moved his face back to yours – smirking lewdly at your flushed expression. "So cute... I love watching you get fucked, little thing."

"Hngh..." You panted, trying your hardest not to moan.

A playful smirk curled across his lips. "Do you want me to finish you off first? Or should we move things along?"

Your breathing quickened as he slid his fingers out of your soaked pussy, making you whine in protest. Your thighs clenched tightly together, squeezing his digits in a futile attempt to keep them trapped within your folds. Even though you weren't getting anything more, it hurt having them removed – reminding you of the fact that you'd been denied for far too long.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, forcing him to lay flat atop you.

"Oh~?" Hyunjin breathed, staring down at you with wide eyes. "Did you finally decide to let me fuck you properly?"

"Yes, please," You whispered fervently, meeting his gaze with hungry eyes.It only took a few seconds for him to position himself above you – letting you stare down at his huge shaft tentatively.

It looked even bigger up close, causing you to bite your bottom lip nervously. Before you had time to second guess yourself, he gripped his thick length firmly between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a gentle tug. As expected, his dick sprang upright, throbbing eagerly against his stomach.

With a soft grunt, Hyunjin positioned himself further down your torso, resting his weight upon your chest. He stared down at you expectantly, waiting for your permission to enter you fully.

"Do it," You replied simply, gripping his sides tighter.

"Hehe~! Well, if you insist..." Hyunjin said with a chuckle before pushing forwards, sinking half of his cock inside your warm hole. The feeling of him stretching your insides made you gasp, clenching around his girth instinctively.

His tip rubbed directly against your deepest parts, eliciting another low cry from your lips. The sudden sensation made you writhe beneath him, moaning softly as you felt him start sliding deeper. Each inch filled you up a bit more, until his entire length sunk deep inside of you. It stretched you out painfully, burning as he sank deeper and deeper inside of you.

After several minutes spent taking his massive member all the way in, Hyunjin paused – allowing you to adjust to his size.

You moaned in contentment once you got used to his thickness, pressing your cheek against his muscular shoulder as he began slowly pumping his hips. His slow pace was enough to drive you crazy, the friction of his pelvis rubbing against yours driving you wild. Every time he thrust upwards into your depths, you squeezed tight around him, relishing every single moment of pleasure radiating through your body.

"Mm..." Hyunjin hummed appreciatively, leaning down to nuzzle your ear affectionately, while continuing his rhythmic fucking. "It's pretty warm in here, isn't it?"

"Yeah," You gasped, tilting your head to meet his mouth hungrily. "I like it."

His lips met yours in an eager embrace, both your tongues tangling together in heated passion. A shiver ran down your spine, sending goosebumps rushing over your skin. When you broke apart from each other, your breath came out raggedly, leaving you panting heavily.

"Good. Because I'm going to be here for awhile." Hyunjin chuckled throatily. "Don't worry; I'll take my sweet time filling you up~"

You gulp audibly, biting your lip hard as you watch him continue to slide his cock in and out of your dripping sex. You couldn't help but whimper when he hit your deepest parts, making your inner walls clench tightly around his invading shaft. The pressure only made him push harder, pounding his length into you relentlessly.

Every inch of his thick meat forced its way inside of you, spreading you open so much that it almost hurt. Despite how good it felt, it still left you gasping for air. You could feel your slickness coating his shaft as he plunged repeatedly inside of you, filling you up completely. Each plunge made you squeeze tighter around him, unable to stop yourself from crying out loudly.

"Hyunjin!" You cried out, struggling beneath him. "Please, make me cum already..."

"What do you think this is, huh?" Hyunjin asked teasingly, grabbing your ass roughly by the cheeks. "This is where I get to have my fun. So, don't go thinking that just because you're begging, I'm gonna give you what you want... or else you might find yourself regretful later on~"

"Ahh-!" You groaned, digging your nails into his back.

He smirked down at you, chuckling darkly as he continued to pound away. "No matter what you say or beg for...this is mine now."

As soon as he finished speaking, he pulled free from you, pulling your legs towards him. Without warning, Hyunjin pushed forwards again, burying his entire length inside of you without missing a beat. Your inner muscles clenched tightly around him, milking his thick length as he pounded into you.

His hands grabbed onto your thighs, holding them tightly as his cock pistoned inside of you. Your pussy burned fiercely, leaking juices freely down your thigh as his large cock slid in and out of you. The heat intensified whenever he hit your deepest parts, forcing you to cling to him desperately. He kept up his relentless rhythm, plunging into you over and over again, not stopping no matter how much you begged him.

Something new started to build up within you, growing stronger and hotter with every passing minute. Just as you thought you were about ready to explode, Hyunjin slammed his hips forward one final time. His balls slapped against your clit, sending jolts of electricity shooting straight to your core.

Warm juices squirt between your folds as you climaxed on his cock, spasming wildly underneath him.

"Fuck, yes! Hyunjin, oh fuck! You feel so fucking good!" You cried out as the orgasm rolled through you, filling your entire body with light. "Oh, fuck!"

"That's right, scream for me," Hyunjin growled hotly, slamming himself into you over and over again. The combination of his rough movements and your sensitive clit sent you spiralling into yet another mind-melting climax.

Hot waves of pleasure washed through you, tightening your inner muscles around his shaft. With a loud cry, you shattered under him, coming undone entirely. Your eyes closed, your jaw slackened and your voice went hoarse, letting out high pitched whimpers of blissful ecstasy.

Han Jisung / Jisung thrusted into your mouth with such force that you felt the tip of his dick hit the back wall. You were so turned on, and it was only getting worse as he pushed deeper inside until finally all six inches had disappeared down your throat. He held onto both sides of your head tightly while thrusting in and out rapidly like a jackhammer, making sure to keep most of him deep within your mouth.

The vibrations from his hips against yours sent shivers up and down your spine, but even more than that, Jisung's moans made every nerve ending in your body come alive at once. It took everything for you not to cum right there; however, Jisung still wasn't done yet. He pulled almost half way out before pushing himself back in again and repeating this process over and over without any mercy or pause. His cock swelled bigger by the second as precum oozed from its tip each time it slid past your lips.

Saliva dripped down his shaft too, which further added to the sensation of having something thick and hard sliding between them. Your tongue flicked along the underside of Jisung's dick, trying to get rid of some excess saliva coating his length, and then lapped around his balls when they rolled slightly forward into view

You could feel yourself growing dizzy due to lack of oxygen, but you didn't want to stop sucking just yet. The erotic sight of Jisung fucking your face drove you wilder than anything else ever did. He looked like a beast, holding you down against the bed while using you as his personal fuck toy. This was exactly what you wanted—to be used and degraded in front of someone who wouldn't judge you. Someone you knew would never leave you behind...

"Mmm, I love the way you suck on my cock, my sexy little slut," Jisung growled lowly, causing your eyes to widen. "I bet you could do this all day."

His words caused an electric jolt through your entire being, sending tingles shooting throughout your nerves. You'd been craving this kind of attention since forever ago, and now that it was here, you couldn't help but let loose.

Your hands grabbed hold of Jisung's thighs as best you could, squeezing tight enough to cause bruises if necessary. Your cheeks hollowed out as much as possible, allowing his girth to slide effortlessly down your throat, and then you began bobbing your head faster. If anyone saw you right now, they might have thought you were a professional porn star giving one hell of a blow job. But no, this was all real life. All these sensations were happening to you. And you loved it.

Tears stung your eyes from how good it felt, especially knowing that Jisung was enjoying every single moment of it. Even though his cock grew harder and thicker with each passing minute, you continued to work your magic. Every inch of him was coated in a layer of spit and drool, which also helped lubricate things nicely.

As soon as he reached his limit, he pulled away abruptly from your lips. Instantly, you cough and choke on whatever air you managed to catch in your lungs, which resulted in another loud moan escaping your parted lips.

Jisung smirked smugly down at you, wiping a hand across you chin to clean off some of the mess. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You nodded quickly, swallowing down the last bits of his precum still stuck to your mouth. "Y-Yeah, mmfh, mnph... I mean, no! I'm fine, really!"

The look of concern on his face instantly melted away when he realized you weren't injured. Instead, his smirk returned in full force, followed shortly after by his hungry gaze.

"You're pretty tough," Jisung said, running his fingers through your hair affectionately. "It's nice to know you can take me rough sometimes."

A blush spread across your cheeks as you stared back up at him, unable to say anything. The compliment made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but at the same time, it only fueled your desire. You craved more abuse. More pleasure. A lot more.

Jisung leaned closer to whisper directly into your ear. "Think you can keep going, baby? Or are you ready to give up already?"

With that question hanging in the air, you struggled to form coherent thoughts. You didn't want to disappoint him, but you also needed to breathe. When you opened your eyes, Jisung was staring down at you intently, waiting patiently for your answer. You glanced over to see his dick still twitching, ready for more pleasure. That alone gave you the motivation you needed to continue. Slowly, you pushed yourself upward until your chest rested on top of Jisung's thigh. With shaky breaths, you sucked in a few deep gulps of fresh air before looking back at him.

"Uhm..." You whispered breathlessly. "N-No, I don't think I'll give up just yet."

Jisung smiled proudly at your response, which caused a rush of warmth to flood your body. It was so easy to fall under his spell. To surrender everything to him. As long as he was there to protect you, nothing else mattered.

He moved his hips upwards again, letting the tip of his penis rub against the roof of your mouth once more. His eyes narrowed as he watched you carefully, waiting to make sure you were alright. After taking several slow breaths, you finally relaxed and resumed your blowjob.

This time, you focused solely on the task at hand; getting his dick as wet and slippery as possible. Then, without any hesitation or shame, you slid your lips up and down the length of him. Just thinking about how hard it had been to get him to come made your heart ache, and you immediately regretted not doing it sooner. Now that you knew what to expect, however, you were determined to bring him as close to orgasm as humanly possible.

Jisung moaned deeply as you did exactly that, sucking on the underside of his shaft while stroking him with both hands. He gripped onto your shoulders tightly as you went deeper than ever before, eliciting a soft grunt from his throat. Your saliva combined with the precum created a thin film coating his cock, making it easier to glide along its surface.

After a few minutes passed like that, Jisung lifted himself off of your head, causing you to gasp loudly. "Hm? What's wrong, Jisung?"

His breathing was ragged as he spoke, forcing you to lean forward slightly to hear him properly. "Bend over..."

Without hesitating, you complied. You bent down further, resting your elbows on either side of the bed, leaving your ass sticking straight up in the air. Jisung wasted no time climbing between your legs and positioning himself behind you. One of his hands grabbed hold of your waist, holding you steady while the other one traced circles around your clit.

Your stomach clenched tight at the sensation, sending waves of heat rushing through your lower half. You bit down on your lip nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight quiver in your voice. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied with pleasuring you instead.

Jisung ran his thumb gently across your swollen bud, rubbing it firmly enough to elicit a small whimper from you. Once he felt comfortable, he began sliding his digit in and out of you, slowly increasing the tempo. Soon, your pussy started dripping wetter and wetter, soaking his fingers completely.

Before long, Jisung added two digits to his foreplay, stretching you open wide while simultaneously stimulating every inch of your sensitive flesh. The pressure built steadily, turning your insides into molten lava and your brain into mush. You couldn't help but moan loudly, squirming underneath his touch even though you tried your best to remain calm and collected.

Jisung chuckled softly as he continued playing with your pussy, occasionally tracing a finger near your ass to tease you. Each time he did, you tensed up, unsure if this would be another instance where he'd use his tongue on you. However, each time he pulled away quickly, giving you false hope that maybe, just maybe...

"Oh God!" You cried out sharply as an intense wave of pleasure hit you all at once, causing your knees to buckle.

The sudden gush of clear fluid splattered against Jisung's face, drenching his handsome features in a mixture of warm cum and sweat. It wasn't until after the second spurt that he realized what had happened, pulling back abruptly to wipe it off of his cheek. His eyes widened when he noticed the mess he'd made, glancing up at you sheepishly. You blushed brightly, averting your gaze for fear of seeing disappointment in those beautiful brown orbs.

"Oh wow..." He breathed out heavily, staring at you curiously. "That's something you don't see everyday."

You giggled weakly, nodding in agreement. "No kidding..."

Lee Felix / Your wrists were tied tightly together as you sat patiently in a nearby chair. Large amounts of embarrassment washed over you as Felix looked at the ropes around your wrists with an amused smile on his freckled face. You tried not to blush too hard in front of him, but it was difficult when he stood there naked from the waist up while looking down at you like that. He had just finished showering before coming back out here, so he wasn't wearing anything except for some dark blue boxer briefs which barely covered most of his figure.

The material clung tightly to them and showed off every muscle beneath. His cock poked through one leg hole and hung low between his legs; thick and long enough to make your mouth water even though you'd already tasted what lay underneath those boxers once before. It would be easy to look away if this were anyone else's dick, but seeing how excited Felix got whenever you touched yourself made it impossible not to stare at his bulge all day.

"Sorry. Did I make you wait long?" He asked casually after a moment spent admiring your bound form. "Not that I care much, since my hands are free~"

He walked towards you slowly, never breaking eye contact as he did so. Your heart raced and your breath came short each time he approached until finally he stopped right behind where you sat. With no hesitation whatsoever, he grabbed hold of the rope binding both your arms to the armrests and pulled sharply upwards, causing your torso to jerk backwards into his chest. He let go immediately and stepped back again, giving himself plenty of space to admire your flushed cheeks and pouting lips.

"But, you're happy see me, right?" He asked teasingly, making you shiver slightly despite the warmth of his skin against yours.

"Y-Yeah," You mumbled shyly, unable to meet his gaze.

Felix chuckled softly. "I knew it."

His hand moved forward again then, sliding under your chin and tilting your head upward to force you to look directly at him. That only served to further embarrass you because now he could get a good view down your shirt, revealing more than enough cleavage to drive any man crazy. Even Felix seemed taken aback by it, taking a few moments to study your breasts before returning his eyes to your own.

You gulped audibly.

"Is something wrong? Are these small?" He teased gently, cupping one breast in either palm and squeezing lightly. A shudder ran through you as he squeezed harder, feeling the softness of your flesh through the fabric. "Or is it their color that makes you flinch?"

It took everything you had to keep yourself from squirming, especially when he slid his hand under the edge of your bra cup and rubbed your nipple through the thin cotton. All thoughts of embarrassment fled as he pinched your sensitive bud, sending electric jolts through your entire body. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, trying desperately to ignore how turned on you felt. But it was proving very difficult, especially considering how close he kept getting to touching you...

"Hmhm..." Felix hummed thoughtfully, leaning closer still. "What are you thinking about, hmm?"

You couldn't help blushing hotly at the sound of his voice. And yet, somehow you managed to reply without stumbling over your words or stammering.

"...Well, um.." You cleared your throat nervously, staring intently at his face. "I'm imagining...how it feels to have you inside me."

The corners of Felix' lips quirked up. "...Oh really?"

You nodded quickly, biting your lower lip as his fingers continued to rub circles around your nipple through your shirt.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" He breathed seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline. "I sure hope so..."

You moaned loudly when his tongue slipped past your parted lips and traced its way across your cheekbone. He licked his way down your neck, leaving wet trails as he went, stopping briefly to suckle your exposed collar bone. Aroused murmurs filled the room as Felix worked his way downwards, kissing and licking everywhere he could reach. When he reached your tits, he pushed aside your bra cups and sucked greedily at your nipples, eliciting another loud moan from you.

"Mmph!"

Felix laughed quietly at your reaction, pulling away to watch your chest rise and fall with ragged breaths. Your hands were still bound together, keeping you stuck in place, but that didn't stop you from reaching out to touch him. You curled your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly and moaning as he kissed his way down your stomach. The heat of his mouth was incredible, driving you wild with need for more.

When his tongue finally found itself nestled between your thighs, you whimpered and pressed your hips forwards, desperate to feel more. Unfortunately, your hands remained tied securely above your head, leaving you completely helpless as he lapped at your slit like some kind of ravenous animal.

You cried out wordlessly as his warm tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping deep and pushing just far enough inside to tease the nerves within. His hot breath tickled your inner thigh, sending a rush of tingly sensation down below, prompting you to push your legs wider apart to give him better access.

"Nnggghhh..." You grunted weakly, struggling to keep your focus on anything other than the pleasure radiating outward from your core. "Felix... untie me, please..."

He smirked up at you, watching your face closely while his tongue continued to work magic upon your most intimate parts.

"No can do, babe." He said simply, moving his attention to your clit instead.

You gasped loudly as he circled your swollen nub with his tongue, tracing little patterns all over it. It wasn't long before you began bucking wildly beneath him, crying out incoherently as he pleasured you. Each time you did, he would take advantage of the opportunity to lick you deeper, rubbing his tongue hard against your slick folds until you came undone once again. This happened several times throughout the course of what felt like an eternity, each orgasm stronger than the last. By the end, you were practically begging him to let you cum, no matter how much it hurt.

But, Felix merely smiled up at you, continuing to lap hungrily at your pussy. He slowed his pace significantly though, letting you catch your breath after every climax before starting anew. You tried to fight back the growing desperation building inside you, wanting nothing more than to see him release too. But, it was impossible to resist the temptation of his skilled tongue.

As soon as you started to relax, he'd start to move faster, swirling his tongue around your engorged clit until you were gasping and panting, writhing uncontrollably underneath him. Even then, he wouldn't relent, pressing himself against your quivering thighs and using them to pull you even tighter against him. With each thrust of his tongue, he made it easier for you to grind your soaked mound against his face.

Finally, you gave in to your urges, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly and grinding your hips into his face. As soon as you did, Felix groaned deeply, pushing one final inch further into your needy cunt. You screamed loudly, releasing yourself fully around his eager tongue, shuddering violently as you came all over his face. Squirting your juices onto his chin, he pulled back abruptly, swallowing the sticky fluid off his mouth and smiling wickedly at you.

You panted heavily, trying desperately not to pass out from the intense wave of bliss coursing through your body.

Kim Seungmin / Seungmin chuckled softly, watching you squirm underneath him like a pathetic worm on it's back. He had your legs spread wide and gripping the sheets tightly in both hands, as he slowly fucked into you from behind, his cock sliding deep inside of every time it pushed through that tight opening.

His balls slapped against your ass each time they swung low enough to do so, making you moan with pleasure, even though you knew better than anyone how good this was going to feel when he finally let loose inside of you. Seungmin could barely contain himself anymore either; his thrusts becoming harder and faster until all at once he pulled out completely before slamming back inside again.

Your head fell forward onto the pillow as he continued to fuck into you over and over, his hips slapping against yours with each hard thrust while those thick fingers dug deeply into your flesh beneath. The bed shook under both your combined weight, causing the wooden frame to creak loudly but not loud enough for either one of you to care about right now. It wasn't long after that he grabbed hold of your waist tighter still, pulling down harshly on it whenever he felt like pushing deeper inside of you or giving you more leverage if needed.

"I have to say... I'm impressed." You mumbled quietly between moans. "You being so rough seems very rare these days..."

"You think so? That makes two of us," Seungmin replied breathlessly, pausing only briefly to look up at you. His eyes were bright red with lust, sweat glistening along his brow. Your own body was covered in a light sheen too, despite the fact that you weren't doing much moving around besides moaning and panting heavily.

Seungmin smirked slightly, shaking his head lightly as he resumed fucking you. He didn't bother saying anything else, just grunted softly and kept pumping away relentlessly. Even though you couldn't see what was happening behind you, you heard the sounds of skin smacking together and gasping breaths coming from below you, which told you exactly where he was at the moment.

Your body tensed up slightly each time he slammed home, feeling another orgasm building quickly within you. Seungmin's grip tightened further upon your waist, before loosening up entirely, allowing you to fall forwards onto the mattress without any support whatsoever. You groaned lowly, unable to keep yourself upright due to the intense sensations running through you.

He didn't seem to mind much however, continuing to pound into you forcefully as he did so. Every inch of skin rubbed together sent sparks shooting through your entire being, making you whimper helplessly as your climax began to build ever higher. Just as it seemed you would pass the point where you couldn't handle anymore, he reached up and grabbed your hair roughly by the roots, yanking upwards sharply.

The pain only served to heighten the intensity of what was happening to you, sending jolts of electricity racing throughout your nerves as his dick throbbed deep inside of you repeatedly. All at once he stopped moving altogether, burying himself fully within you as he held you firmly there with just his pelvis pressed against your own. A strangled cry escaped your lips as you came undone, your muscles tightening and clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Oh... oh god..." you moaned weakly, gasping heavily as you tried desperately to catch your breath. "Ahh!"

Seungmin grunted out a few short curses as he began to empty himself inside of you, pumping hot cum, along with several other smaller spurts. Your pussy spasmed violently around his shaft as he kept moving, milking everything he could from you until there was absolutely nothing left. When he finally withdrew, you collapsed onto the bed next to him panting heavily, letting go of the sheet to clutch handfuls of fabric instead.

It took a moment longer before you realized his stamina hadn't waned in any way and that Seungmin had just been holding back for your sake. You lifted your head off the pillow to find him looking down at you curiously. One hand slid gracefully across your back gently, tracing the curves of your spine as he watched you closely.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah," You breathed out shakily, reaching up to wipe some sweat from your brow. "I'm fine."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth briefly before he leaned down and kissed you softly, kissing each cheek and jawline carefully. The sweet sensation made your heart flutter, making it difficult to breathe properly for a brief second. After breaking apart he sat up straight and looked down at you, tilting your chin upwards so he could kiss you again.

This time he lingered, pressing his lips against yours tenderly. Each soft stroke of his tongue brought new feelings bubbling up within you, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded. Even though you should have been tired and sore, you found yourself craving more of his touch. Before you knew it you were sitting up on your knees and wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as best as you could given the circumstances.

After a minute or two he broke off again, resting his forehead against yours as he stared intently into your eyes. He sighed contentedly and nuzzled closer to you, laying his hands on top of your thighs and holding you close to him. For a moment neither one of you said anything, simply enjoying the closeness of the other person. Eventually he shifted slightly, shifting his weight so that he lay on his side facing you rather than face down.

"Ready for round two?" He murmured huskily, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip.

You giggled lightly, leaning in and kissing him back. "Always."

Seungmin chuckled softly as well, bringing his arm up and looping an ankle behind your knee. With little effort he flipped you onto your front, pinning your wrists above your head with his free hand and positioning himself atop you. You let out a quiet moan when he entered you once more, this time with far less hesitation. As always it felt incredible, filling every part of you and stretching you wide open.

His pace slowed down somewhat compared to last time, taking things slower as he savored the feel of being inside of you. It wasn't long after that before you started pushing against his hips, trying to encourage him to move faster. Seungmin obliged immediately, picking up speed gradually as you began to lose control over your breathing.

With a shuddering gasp you arched your spine upward, crying out loudly as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, causing you to arch your back even further and press your heels into his lower abdomen. His thrusts grew deeper, hitting all the right places at exactly the perfect angle, driving you wild with desire.

Just as your climax peaked another one struck you unexpectedly, you couldn't stop yourself from squirting liquid onto his lap. You cried out in surprise but continued bucking beneath him regardless, desperate for any kind of relief. Seungmin growled deeply, slamming home hard enough to make you bite your lip in response. Every inch of him stretched you tight and left you feeling utterly empty afterwards, which was quickly remedied by the warmth pooling between your legs.

"Woah..." You panted out raggedly, rolling your hips slowly underneath him as if testing how loose you still were.

"Right?" He agreed, stroking his fingers through your hair soothingly. "That's why I love doing this."

You hummed in agreement, staring up at the ceiling and closing your eyes tightly. The heat radiating off of his body combined with the way his chest moved against your breasts sent pleasant tingles throughout your entire frame. It didn't take long for you to start getting sleepy, unable to keep your eyes open no matter how badly you wanted to stay awake.

Yang Jeongin / Jeongin held you steadily above his face, lapping up your nethers with a wet tongue. He was so gentle, but the pleasure he gave you felt like heaven; it made every part of your body tingle and sing as if all its nerves were on fire. You arched over him, writhing in ecstasy at how good this felt – especially when Jeongin's fingers found their way onto your thighs and began to caress them softly.

They rubbed against that spot just below where they joined together, sending waves of heat through your lower tummy and making your hips jerk forward eagerly towards each stroke. His thumb traced circles around the soft skin between your legs until you could feel yourself getting ready for something else entirely, then suddenly his mouth left your folds altogether before returning there moments later.

The tip of his tongue swirled gently across your clit while two more digits pressed into your inner walls, teasingly stroking inside of you without entering fully. It sent shivers down your spine as you gasped out loud, feeling like an animal caught by a predator who wanted nothing more than to be devoured whole.

Your hands gripped handfuls of bedsheets tightly beneath you as another wave washed over you, only now it wasn't quite so much about what you'd been doing. Instead, it was purely about being taken right here and now. The sudden shift from lustful playfulness to raw carnality had you arching off the sheets even harder, moaning loudly into the pillows behind you. You writhed underneath Jeongin's skilled lips and fingers, wanting to feel everything he did to you – every single thing that made you want to come undone completely.

As he worked magic upon your pussy, your back arched higher and higher until finally, with a cry of pure bliss, you came hard against his face.

You bucked wildly atop him, unable to stop shaking or shuddering as the orgasm hit you full force. Every muscle in your entire body tensed up and trembled as Jeongin kept licking away, milking out every last drop of cum within you. When the aftershocks subsided, you collapsed backwards onto the bed beside him, panting heavily.

However, Jeongin hadn't stopped pleasuring you yet.

With one hand still gripping your thigh firmly, he reached upwards to take hold of your other leg instead. Then, using both hands, he spread open your labia wide apart once again before slipping his tongue deep inside you. You whimpered in delight at how good it felt, especially since it also meant you didn't have to move any further to enjoy himself too. All you needed to do was lie back and let him work wonders on your insides.

His talented tongue played along your g-spot slowly at first, tracing little circles around it before dipping deeper into your core. It felt wonderful having him touch you there intimately, especially since the rest of your body was already thoroughly satisfied. But as he continued moving his head rapidly against your sensitive flesh, you soon found yourself coming close to climax all over again.

"Mn..." You mewl out, holding onto his shoulders as you grind your pelvis against his face. "I need...something..."

"I know, baby," He replied, his tongue still going wild against you. "I'm gonna give it to you."

Jeongin moaned deeply as you rode his face, pushing him closer towards the edge himself. Just as you started to get near, he pulled back slightly to lick the outermost parts of your vulva clean, leaving your most tender spots untouched. This drove you mad with desire though, because it meant he knew exactly what you liked best. So when he plunged his tongue right back into you, it went straight for those same places that made you go weak at the knees.

With his tongue buried deep within your depths, Jeongin used long strokes to massage your clit as well as your G-spot simultaneously. He alternated between these motions, alternating between fast and slow. In turn, it pushed you ever closer to the brink of oblivion. However, unlike earlier, he wouldn't allow you to simply fall over the side and tumble into release. No, he would keep you hanging on the precipice, teetering on the very edge of the cliff.

Just when you thought you couldn't possibly endure anymore, he withdrew his tongue and replaced it with two fingers. They slipped inside you easily, gliding smoothly past your spasming muscles. Once he got them nice and slick, he curled his fingers inward, pressing directly against your deepest reaches. A moment later, you felt his thumb press hard against your clitoris. And as he moved his digits in tandem with the thrusting motion of his tongue, you exploded for a third time.

"Does that feel good?" Jeongin asked breathlessly, pushing his fingers deeper into your wetness.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you cried out, clutching desperately onto his shoulder blades. You weren't sure if you were speaking or screaming, but either way, it was enough to make him chuckle.

"I'll take that as a yes," He chuckled, continuing to stroke and suckle upon your sweet spot. "And, I'm guessing you want to cum again? Is that right~?"

You nodded quickly, unable to form words just then. Not with his mouth and fingers working their magic on you. He gave you no chance to respond anyway, plunging three fingers deep into your quivering folds. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making your toes curl and your stomach tighten up. You could barely breathe properly, so much was happening down below. Your whole lower half seemed to be filled by a powerful tingle that threatened to send you flying off the edge.

But somehow, despite being wracked with such intense sensations, you managed to stay grounded. Because Jeongin wasn't done with you quite yet. His fingers remained lodged inside you, pumping in and out of your hot core while his tongue licked its way across your swollen bud. At this point, you were beyond ready for another mind shattering climax. One more push from him, and you'd shatter completely.

"Jeongin..." You breathed out softly, moaning his name. "Please, just fuck me. I-I want you inside me..."

He looked up at you briefly, meeting your gaze before looking back downwards. He stared intently at where his fingers had been, watching as they disappeared into your clenching hole. Soon after, he brought them back to his lips, sucking on each digit like it was the tastiest thing in existence. You groaned loudly at that, feeling your legs tremble beneath you. As you watched, Jeongin's cock began to swell even larger than before. It grew longer until it hit your inner thighs, thickening and swelling even more. When it finally burst forth, you gasped aloud.

"Oh fuck!" You squealed out loud, staring wide eyed at the massive erection now standing proudly in front of you.

It was beautiful too, jutting out from his groin and pointing upwards. Its shaft was red, pink, and purple all at once, pulsating slightly. There was an impressive amount of pre-cum oozing out of its tip, which was only further proof how turned on Jeongin really was. The sight alone caused your own arousal to spike, sending wave after wave of heat surging through your body.

Even without touching yourself, you felt incredibly sensitive, almost painfully aroused. As you gazed down at Jeongin's magnificent length, he took hold of your hips firmly, pulling you close. With one hand gripping your hip tightly, he guided his cock towards your waiting entrance. You whimpered softly, shuddering as his cockhead pressed against your tight opening. But instead of entering you, Jeongin held himself there for several moments.

He didn't move any farther, merely teasing your insides with his girthy cock.

"How bad do you want me?" Jeongin whispered huskily, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to yours. "Do you need my dick inside of you? Do you crave it...?"

"I—" You began, but you were cut off when his lips pressed against yours, kissing you deeply. For a few seconds, he continued to kiss you, stealing your breath away with every touch of his soft lips. A moment later, however, he broke apart, leaving you gasping for air.

"Answer me." Jeongin said sternly, his voice low and raspy.

"Y-Yes," You breathed out, panting heavily. "Yes, I want you inside of me!"

His smile widened as he leaned closer still, his face mere inches from yours. Before you knew what was happening, Jeongin pulled you flush against his chest, holding you securely in place. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pinning you between his muscular arms. In response, you laid your hands over his broad shoulders, clinging tightly onto him. After all, you needed something to keep you steady. Something to stop you from falling to pieces. And right then, he was exactly that.

With little effort, Jeongin slid his rock hard member into your slick pussy, filling you entirely. You moaned loudly, buckling as he stretched your tender walls. He paused only long enough to give you time to adjust, before sliding his full length into you once again. Over and over, he pushed his throbbing cock inside of you until both your bodies were covered in sweat. By the end, you couldn't feel anything except Jeongin's hot flesh buried deep within you. Every inch of his length was stuffed inside your wet depths, stretching you wider than ever before.

Suddenly, he withdrew, causing you to cry out in protest. You reached for him desperately, trying to grab hold of his thick shaft. Only to find that he was already gone, having slipped free of your grip. You weren't sure why, but you felt something leak from you. The feeling made you gasp, unable to hide your surprise. However, you soon realized that you were leaking fluid everywhere. Your entire crotch area was soaked, glistening with your juices. Squirting fluids from your slit like some kind of fountain.

"You're dripping honey all over my bedsheets." Jeongin murmured, smiling at you sweetly. "Isn't that cute~?"

The sudden words caused you to freeze. "H-Honey?"

"Mhm. It's pretty amazing, isn't it? That my tongue and cock alone could make such a mess~" Jeongin chuckled quietly.

Your cheeks burned brightly as you glanced down, seeing your swollen sex leaking clear liquid onto the sheets below. Not only did it look obscene, but it also sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Jeongin must have noticed because he smirked darkly, reaching up and cupping your cheek.

"Don't feel embarrassed. I like watching you get messy." He purred, tilting your head back so he could gaze into your eyes. "Especially since this is just the beginning..."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids #bang chan smut #lee minho smut #lee felix smut #seo changbin smut #yang jeongin smut #han jisung smut #hwang hyunjin smut #kim seungmin smut

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once-upon-an-imagine · 2 months

Text

Jaded - Charlie Weasley

A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :)

Request - Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]

Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D

Your name: submit What is this?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jaded

Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated

Charlie fucking Weasley.

That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.

After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—

“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.

“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.

“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.

“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.

“You just did” he glared a little at you.

“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.

“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”

“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.

“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.

“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.

“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”

“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.

“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.

“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”

“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.

“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.

“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.

“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”

“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.

“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.

“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.

“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.

“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.

“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.

“What? Absolutely not!”

“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.

“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”

“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.

“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.

“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.

“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”

“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.

“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.

“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”

“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.

“I just don’t think that this-”

“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.

“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.

“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”

“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh” he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”

“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.

“Uh-”

“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.

*-*Flashback*-*

“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.

“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.

“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.

“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”

“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.

“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.

“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”

“Then sit down” he smirked.

“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.

“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.

“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.

“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.

“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”

“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”

“Give it, Nott!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Fine!”

Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.

“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.

“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.

“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.

“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”

“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”

“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.

“But I wasn’t-”

“NOW!”

“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.

“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”

“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.

“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.

“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”

“You are so… so-”

“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.

“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.

“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.

“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”

“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”

“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”

“I hope you end up an old spinster!”

“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”

“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.

“Make me!” you said smirking at him.

“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.

“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.

*-*End of Flashback*-*

“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”

“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself.

Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him.

To Be Continued

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: so… part 2?

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley series

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 8 months

Text

Hobie Brown & Non-Conventional Relationships

How to Write Hobie in Non-Conventional Relationships - & How I incorporate it into my own writing

{Non-Conventional Relationship Abbreviated as NCR}

This is Part 2 - Check out Part 1 here if you want! Hobie Brown is unconventional is every way - and he likes it that way. From his music to his views, Hobie is always ready to challenge the norm - choosing to look for healthier, kinder, and freer alternatives.

And that extends to his romantic relationships too.

I talked HERE about Non-Conventional Relationships, the lack of them in fics, what they could look like for Hobie, and how they're a reflection of his values - including his feminism.

In that one, I wanted to talk about why Hobie needs Non-Conventional Relationships, and I analyzed why NCRs are so scarce within the Hobie fandom (hint: it's sexism). I also spoke about how I purposely designed my Spidersona - DiscoSpider Diane - with subversion of a sexist trope in mind, and how we as a fandom can write healthier 'Y/N's.

But I also wanted to talk about - and give clear examples of how a NCR might work for Hobie, and how to write it in fanfiction.

This is a Writer's Guide to writing Hobie Brown in NCRs, and writing 'Y/N's that challenge the norm. As well as how I apply these tips directly in my own writing with Hobie.

[I offer tips and writing advice as well as the ways I use these tips in my writing. I touch on alternative forms of affection, intimacy, polyamory, independence, and labels] Heads Up!! This post is LONG and Detailed. At the end, I have a full deep dive and analysis of my Spidersona DiscoSpider Diane, Hobie, and their NCR - feel free to pass on that if you want or check it out if you're curious or want an example :)

I hope someone out there finds this helpful or at the very least, entertaining! With that said,

Let's Begin~~~~~~~~

Hobie Brown & Affection:

Showing and valuing alternative forms of affection can be a great foundation for Non-Conventional Relationships. There's a wide array of ways to express affection in a relationship - ranging from full on playfulness and messing with each other - to being romantic but only in private. And anywhere in between. In order to challenge stereotypical romance, here's where we can start.

First things first: Cut the generic pet names One of the most common things across all Hobie fics, are generic pet-names. It's hard to find a fic without one 'luv', 'darlin', or 'sweetheart'. And it makes sense, it romantic - and a classic way to show affection. But it can be easy to use these terms as a crutch to infuse romance into dialogue. A good way to diverge from this convention is by dropping the generic pet-names all together. By abandoning words like 'luv' and 'darlin' we're forcing ourselves to find more personal terms for him to call his partner. Hobie calls Gwen and Miles personalized pet-names, and this can extend to his partner too. These names can be personal - When writing OCs, you can use things like inside jokes, a shortened version of their name, or some form of rhyming slang. Having something happen within the story that Hobie pulls a nickname from is also a great idea, or having him call them by a defining trait or something tongue in cheek. [Like if your character is known for being a bit gloomy, have him call them sunshine. If they sing, he can call them songbird, etc.] When writing xReaders, you can subvert typically 'negative' terms into loving and playful names. For example, if the !Reader is portrayed as shy, he may loving call her Mouse Whisper. If they're hotheaded, he may just call them 'hot-head'. But by having personalized pet-names, the reader is shown that Hobie and them have history and past connections that Hobie finds meaningful.

Annoyance can be affection too I talked about this HERE We all love attention from our partners - some just seek it out in different ways. Annoying ways. And I can see Hobie being one to do this - Adorable, but annoying ways. Playfulness is a great way to substitute romance in NCR. We all know those relationships where they love messing with each other or pissing each other off. Having inside jokes about each other, or teasing in a way only the other person is allowed to. It's never mean, but in a way, a form of intimacy. And when romances are written like this, it shows that the two know each other well, down to the smallest things that make them tick. They know each other well, and have a clear soft spot for each other when one starts bugging the other and the other doesn't snap (lol). When writing, you can give them small pet peeves that Hobie may do to irk them. When writing OCs, Hobie can give them nicknames that irk them. Or point out things that annoy them. Maybe he likes a food they hate, and eats it in front of them all the time. It's all in good fun, and shows the two aren't shy around each other. You can also have them bring up embarrassing stories of each other, to show they're close and spend a lot of time together. When writing xReaders, you can have him popping up at the worst times, hanging off of the reader, and overall trying to distract them from what they're doing. He could also play light pranks to mess with the reader - and vice versa - always making sure to end it with a hug and a laugh. At the end of the day, it's all about getting their partners attention and playing around with them. And talking about that -

Touch as a Love Language: Don't be afraid of playfighting Some IRL couples playfight. And it can be adorable. If the pestering goes to far, then the reader finally has to give him all their attention - and they can playfight him. Which is what he wants, their attention. This is something that can be done with both OCs and xReaders - and if they're a Spider-person EVEN BETTER. Don't be afraid to have Hobie pick the reader up, having the reader jump on his back, or punch his arm lightly. Having them wrestle for something, and it can turn into cuddling. The character can jump on his back playfighting, and doom - Hobie's running and it's a sudden piggyback ride.

While on the topic of Love Languages: Laughter as a Love Language Laughter can be a HUGE love language. In addition to annoying their partner, some people aim to making their partner laugh whenever they can. Whether this be making jokes, or doing things they think are hilarious. Not only is is super playful - but it shows that they're close and know each other well. They know what they other think is funny, what's sure to get a laugh, and most importantly, when their partner needs it the most. It shows that they care about their partner's happiness, and they want to bait it out them every way they can - even if that means making themselves look silly from time to time again. This is one of my favorite tools when writing NCRs and it works for both OCs and xReader.

If really want to challenge yourself and show a new form of romance: Abandon 'I love you.' Ever heard of Han Solo and Princess Leia? The whole "I love you." - "I know." trope? Saying 'I love you' is of course one of the easiest ways to show love - but when we abandon it, we can find cuter and more personal things to replace it. In doing this we begin to show a NCR relationship that openly challenges romance. By doing away with 'I love you's in favor something personal, we're showing that their feelings go beyond 'love' into something more personal and intimate to them. They can still be madly in love and not say it - it can be completely unspoken cause they both know. And so, they don't take it too seriously. When writing OCs, you can replace the phrase completely, substituting it with a repeated phrase on both sides. "I hate you" also works as a playful subversion. When writing xReaders, you can have the other side not respond the usual way - "I love you." - "Uh-huh." Or you can have them not say it at all. And have it completely but clearly emotionally implied.

Hobie Brown & PDA:

Hobie is a natural touchy guy. He likes standing close to people, leaning over them and putting his hands on their shoulders. So by having him display limited romantic PDA with his partner, and treating them no different than anyone else, you're challenging the norm and forcing yourself to write other ways.

Prioritize Privacy Hobie is often (or rather only) characterized as a very open person with his relationship, openly kissing, making out, and touching his partner. And this is very typical of a romantic relationship. If you'd like to write a NCR you can try to challenge this. Hobie is from a police state, a world where surveillance is prevalent and freedom is limited. Plus he's a rockstar - people get nosey. And don't even get me start on The Society snooping. You can reflect this by having him prioritize privacy - either out of survival instinct, or just personal preference. Hobie keeping his relationship a secret, or simply not mentioning it, allows a freedom not often see in traditional relationships. By doing this, the relationship can develop naturally without typical pressures or outside influence - whether dangerous or Society wise. The two are allowed to take it as slow - or as fast as they want, without worrying about anyone else getting in the way. And with Hobie being a guy who likes to share often, him keeping one small thing to himself can be special. This can be used for both OCs and xReaders.

Keep Kisses in Private Stealing kisses can be extremely cute, and saving them for private can make them 10x more intimate. Plus this is another one that can be used by both OCs and xReaders. By saving kisses for private moments, those rare instances automatically become more intimate. And by having them restrain themselves, when they do finally get to be alone it can feel romantic (not just sexual). By having them save their kisses for only them, they become more special to Hobie and his partner. They may choose to not kiss at all in public and leave it at that or try to steal kisses when they can - or even substitute a different form of intimacy in place of kisses. Ever see that couple that one of them will walk by the other, and one person will put their hand in the other's for a moment as they pass by before letting go? Like that. Cheek kisses can also be a good substitute for public. Plus in the rare times they do kiss in front of someone, you can save it for super emotional or heated moments (or moments like parties, bars, etc - those are always fun. The gang finding out the two of you have been dating a year after you both get drunk at a party and make-out? Love it.)

Or you can take it over the top - and make it openly committed and intimate, but label-less. Having a partner he kisses, hugs and lives with but does not refer to as his girlfriend also challenges norms of possessiveness - bonus points if they're poly (which I'll touch on in a second). By having him clearly involved with someone, and seriously committed but having it between them can be a NCR. The character doesn't have to be his girlfriend or boyfriend. That can simply be 'his person' or 'the one'. Or he's 'seeing somebody' - or 'with them'. He's not outright saying they're dating, but yeah - they're solidly involved. They may have a kid together, sleep in the same bed, or say 'I love you', but by both parties rejecting labels, they're openly denying people an inside look to their relationship. Are they together? What's that got to do with you?

Or have them be 'life partners' aka - marriage without marriage. This one may be easier to develop for OCs, but can be done for xReaders too. Have them openly express interest in being each other's life long partners. Have them speak as if they're married, even if they aren't. By verbalizing this connection, they don't need rings or a wedding certificate to speak to them, because they openly say it as a form of PDA. Having them believe in soulmates, or 'other halfs' takes the 'caring boyfriend' trope and pushes it into something far more intimate and personal. This could include things like matching tattoos, sharing a home together, wearing things of each other's in place of a ring, etc.

Hobie, Labels, and Polymory (Open Relationships)

Every single fic I've seen of Hobie assumes both parties are monogamous. Let's challenge that.

Do away with the idea of Hobie and jealousy It's unrealistic for his character. Hobie is openly supportive, non-possessive, and EXTREMELY confident. Jealousy is an attribute that feeds off of insecurity first, and sexist tropes of possession second - the idea of having no one touch 'your' partner. Any partner Hobie has isn't his - no one belongs to any one. They can be with whoever and do whatever they want when he's not there. So long as he sees his a priority in your life, he'll be there. Let's just hope the OTHER guy is okay with that (and not extremely intimidated by how perfect Hobie is). This applies to both OCs and xReaders.

Open the relationship - and keep it honest The priority when writing this is honesty - because Hobie values it A LOT. And I cannot stress this more. If his partner is honest with him, and genuinely makes an effort to make him a priority, then Hobie is happy. Hobie himself may not choose to have multiple partners, but by having option on the table and having his partner exercise that shows a huge degree of maturity, communication, and freedom. By having a partner who can openly pursue romance outside of Hobie, but still chooses Hobie as their primary partner, their relationship becomes a lot freer, but still just as close - if not stronger. Sure they've got options, and sometimes they may have flings, but at the end of the day, there's no one they connect more with than each other. Better with OCs, but can be done with xReaders.

Let his partner have the last say Hobie can't be a player if he's not the one calling the shots. Have a xReader or OC that is openly outspoken about what they want and the label they're interested in. (even if thats 'unlabeled) Have the reader be the one who doesn't want to make it official, or on the inverse, have them insist that either they make it official or else they'll stop seeing them. And have them stand their ground. Do not have them budge or waiver or second-guess. Have them leave the ball in Hobie's court - and sort it out for himself. By doing this you're giving them a sense of agency and independence outside of him, and inverts the sexist expectation that men be the ones who define the relationship.

In the words of Coi Leray "Cause Girls is Players too." Kick slut-shaming in the teeth. Where are all the city girls? Directly challenge sexist tropes that are prevalent in the Hobie fandom, by writing a female character who is openly and sexually liberated, knows her worth, and knows how to handle her feelings. Have her be the one seeing multiple people, have him be the one to pass the guy on the way out. Its not more shameful when the character does it. If you want to make Hobie a player who can run game - acknowledge that some girls run game too. And many girls can call that shit from a mile away. Having a character who has multiple partners, but slowly finds themself falling for Hobie in specific is an interesting dymanic. It forces you to show a woman's sexuality in a different and positive light, one not connected to her lust for a specific man. And it forces you to challenge the idea of 'fast girls' or 'groupies'. Ever seen 'She's Gotta Have It' by Spike Lee? That. And you can have her other partners acting as a contrast to Hobie. If she starts realling her other partner really ain't shit - Hobie starts looking a lot better. And let me just say - this doesn't have to cause drama. Having Hobie and the character both be polyamorous, only to connect with each other and laugh about their other escapades can be CUTE. And neither are threatened, because they know it's all in good fun, and they know they've got their partner on lock.

Find alternative labels Take 'boyfriend and girlfriend' off the table and get creative. They can be life partners, or Best Friends with Benefits (who are genuinely friends, stay that way and are not just thinly vieled romantic tension), or the xReader/OC can simply 'his girl' or 'his guy'. By doing this, you're able to put a label on it, without taking it serious at all. It signals that there is something there and they know it, and they don't need normal terms to define it. Good for both OCs and xReaders.

Hobie & Gender Roles

Chivalry is dead. Romance your boyfriend to death.

I spoke in the last post of about Hobie's feminism and his understanding of the patriarchy and the way it works. And I think Hobie would work to openly defy gender roles in his relationship. Here's are some tips to do that.

Have the xReader or OC initiate the romance Have them confidently ask him out. Have your OC or xReader be the one to approach him at a party and hit on him. Just by doing so, you're putting your characters in a situation that subverts gender roles - where the many is typically the one to approach his mate. It shows confidence on the part of the xReader/OC and let's them step outside the traditional trope of a passive feminine partner.

Have them initiate touch/affection as well Have them touch him first, or wrap their arms around him. Have them kiss his neck (if they can reach lol). Instead of having a shy and quiet xReader who only accepts compliments from Hobie - have them openly and boldly compliment him. A girl who openly loves her partner/boyfriend and yeah- she's gonna talk about him cause she can. Have them call him pet-names first. And show Hobie enjoying it or feeling comforted by it. In doing so, you're allowing him to show a softer side that is also absent in a lot of fics. Plus you're breaking the trope of once again, the partner just passive accepting Hobie's affection without active reciprocation.

Actively show Hobie being comforted and taken care of - not just when he's in crisis Have the character ask if he's okay - in the way a couple will look at each other and be like "You good?" even when nothings going on. Have the character be the one to ask if he's eaten. Don't only do this when he's about to emotionally crack, or when he's physically beat up. Do it on the daily. Men shouldn't have to break before their emotional needs are addressed. So often in fics Hobie is seen as the perfect protector who never gets tired - and then there's no mention of him ever taking care of himself in any way. That's now how this works. Hobie is community based. That means he looks after the people he care about. If the character cares about him, they have them go out of their way to show it - the same way he does. The xReader/OCs can hold him while he's crying or make him go to sleep when he's up all night. They can hear him out when he's annoyed with Miguel, and help him when he's feeling not 100% too. SO many fics are about the reader NEEDing Hobie for some often asinine reason. Sometimes Hobie needs his partner too.

________________________________________________

HI HI! If you've read this far, thank you so much! I really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts! The next part is centered around my spidersona Disco-Spider Diane, her relationship with Hobie, and how I incorporate all this into their dynamic. This part is LONG and detailed (I'm unhinged) so I don't blame you if you wanna peace out now! If you do peace out, thanks again! - here's a photo of Hobie for the road!

_______________________________________________________ Now let's talk about Lil Miss Disco and her Boo Thang

DiscoSpider Diane and Hobie -

How I write a Non-Conventional Relationship For more info you can check out Diane's Character Sheet here and her tag here

I spoke briefly in my last post about Hobie, feminism, and how subverting sexist tropes contributed to her characterization - so this time I just want to give an overview of how that translates to a NCR - and how that can be shown clearly in writing.

Hopefully this will give some ideas or at the very least, I can ramble about Diane lol Diane & Hobie - A Basic Overview

[You can check out Diane's Character Sheet here!][And check out her tag for more art & writing here!]

I don't have a word for what Diane and Hobie are supposed to be, and that's intentional.

They aren't dating. Because they don't go on traditional dates - they just hang a lot. They're not boyfriend and girlfriend because that's rigid in it's confines. Even partners can be a bit of a stretch. I wanted to write them instead as two people who care about each other and make an effort to be in each other's lives. They're the other's largest emotional support and cheerleader - and their emotional reactions take focus over the romantic ones.

Diane and Hobie have a Non-Conventional Romance because they're in an emotional relationship rather than a romantic one. There is romance there - but the same way a romantic relationship isn't a 'sexual relationship' because sex is involved - an emotional relationship does not become entirely romantic once romance is involved.

Their emotional relationship is very committed, but their romantic relationship is extremely casual. Here are some ways I show that.

DiscoPunk & Affection:

Diane and Hobie do not use typical pet-names. Instead, Hobie is more likely to call Diane 'Daiquiri' - a nickname left over from the first time they've met. It's an embarrassing memory for Diane - and a story Hobie loves to tell. But by calling her Daiquiri, he's sending the reminder that he thinks about the night they met often and remembers it well. Including the 4 Daiquiris she made him buy her. He also calls her Clover - as she's one of his 'Lucky Charms'. Diane is the same, preferring to call Hobie by his name - or over the top names like 'pookie', 'honeybun', or 'hot stuff'. Though the most common she'll default to is 'babe', though she will only do this will they're completely alone. Hobie openly annoys Diane and she lets him. Diane is easy to mess with, easy to sneak up on and easy to confuse (sorry girl). It's easy for him to make her jump if he's too quiet, and despite being fairly outgoing, Disco gets embarrassed easily. Sharing constant silly stories, calling her embarrassing nicknames and ruffling her perfectly manicure hair, are go to ways to piss her off. And you can usually tell when she asks "Am I playing with you? Does it look like I'm playing right now??" In turn, Diane does her 'groupie act', which involves running up and hugging him hard as hell, jumping on his back, or talking about how cute he is in a baby voice while pinching his cheeks. They playfight A LOT. Hobie is known to come up behind Diane, lovingly slipping his arms around her waist. He lifts her up - and then tries to bodyslam her. He's holding her like he's about to do a judo flip and Diane is shoving at him telling him to cut it out. In turn, Diane likes to run at him from a far and jump on his back, and she's known to punch his shoulder if he gets too cheeky with the jokes. (Thank god they both have Spider Strength). And while they may not be quick to cuddle or hold each other in public - if Hobie is asking for it they WILL wrestle, and with matched strength, they don't stop until someone (usually Jess) tells them to cut it out. And Laughter is one of their biggest Love Languages. Hobie LOVES making Diane laugh - mainly because it's such a spectacle. Diane will scream and cry in laughter, doubled over so hard she has to sit down or leave the room. And for Hobie, it's easy to do this, so he does it whenever's the most inappropriate. Him dancing is a HUGE way because it brings Diane to tears almost instantly, without fail. She begs him to stop cause she can't breathe - she's laughing so hard. Hobie refuses and keeps dancing, just to mess with her. On the inverse, when Diane does it, most of the time she doesn't mean to. Diane is clever, but she's blunt and a little.. easy to confuse. And when she blurts something out or asks a question that sounds a bit ridiculous, Hobie can't help but laugh. Like when she saw Peter B. unmasked for the first time, and immediately asked him "Wait, why are you white?" Hobie will almost away burst into laughter, which is usually followed by Diane going "Whatttt? What did I say? Why are you laughing at me :(' Everytime she does this she is completely serious, which Hobie finds even funnier. If she's confused, he'll try to explain it to her, and he never teases her for it. It's just that Hobie chooses his words very carefully, and Diane says exactly what comes to mind.

They very rarely say 'I love you' and only do it in private. Usually, they'll only say this when one of them is going through it, the other just did something awesome, or they're alone and in a good mood. It reserved for moments of intimacy or spontaneity. With a relationship that is so playful, the two of them would probably think that saying it outright is a bit too sappy and plain. Instead, they substitute it by asking the other if they love them -

If Hobie does something for Diane, instead of Diane saying "I love you", Hobie will be the one to say "Don't you love me?" If Diane does something for Hobie, instead of him saying "I love you", he can swap it with "You must love me." (Usually the other person may say "I do" or an equally loving "Shut up.")

DiscoPunk & PDA:

They prioritize privacy. They don't label themselves - to anybody, even close friends. They let people make their own assumptions because it doesn't matter anyway. Plus with Diane being very committed to her place in the Spider Society, it's preferable to just keep it between them. Hobie doesn't really care either way. But the less people bothering him and asking questions, the better.

Diane and Hobie never kiss in front of other people. Save for a few exceptions. Despite being very physically and playfully affectionate, Hobie and Diane choose to keep most of their PDA completely private - and they're more likely to link arms than hold hands. When it comes to kissing, the two saves it for behind closed doors, or hidden spots in HQ. With relationships between Spider-people being prohibited at HQ, it's just easier that way - and the both of them prefer it. This even extends to close friends, including Pavi and Gwen. They may dramatically kiss the other's cheek to annoy them, making kissy sounds and grabbing each other's faced - and on occasion Hobie may give Diane a forehead kiss (she's tall enough to do this). They may cuddle in front of others too, but that's about it. But kisses in specific are just for them. Wasn't a conscious choice, but they like it that way. There's two exceptions though: 1) Shortly after meeting Hobie, Gwen ran into Hobie and Diane kissing at a hidden spot on campus. Nothing heated, but kissing. Diane felt her looking and seemed very disturbed and uncomfortable she had seen. Gwen left quickly, and although Hobie assured Diane that Gwen was okay, the two of them didn't meet until a later date, and Diane seemed a bit embarrassed.

2) Parties. After shows and while drinking Hobie and Diane are completely fine making out in public and showing full PDA. Why? Because they have the cover of the 'groupie act' and they can argue that they were drunk and were only messing around or even say they straight up don't remember. Their terms of commitment are unique. Neither Hobie (in my little universe) nor Diane believe in soulmates. But they do consider themselves 'committed', but they're not life-partners either. They don't care if they'll be together forever. The idea is nice, but it's not their focus. If they wanna spend their lives together, they can start but showing up for each up daily, rather than wearing rings daily.

DiscoPunk, Labels, and Polyamory:

Diane and Hobie are in an open relationship. Since they've never officially asked each other out, monogamy hasn't really been on the table ever. And both are fine and comfortable with this. Because they're great at minding their own business. Who's the girl leaving houseboat when Diane comes through? Who cares - but if touched the makeup Diane left on his bathroom counter, she'll be sending her an invoice and an angry letter. This is equal on both sides.

Diane is without a doubt more active, and more prone to one-night stands (she has a kink for guitarists) rather than full on relationships. Maybe it's the fact that having Hobie in the picture is intimidating as fuck to most guys.

Hobie also has his share - though he usually finds himself in flings and short relationships - going more for romance than sex. In fact, Hobie was with Diane for the duration of his relationship with his Felicia Hardy.

Naturally, Felicia and Diane knew about each other - though they hadn't met. Diane was fine with this and at most would ask how Felicia was doing. Felicia however really wanted to meet Diane. Like dying to meet her. So she found out Hobie's secret identity and just - turned up at one of his shows. Diane was...understandably confused. She was nice, but confused. Asked Hobie later like "Why's she here. Nothing wrong with it but like forreal why is she here?" and he's like "IDK I aint invite her m8 she always does this." Eventually the two got to know each other and although Hobie isn't with Felicia anymore (it's messy), her and Diane are still close friends.

Hobie perfers to let Diane have the last say when it comes to labels.

He's fairly unbothered. What's he gonna do - tell her he has to be her boyfriend? Or brush her off and still expect her to be there? Nah, Labels are the last thing he's worried about. And that's because he's fine with all of them. So long as they're clear. If avoided labels, and demanded to be label-less, that was still caring about labels.

This is where there's conflict - and instead of most fanfics in which the conflict is coming from him - in their case it's coming from her. Diane avoids commitment, terrified of the threat it could cause to the multiverse and Hobie's universe in specific. She's drank the society Kool-Aid so to speak, and will dance around the topic. Hobie has on occasion mentioned monogamy between them being a good option, but when directly approached, Diane will try to dance around the topic - mainly afraid of what Jess and especially Miguel will do if she falls out of line.

This, along with canon events, are the only things that can get them to actually argue - and it can sometimes decend into screaming matches (more about the Society rather than their relationship). They try to avoid bringing it up. But Diane is still paranoid and avoids it.

They use alternative labels instead. For sake of implicity, if you ask them directly "What is x to you?" Hobie will either say "Diane's my bird." or "Why do you want to know - You interested in me or her?" He may also say 'The Old Ball n' Chain' (mocking boomer humor) or simply say "That's Daiquiri."

Diane will most likely say "He's my little boo thang." She may also call him her 'hubby', or say 'I'm his biggest fan.'

WE'RE ALMOST DONE I PROMISE

Finally, DiscoPunk & Gender Roles

I wrote in the last post about how feminism and inverting the sexist trope of 'groupie' contributed a lot to Diane and her behavior towards Hobie. This can mostly be seen here:

Diane initiated the romance. Diane has always been Hobie's groupie, and outspoken in her affection for him. She thinks the girls hiding how much they like Hobie is silly - He KNOWS he's hot. Why not come out and say it - hype him up. Diane is also a way bigger flirt than Hobie - and I really wanted to write the two of them this way, because so much of the time Hobie is the one flirting, usually on a passive OC or xReader that simply passively accepts.

It's rare in dialogue that someone outright points out how hot Hobie is. So Diane does it. She was fine with being like "You're so hot it's distracting and that's not a joke. :) "

Diane usually initiates touch. Hobie rarely wraps his arms around her (unless he's doing that stupid judo shit she hates), but Diane does it to him all the time. She's tall enough on her skates that if she holds him by the waist from behind, she can see clearly over his shoulders. And it's not unusual to see Diane's eyes peek over Hobie's shoulder when you're talking to him. She's not listening, she's just there.

In turn, Hobie accepts this touch very much like the way an xReader would. He's usually the one intiating and offering touch, but when Diane does it him, he finds it comforting to be on the receiving side.

And I usually see this/show this as him softening into her touch, complimenting her for it, or baiting her into cuddling (like plopping down on her on the couch)

They supplement this a lot with closeness. Hobie and Diane always seem to be shoulder to shoulder, whispering inside jokes into each other's ears and trying not to crack up. Most often, Hobie with hput his arm around her shoulder, or if she's in her skates - a hand on her waist to steady her. Not that she needs it. Their relationship is mainly and largely emotional. And that's the basis of it. Hobie was the one who recruited Diane, and has been there for all of her canon events since, seeing her in her most venerable states.

Diane is dedicated to canon - and letting Miguel write her life for her - and although she finds herself conflicted and cornered by the Society, Hobie wants to be there for her always. And he'll be along for the ride as long as she'll have him. Diane in turn, tries her best to be positive when they're both from worlds where things can get really negative. No matter how much he tries to hide it, the constant battles and brutality with the police of his home world wears on him - and he's aware that he's different than most other Spider-people. He's killed before. Usually, he lets it out through his music and when it isn't that - it's through anger and protest. But like Hobie, Diane is a huge supporter of radical happiness. If you can think of Hobie's music as a call to arms, Diane's music is a love song to the sweeter brighter things in life. Diane was raised by The Black Panthers, and she knows just as well as he does what the brutality and pain of oppression can feel like. She has her feet firmly on the ground and her head happily in the clouds.

If anything, Diane is a person of comfort and escapism for Hobie. A reminder of the sweet life that he's fighting for. Diane lives completely free, free of labels and limits - even while living under the thumb of the Society. And she tries to remind Hobie what freedom feels like, when he gets tired of fighting every now and again _________________________________________________

In this way their emotional connection is mutual.

More than anything, I wanted Hobie and Diane to be emotional rocks to each other, before romantic partners. I didn't mean to write it that way (in my head), but it kinda ended up that way.

So often in the Hobie fandom we see the extremes of either Completely Detached Hobie - who sleeps around and wants nothing to do with labels - or Completely Committed Hobie - who is madly in love with his partner in a traditional sense. And in their relationship, I hoped to challenge that. By writing a Hobie than didn't care either way, or went with the flow. A Hobie that was just as thoughtful in his relationships as he was in his friendships. Instead, I wanted to shift the focus to Diane and making it about her choice. By having the woman be the one to define the relationship, the story can now focus on an internal struggle. And seeing his partner being the one to struggle with labels - whereas he's made peace with them.

And by having their affection shift more into playful - that was just because I think it's really funny. Hobie's a little shit.

All of this allows Diane and Hobie's relationship to be something based on mutal care and admiration for each other - rather than lust and clear-cut commitment.

They're able to be independent people, with independent lives and beliefs, while still being a large part of the other's life. They're able to excecise freedom in their situation, while still having an underlying conflict or struggle driving their story.

Hobie and Diane deeply care about and love each other, multiverse be damned. And even if they may not always see eye-to-eye, they're willing to put that aside if it means they have a chance at a peaceful future together - no matter what universe they're in.

They're not conventional, but they're in love. Cause I said so.

___________________________________________

So uh....yeah. That's how I incorporated Non-Conventional Relationships into my uhhh..deeply complex mental world that isn't written down yet besides glimpses in comics I make in photoshop.

If anyone read this far I will genuinely be so surprised, cause I literally just wrote an essay about their entire relationship lol

I feel like I could type anything down here and be safe cause it's hidden in a cattacomb full of TEXT like lemme just-

(I laughed at the second one til i crrriieeeddddd bro thats so foul)

But if you did read this all, thank you SO SO SO MUCH! As you can probably tell, I think about this a lot. And these characters mean a lot to me so I love sharing them when I can. I hope this helped someone and someone finds it helpful or at least entertaining! You rock <3

Writing this is normal, well-adjusted behavior. Cringe is dead.

Stream Diane and Hobie's album 'BackAlleyJazzLettuce' aka their Funk-Rock fusion ship playlist

Now take this photo of Hobie Kissy Kissy Face and get off my property.

Bye.

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blahblahblees · 2 months

Note

hiii! i followed you on your old account and i am a huge fan of your chase davenport writings! could i request something in which reader gets partnered with chase for a project (maybe he's admired them from afar?) and they have to come over to his house to work with him and they end up meeting the whole family? i think that'd be super cute!!

you're such a talented writer and i'm so excited for your new account! good luck!

ヽ｀、☁ヽ｀─── these words ミ chase davenport

✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── math was never really her strong suit and when her teacher tells her she needs to get a tutor in order to pass, she enlist on the help of chase davenport… and his family.

wc: 1,227

chase davenport x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns & use of y/n)

tw: none!

MATH WAS never really anyone’s strong suit at Mission Creek and if you found yourself passing without needing a tutor, you might as well consider yourself lucky.

And she couldn’t believe that she was standing in front of her teacher with the fattest frown on her face as she told her that she needed to find a tutor or else she would gradually find herself failing that class.

She didn’t want a tutor and she didn’t know anyone that could tutor her, but her teacher, Ms. Burke, told her that she could try and get in touch with Chase Davenport. According to her, he was her top student and would mostly like tutor her with no problem.

And she had no problem with Chase at all, in fact, the boy was adorable in his own way. He wasn’t very tall, in fact, he might only be a couple of inches taller than his brother, Leo. He was also a nerd, a cute nerd. He wasn’t like his other siblings Adam or Bree either. He was his own person and that’s what she liked about him.

They weren’t really friends, but they shared two classes together and worked on an english project together.

So, she wasn’t hesitant in approaching Chase, it was the fact that he was scared to approach her.

Chase thought she was beautiful and you’d be blind to think otherwise. To him, her hair was perfect, the way the light shined down on her skin made her look just as beautiful as she did at night. Just everything about her was beautiful and he was nervous around her.

And when Ms. Burke told him that she needed a tutor and he was the perfect candidate, he was hesitant to jump at the opportunity, but with a big breath and a heavy slap on the back from Adam, Chase found himself almost flying towards her locker.

She looked back to see Chase on the other side of her locker and she gave him a small smile which caused him jerk himself up and prop himself up against a nearby locker.

“Hey, Chase.” She smiled. “Did Ms. Burke ever get in touch with you about tutoring me?”

Chase nodded almost too quickly. “Yes, and I’d be happy to tutor you.”

“Great. That really means a lot.” She said, shutting her locker which caused the boy to flinch. “I’m free tonight if that works for you.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed.

She smiled, letting a small chuckle out as Chase cleared his throat and nodded.

“I mean, yes.” He said. “Yes, I am free tonight. To tutor.”

“Great. I’ll be over at 7.”

With that, you left Chase’s side as he held a small smile on his face, but that smile didn’t stay long when he realized that his family would be home and they would make this tutoring session the absolute worst for him.

CHASE HAD practically begged everyone in the Dooley-Davenport household to not embarrass him in front of her. To stay out of the living room until she left their house a couple of hours later. And he hoped he could actually rely on them to keep their and of the deal.

And soon enough, there was a small knock on the door and Chase stood to open it.

“Y/N!” He smiled. “Come in.”

She smiled, nodding as she stepped inside the Dooley-Davenport house. The house was smelled clean and of floral, something she sure had been the doing of their mother.

“Take a seat.” Chase smiled.

She joined Chase on the couch and pulled her textbook out of her bag.

“Thanks again for helping me out Chase.” She smiled. “I owe you big time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, pulling out his own book. “As long as you’re passing, that’s all that matters.”

Soon enough, they began their tutoring session, but that didn’t last very long when Eddy lit up against the wall and smiled a very cocky, almost condescending smile.

“Yes, Eddy?” Chase begrudgingly asked.

“Maybe greet me with kindness as I warn you that Adam is about to enter the kitchen.”

Chase groaned and just like that, Adam enter the kitchen very nonchalantly and opened the refrigerator door and grabbing a handful of junk and laid it out on the counter, making a ton of noise as Chase and Y/N looked onward.

“Can we help you?” Chase asked, getting Adam’s attention.

Adam looked up, smiling towards them. “No, you’re fine. I’ve got this.”

Chase looked over at the girl with a small, fakeish smile as he held his finger up. “Give me one minute.” He muttered and made his way over towards Adam to scold him and ask why he’d come up to the kitchen.

“Here comes another.” Eddy laughed.

Just like that, Leo entered the living room.

“Has anyone see my phone?” He asked. “I’ve been looking for it for twenty minutes too long?”

And another.

“Thank God.” She smiled, joining Y/N on the couch. “I know Chase doesn’t really want us up here-“

“Wait? Why?” She asked.

“Oh…” Bree smiled. “because tutoring is… special… between two people, but I really need some advice about this guy I’m into and you’re the only girl here and-“

“Guys!” Chase shouted, causing all heads to turn his way. “Can we talk for a moment? In the hallway.”

The three followed the youngest Davenport into the hallway and down to the lab, shouting and asking why they had all come upstairs when he’d specifically asked them not to.

Everyone had pretty blunt answers, but Adam claimed that he didn’t think it was today even though Chase had made the agreement hours before she arrived and explained throughly that she would be here… today.

Chase sighed heavily, leaving his siblings alone in the lab and back upstairs, seeing that Eddy had grown into conversation with Y/N and showing her embarrassing pictures of him.

Chase quickly scolded that him and joined Y/N on the couch. He sighed heavily and faced her.

“I’m so sorry.” He said. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

She smiled, chuckling as she did so. “It’s okay, Chase. I don’t mind.”

“Trust me,” he sighed. “you will.”

Eventually, they were able to finally get the tutoring session done and over with without the distractions of his siblings who’d he locked down in the lab.

“Thanks for the help, Chase. I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He smiled, standing up and following her to the door, opening it for her. “I’m here to help. And I’m really sorry about my family-”

“I told you not to worry about them.” She chuckled. “I like them.”

“You do?”

She nodded, holding her textbook close and bag slowly falling off her shoulder. “I do.” She smiled. “I’m sure we need more tutoring in order for me to pass… but maybe we can just… hang out one day.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She smiled. “You have my number. Just let me know when you’re free-“

“Tomorrow?”

She chuckled once more, nodding as she did so. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase.”

With that, she waved him goodbye and Chase shut the door behind him. Once that door was shut, the boy practically jumped to his feet in excitement.

And he was very, very thankful that his family hadn’t totally ruined the night for him.

— lucy has something to say !!

after rereading the prompt given i don’t think this is what they truly wanted lol but thank you for returning it means a lot :)

my request are opened! check out my masterlist and who i write for here: yipyip

check out my rules and such to make sure you’re ask gets answered here: yingyang

#lab rats #lab rats elite force #chase davenport #chase davenport imagines #disney channel #disney channel imagines #disney xd #disney x imagines #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport x fem reader #lab rats imagines #lab rats elite force imagines #imagines #blurbs #wips #writing #lab rats bionic island #chase davenport blurbs #lab rats x reader

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ghostingcrows · 1 year

Text

I used to talk about this a lot but

IDW Prowl is probably one of the most complex characters in the comics and I absolutely hate it when hes reduced down to “the asshole character”

Cause like

Yeah sure hes got a bit of a stick up his ass

But I feel like people just end there analysis of him there

Has he committed a lot of war crimes and done unethical stuff

Yes

But so has literally EVERYONE else in this universe

Starscream is literally the pinnacle of war crimes

The comics make a point calling out even Optimus for his questionable actions and orders during the war with the Dinobots saying he makes them do the dirty work for him

Megatron literally commits genocide and yet his story ends with an alternate version of him going free and exploring the universe with the LL

The literal war lord was treated better and is looked upon more positively than Prowl and I think it just came down to how fucked Prowl got by the writers

Because while Megatrons redemption was all in your face and you got a shit ton of flashbacks that try to justify the eventual atrocities he would commit you don’t get that with Prowl

Even when Prowl is absolutely in the right you constantly have it disregarded by characters making jokes about him overreacting (being mad OP is sending the space tyrant away with free reign of his own ship isn’t overreacting btw-) and as such you start to think of him as a genuinely irrational character when hes not

Prowl is bad at keeping the relationships he forms yes

But he is not always at fault for that

While his relationship with CD ended poorly Chromedome is also shown to be kinda of a dick sometimes and commits his fair share of fucked up things such as when he literally ATTACKS PROWL AND FORCES HIS WAY INTO HIS MIND TO PROTECT HIMSELF FROM THE CONSEQUENCE OF HIS ACTIONS WHEN PROWL THREATENS TO TELL REWIND ABOUT THE SHITTY STUFF HE DID IN HIS PAST

This leads to Prowls inevitable snowball out of control when this attack leads to an opening for Bombshell (I think its been a while since I read the comics) to use his tech to mind control him forcing him into combining with the contructicons

Something we learn is an immensely intimate thing with their minds being kinda melded

This was something Prowl did not want

And when all was said and done and he was calmed down he still had to live with that gesalt he was forced into with them following him around like fanboys

Nobody ever even really stopped to check in on him

And as such he understandable went a little bit insane

He had just faced an immensely traumatic invasion of his body and mind and on top of stress form feeling like everything was out of his control and like he couldn’t stop the bad things from happening alongside bitter emotions being brought back up with a return visit to Earth and reunion with spike AND the fact that he feels like Optimus doesn’t trust him and like hes just letting Starscream do whatever he want (something that understandably freaks him out seeing as how he spent 4 million years fighting Starscream) he just kinda snaps

He trys to destroy the space bridge so that no one else can leave or get through and so he can regain some semblance of control

Is it wrong

Yes

But he was not in a good state of mind and no one was helping him at all

And immediately following his arrest afterward Prowl is confronted by OP who is supposed to be his friend and when Prowl doesn’t say the right things to him to placate him Optimus’ response is to punch him out a window and beat the shit out of him

And not being given any room to breath this is immediately follow up my him getting kidnapped by Tarantulas who is very obviously an impactful and negative part of his past

Prowl just has bad event, one after the other, happen to him over and over again and not only does no one check up on him afterwards to see if hes okay but everyone actively makes fun of him for being understandable unstable

Prowl is a fucking tragedy and not many people seem to be able to see beyond what characters in the comics think of him

#IDW #Prowl #IDW prowl #Asher writing entire essays about the complex nature of a character most people hate-#I will defend IDW Prowl to my death #and I know a lot of people like to point fingers at him for war crimes and questionable actions #but like again almost everyone in IDW has commited a few war crimes #and he was literally the second in command of the entire army #of course he would have had to take on the brunt of the shitty questionable orders #I also think its weird that so many characters point out hes always the one ordering the shitty stuff but never wants to get his hands dirty #but then OP does the same thing and literally ONLY the dinobots point it out #optimus prime #megatron #lost light #taurantulas #starscream

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gojofavho3 · 7 months

Text

Ngl, I was really horny and sleepy while doing this, AND ALSO there so little when it comes to toji x male reader, so why not doing it now?

Also English it's not my first language, and I'm not really the best writer, at least that's what I think but that is for you to judge

This story contains heavily smut, read at your own risk ‼️

A few months ago you let toji fushiguro live with you, He was going through some crises after his wife died, and he spent a lot of his money gambling after coming back for his old tendencies, so he was totally homeless. with that you let him and his son to live with you

You knew toji for a long time, 3-5 years, he usually would go to the bar you worked almost every night, and with time, you two got close

and it led you to where you are now

Legs spred wide, handcuffed with your hands attached to the headboard legs, d1ck overstimulated of coming so much in that night, blindfolded, Some headphones with loud music so you couldn't hear anything, his boxers in your mouth, why the boxers you said? Well because you don't have any gag, and I'm sure that guy wouldn't buy one

While toji is sitted on the chair Infront of the bed looking directly to your hole while smoking some cigarette that you had in the pack of cigarettes in the kitchen table

Staring especially in his cum that is leaving your pretty hole right now as it doing a mini pool on the bed sheets covering the blue sheets between your legs to white as your chest goes up and down like kenjaku jumping on itadori father

Toji gets up and walks slowly to you, butt naked, still with the cigarette in hand, as he takes the blindfold and headphones, Throwing them to the other side of the bed, you hear the headphones hitting on the wall

phumb!!

you can still some parts of the music because they're not so far away.

While your focus on that, toji is looking in your watery eyes as he bends over and gives a small kiss on the tears, as your attention is on him again, his hands travel over your body, turning you onto your stomach, Then grabbing your ass, spreading your butt cheeks with one hand looking at your asshole, as he sits on your back, you can feel his balls making contact with your upper part of your back

He rubbs it with his thumb open it a little more, he puts the cigarette on your hole. Your eyes wined as your feel you hole squeezing it, as you try to say something, but can't because of his boxers on your mouth

After a few seconds he takes it out, putting the cigarette on the ashtray in the headboard next to the bed, he slaps your ass lightly, starting to eat you out, you moan and whimper through the boxers, as he stays there eating you out for like .... 15? 20 minutes maybe? You cummed at least two times, in those two toji leaked all like it was cake

No matter how many time passed it or how many times you cummed, it looked like the clook didn't move not even a inche, you were tired but very satisfied

He finally stops, getting out of your back, taking the wet boxers out of your mouth as you give a loud breath trough your mouth

He goes to bathroom putting the boxers there and take paper to clean you off, as your conscious goes away closing your eyes as you feel the world doing spins, as you feel your arms free and toji cleaning you up

After some time he puts one of his shirts, like one of the 3 he has, and cleans boxers, as he puts you inside the covers, yes, he also cleaned the wet spots that you soiled with your juices, well, not only your juices

As toji still doesn't know much about pda, he didn't join you in bed, he just stared at your sleepy form for a bit with a slight smile, And then he went to the living room to think about the things watching some random shit

" hm... next time I should go rougher, this was just to experience, for now.. "

Well, and where was Megumi in all this? Don't worry, dear reader, somehow toji managed to convince Shiu to take care of him, after all, it wasn't the first time that it happened

I started this at 1:34

It's 4:25 am, I need to sleep so bad, I rushed a little at the end tbh

Well, till next time

#jjk x male reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut

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moonrisecoeur · 5 months

Note

IM BACK CUZ IM MENTALLY UNWELL OK. and yes you’re the best sub Leon writer 😏🥱 and yes I liked it, SITTING ON HIS FACE? 😍🥱

I’m so sorry for blasting ur req box but YOURE AN ACTUALLY GOOD SUB LEON WRITER SO can you blame me? concept: idk why but re4 Leon is so free use coded and so imagine he is on a mission with a new assigned partner but she’s an asshole to him (“fuck off man, I can do it myself, “I don’t need your help”, “you’re too nice and gonna be taken advantage of 😐”, etc. You get the gist) and his goofy ass just tryna be nice and helpful, cuz this is leon we are talking about. But the fun part ⁉️ they have cameras installed in the hideout they are saying at for security purposes. But ofc, Leon always tries to check on reader to make sure she’s ok - even if she’s an asshole to him. AND YK WHAT READER DOES 😭 she’s way too horny and just goes at it, girl got a masturbation problem on god. Every night. One night - wrong time and place - Leon opens his laptop to see the cameras making sure she’s ok AND HELP HE SEES HER … yk. And he feels guilty like he shouldn’t watch but he does anyways. And this goes on for weeks. Until one night he’s sick and tired of her always being so mean and he accidentally lets it slip that he’s been watching her LOL AND SHES LIKE UHM BOY WHAT 🙄⁉️ and he tries to play it off like “I didnt mean to” but like, my brother in Christ… you’ve been watching every night for weeks 🤨 wdym you didn’t mean to? ANYWAYS LONG STORY SHORT SHE PUNISHES HIM AND HEAVYYYY ON THE FREE USE THING. Love you bae 😘

i made a couple minor changes just for convenience :) fem reader she/her pronouns!

also i didn’t write the smex scene IM SORRY but i have been working on this all day and i need to get to other asks but i promise i’ll write some more free use in the future because it’s so smexy

"look, i know you don't like me-"

"oh? really? tell me what you think you know, kennedy," you scowl at him, and though it spooks him just a little, he tries to seem unphased.

he frowns, not hurt by your words but definitely concerned that you'll make a bad partner, "you don't need to be this hostile. we're allies. we're supposed to have each other's backs."

"right..." your voice echos, and leon knows that if it came down to it, you wouldn't protect him, wouldn't save him, would barely help him. he's practically on his own for this mission, just has an extra body with him to shoot at the bad guys.

it hurts, to some degree, because even without knowing you well, and even with you being cold and rude to him, he knows he'd come to your rescue in a heartbeat. something about him feels fond of you, even though in your entire time knowing leon kennedy, you haven't said one nice thing to him.

he thinks that maybe he likes that you've never been nice to him. he doesn't really know what to do with that thought.

leon is proved wrong.

despite the harshness of your words, you come to his rescue, fighting off the villager who almost decapitated him with an axe like both of your lives depend on it (because they do).

he watches you fight nervously, but when you come out on top, aside from the gash wound you take to the hip, he feels his heart skip a beat.

"this is what happens when you hurt my partner," you groan, holding your side, trying to speak through the pain even though leon can see the blood seeping between your fingers.

you whisper something in your victim's ear, something leon can't quite make out, before you kill him. leon wonders what it was briefly. he decides it doesn’t matter.

you both breathe a sigh of relief, but it's short lived as you collapse to the ground. you saved him. you got hurt saving him.

"here, let me help you," he mutters, coming over to you, not even stopping to ask if you want his help because he knows you'll say no, "stop fighting me. you're hurt and i need to patch you up."

the pain is agonizing, but even through gritted teeth and tense breaths, you push through it. he has to commend you a little bit, you're tougher than you look.

but when you try to push his hand away, claiming "i'm fine, kennedy," he sees the struggle in your face, hears the hurt in your voice. his heart seems to stop. he's worried, "i can do it myself, you don't have to- fuck, dude, i don't need your help-."

"-just relax, okay? i got you..”

you don't have the strength to push him away, but you know you shouldn't anyway, so you just slouch back against the wall and try to breathe, "fine, just fuckin... hurry up."

"i'm just trying to take care of you. we're partners, right? i gotta look out for you," he smiles, trying to lighten the mood even slightly. he wishes that this would be the time the barriers come down, that those skyscraper walls that prevented him from coming any closer to you emotionally could come crashing down, if only for a moment.

"you don't have to do anything. you're choosing to put yourself in danger to help me," you groan as you lean back, looking up at the ceiling, "suprised that no one's tried to take advantage of your willingness to help before."

"someone did," he mutters annoyedly, focusing more on the wound then it being your wound, on your body. his eyebrows, almost naturally furrowed from years of stress, somehow make his face even more sad to gaze upon. it's not that he's unattractive, far from it, but he's... worn. tired. a piece of your heart, no matter how far you keep away from him, aches in sympathy.

leon carries you back to the safe room, a hideout you both are using to rest and recover in while you plot your next move. he lays his jacket on the ground to at least give you something comfortable to lie on. you don't look comfortable, but he can't do anything else to help you.

he looks through his things, trying to concoct something that will at least make you feel a little bit better. he finds a first aid spray, and his heart jumps out of his chest in excitement. he uses it to take care of your wound, and waits for you to wake up from your unconscious state.

he decides to go back out, hoping to maybe find some other things to help you both on your mission. he knows you'll berate him for leaving on his own, risking his own life needlessly. but god if he didn't imagine what it would be like if he found something you could really use, and watch your eyes light up. even if you didn't like him, you'd be happy. he wants to see you smile, to praise him for a job well done.

he cringes at how pathetic it sounds, but he sets off either way, leaving you wrapped in his jacket with a note from him saying what he's doing.

he doesn't do it intentionally. at least... not the first time. genuinely, he just wanted to check up on you, make sure you were alive and breathing and safe. and you definitely were.

he doesn't know why its so hypnotizing, why he can't put his goddamn phone away with the stupid security app on it. of course it's you, though. you're hypnotizing.

he watches every pixel, every distorted view of you touching yourself in the safe room, obviously unaware that he could... see this. he's glad there's no audio, or else he'd be unable to control himself, even in an abandoned building surrounded by zombies. maybe its the years that haven hardened him, burned the fear out of his soul and numbed him to the presence of those things, but he doesn't feel anything but uncontrollable desire right now.

have you been doing it the whole time? you both had spilt off from each other multiple times, and he would almost be upset at the idea that every time he was fighting for his life and barely, barely winning that fight each time, you were getting off a couple hundred feet from him in another room... if it wasn't so fucking hot to watch you masturbate.

he keeps watching until he notices that you're having an orgasm, body twitching and your chest heaving up and down as you take deep breathes. it's so fucking sexy, leon probably could have cum on the spot if he watched anymore.

you keep doing it. he keeps watching it. over the course of the mission (of course he had to be stuck on a long, secluded recon mission with you of all people) he's watched you too many times. he doesn't think he has enough fingers to count how many times, which either means he's been on this mission longer than he thought or you have a fucking addiction. he's almost kind of impressed at how efficient you are. takes you 10 minutes tops, and then you just get back up and keep on trucking? his sentimental, post-nut ass could never.

and, though you recovered from your wound, you haven't displayed any sense of gratitude for leon taking care of you when you passed out after getting hurt. not that he expects it, truthfully. you saved his life, he saved yours. you were even.

he just doesn't feel like he's broken any new ground. he feels like, if anything, you feel even further away, emotionally. he's about had it.

"hey, we need to talk," he says, ominously; he doesn't intend it to be so, "i understand you don't like me. it's fine. i don't even care anymore. but i am tired of you talking to me like i'm a pushover."

you look over at him, reloading your gun with a displeased look on your face. leon hates the inner urge he has to cave and apologize to you, as if his body would rather give up any sense of dignity he still has in favor of being slightly more tolerable to you.

"well? are you going to say something?"

you scoff, looking away, "didn't know you were so fucking sensitive, kennedy," and you turn around, ready to walk out, before he snaps, "this isn't a pleasure trip. sorry you're not having a good time."

"clearly you're having a good time with all the pleasure you're giving yourself while i'm trying not to die."

he stops. panicking. trying to think of how to spin the words he just said and make it not sound like he knew every tell you had when you were about to cum or exactly how you touch yourself in order to get yourself off quickly.

you stop as well. and you look back at him with this expression on your face that is completely unreadable.

maybe it wasn't the best move to reveal the only card he had left to play if it mean he would get this reaction out of you considering that, again, you so clearly do not like him.

... right?

"what... did you say, kennedy?" you ask, pure venom in your voice. it's not a question, you so clearly heard him correctly.

"i- i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that-"

"have you been watching me?" you take a step closer, eyes boring into his soul so intensely he can't make eye contact. he has no way out of this situation. he feels out of breath, nervous, god why are you getting so close to him? "answer me, leon," not kennedy, leon, "have you been watching me masturbate?"

he looks up, trying to keep himself from making eye contact. he knows the second he looks into your eyes, he will be putty in your hands, free for you to mold into whatever you'd like. he knows you're not looking at him with distain like usual, it's something else.

something hungry.

"yeah," he breathes, barely getting the world out at all. you take a deep breath, as if you're debating what you're going to do.

"what you did was wrong, you see that, right?"

"yes, i know, but-"

you scoff, annoyed. god why in this moment, just inches away from you, you notice the moles on his neck, the angle of his jaw, the entrancing aura of his eyes. it's so damn distracting, and you have to pull yourself together, "but nothing. you watched me without my consent, you got off on it, didn't you?"

"god, you're making it sound so bad, i... i'm sorry, okay? how can i make it up to you?" he asks, trying so damn hard as always to please.

this is where you come to realize that maybe you didn't hate leon kennedy all this time. maybe you found yourself too comfortable, too at ease in his presence. maybe he was safe and sweet and gentle and it didn't sit right because nothing in a world with zombies and bioweapons and cults and parasites was gentle. but leon is.

you look down, considering your options, "i have an idea. you're free to refuse and we go back to before, and you get nothing from me. do you want to hear it?"

"sure?"

you take a breath, going for it, "i’ll be… blunt. if you couldn’t tell, i’m a bit.. insatiable. i need something to get myself off now that i’m getting bored of my own hands out here. you help me, and i’ll forgive you for watching me.”

his thoughts stop. he genuinely can’t put together a coherent thought, what did you mean? "are you.. are you fucking serious? you barely speak to me, every time you do speak to me you act like i'm the scum of the earth, you act like i'm not here when i saved your ass and carried you and patched you up, i-”

you cut him off with a kiss. it’s not gentle, it’s rough and messy and your fingers dig into the skin of his cheeks, leaving him red and breathless. he finally gets it. you don’t want him to help you, you want to use him.

he lets you push him down, pin his body to the wall as you kiss him breathless. he lets you dig your nails into his neck even if it hurts. he lets you touch and kiss him as rough or as gentle as you like. and you don’t like being gentle, clearly.

“use me,” he whispers between kisses, and when you pull away, eyeing him intently, as if urging him to explain himself, he does, “do whatever you want. just keep going until you’re satisfied. don’t… don’t hold back. whatever pleases you… i want that. i want to please you.”

“awh, you just want me to be happy with you, don’t you?” you coo at him, endeared by his selflessness. truly a good man in a bad world, “that’s all you’ve ever wanted, hm? for me to like you?”

his resolve cracks just a little bit more, “uhm, yeah…” he his voice is shaky, unsteady, and he just needs to give in.

“then you’re going to let me do this every single time in horny and need something to get myself off. i’m going to do whatever i want to you, and i’m not going to ask. you’re just going to let me. if you don’t, then we go right back to being enemies, and you really don’t want that, right?”

he stutters aimlessly, his knees going weak. he’d truly be done for if you weren’t hold him up with a strength he did not know you had.

and you just keep going, “i’m not going to ask or care if it’s a bad time. i want it to be inconvenient, uncomfortable, ill-timed. i want it to be permanently in your head that i can have you whenever i want you. that i can do whatever i want to you.”

“only i get to have you, got it?”

“g-got it,” he mutters weakly, feeling your hands on him, touching him in places he hasn’t been touched in a while. he didn’t realize how desperate he was.

“only i get to touch you, only i… get to fuck you.”

he nods helplessly.

“it’s too bad i didn’t bring a dildo in my bag when we set off for this mission, because i would so fuck you with it until you’re seeing stars and apologizing for going behind my back… but i suppose i’ll just have to satisfy myself with your cock…”

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aclowntiny · 11 months

Note

HIIIIII [first I wanna say that I love your work so much and am so happy to meet an atiny/carat writer! I hope we can become moots!]

I do have a request and it is: ateez reacting to s.o kissing their neck

take your time, and good luck with all of ur work, fighting!!

YES WE SO CAN!!! 🥰 Thank you so much for the encouragement love! I hope you love this reaction 😊

Ateez Reaction to S/O Kissing Their Neck

I'll give this my classic rating but up it for this one… 🤏🏻🤏🏻 suggestive hehe 👀👀👀

Hongjoong

You couldn't take the way his eyes devoured you, treasured you, any more. Inhaling, you quickly shut the space between you and Hongjoong, all the lightning tension between you arcing into your joined lips as his grip on your hip tightened. It was a short but passionate kiss, one that had Hongjoong giving you a smile of pleasant surprise afterward.

"Oh?"

"Yep," you replied, "and I'm just getting started."

Pecking his lips several times, you migrated from their softness to trace the beautiful structure of his face, outlining his cheekbone and down to his jaw with your lips.

He gave an exasperated chuckle. "I'm supposed to be the one spoiling you," he said even as he tilted his head to grant you access, smiling impishly down at you.

"Maybe I get something out of this, too," you teased back, kisses resuming in full swing, this time down his neck and into the territory availed to you by his partially-unbuttoned shirt.

"Alright, but anything you're giving me, I'm going to pay back double," Hongjoong tells you with a grin that sends shivers down your spine as you part from his chest to gaze at him.

"H-how are you going to do that?" You faltered slightly underneath that intense gaze you loved so much.

"Let's just say," his lips curl up even further, the hand on your hip drawing light circles, "by the time I'm done, everyone will know you're mine."

Seonghwa

Seonghwa is in the kitchen standing over a mixing bowl of batter when he feels arms snake around his waist and lips against his neck.

He giggles deeply. "That better be (y/n)," he teases.

Your hands nudge his sides, prompting him to set the spoon in his hand down and turn to face you, smiling at the loving expression on your face. His hands wrap around you, too, both of you standing in an embrace against the counter.

“It’s my lucky day,” he keeps joking, leaning down to brush your nose with his, “it is you. My (y/n).”

You smile at the pet name, moving your hands to fall around his neck, which you press one more quick kiss to. “Always.”

He leans down, kisses your forehead first before moving to your cheek, then pecking your lips several times, smiling and exhaling little chuckles against them as you leaned forward for more.

“I have to finish up here! Want to help me?”

You nod, lowering your hands to back hug him again.

“Alright,” he shakes his head fondly at your clinginess, “help me stir, then the real work begins.” He reaches to his waist, taking hold of your hands, placing the spoon in your dominant one and using it to mix the batter as he kept seasoning it.

After that, you dedicated yourself to actual tasks, but each time you passed Seonghwa by, you pressed a kiss to his cheeks or neck, enjoying the surprise and wide, almost childlike smile of joy that crossed his face every single time.

Yunho

It's not like you don't want to do it, frankly, but you mainly want to get Yunho's attention. You're sinking into couch cushions, sunlight lazily filters through the blinds, and Yunho is playing some video game or another. You stopped paying attention, instead visually tracing his focused side profile, eyes drinking in every shift and narrow of his own, the way his thumbs dart over the controller.

Watching your boyfriend play doesn’t bother you, but you are getting a bit bored. He isn’t always granted a surplus of free time, after all, & the most selfish voice of your mind is vying for the argument that he should spend it with you. Instead of whining, though, which you have the sense to realize no one enjoys, you simply scoot in closer, cushions creaking faintly beneath you, and gently run your fingers over Yunho’s jawline, pulling close enough to press your lips to his neck. As badly as you want his lips on yours, interrupting a man’s game is never a good idea.

He tenses a bit beneath your touch, breaths coming a little faster. “Wh- what are you doing?” He asks.

You press a few more kisses, moving a bit lower each time. “I don’t know, you’re playing your game, I just want to appreciate you.”

“Maybe when I’m done with this round-”

“Maybe when you’re done with this round…”

You both spoke at the same time. Giggling into his neck, you get closer still, legs pressed against his as he gave a few giggles of his own.

“Maybe what?” You ask, tilting your head so that he’s almost forced to face you.

“Just wait and see,” he smiles, leaning forward to place a quick peck to your lips before his focus returns to the screen.

Yeosang

You and Yeosang were on the couch, both of you on your backs, your head resting over his heart. Neither of you had spoken for a bit, just enjoying the small sunbeams filtering in through the window as you played gently with Yeosang’s hand that was slung over you.

On a whim you turned slightly, careful that your hip wouldn’t dig into him, and leaned up just a little bit higher, your head reaching the crook of Yesosang’s neck. Your lips fell into place, ghosting over his skin at first, but when you felt him shift a bit beneath you, clearly starting a little at the sudden warmth, it spurred you on.

This time, you kissed him unabashedly, giving the exposed skin long, slow appreciation. Drawing out every motion you possibly could. Your hand that was playing with his gave it a little squeeze.

“What’s this?” Yeosang asks, eyes wide and sounding a bit flustered.

You can’t help but giggle at the pure and wholesome man you love so much. “You mean you don’t know?” You reply.

“Well, ah, I mean…” He stutters as you place the longest, most lingering kiss yet at the very base of his throat, a small gasp escaping with the trailed-off words.

You lift yourself up on your elbows, pulling up still so your heads are in line and sparing your boyfriend, just rubbing your noses together with a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, starting to lay back down, but his hand catches yours.

“No,” he says, gaze following yours down, “please continue.”

San

“Sannie, no!” You giggle, running away from your boyfriend, with whom you are currently locked in a playful chase along the grass.

He’s proudly brandishing a water gun, smug grin more than evident on his face as he barrels toward you. “Sannie, yes!”

“No!” You exclaim, turning on your heels and running around a garden wall, stopping to catch a few shaking, laughing breaths.

You’d tossed a water balloon at him, your entire arsenal, and now San sees fit to get you back for it. His revenge is quite disproportionate in your eyes, for even with as warm as it was you aren’t exactly in the mood to get soaked.

San is close; the grass rustles and he whispers “I’m gonna get you!”

“Not today!” You shout back, peeling out from around the wall and back towards those of the house, bare feet padding against the soft green grass.

San quickly catches up, giggling as he backs you into a corner, raising the blue and green plastic abomination in his hand. It’s going to take a massive trump card to escape this one…or maybe you’re overthinking it.

Stepping forward in the little space you have left, you reach your arms around San, hands gently running up and down his back. His smug expression immediately begins softening, the gorgeous soft eyes you love on him starting to pop out. With a smile, you lean in to give his neck a few kisses, feeling him crane to open up more as you do so. He’s warm beneath your touch, pulse pounding from all the running; you kiss right over the pulse point, wondering if you can make it go even faster.

Before you can wonder much more San is sweeping you into his arms, booping your nose and telling you how cute you are before yanking you into his lips. One hand holds you, the other reaches up into your hair, and as your lips move against his you slide San’s offending water rifle closer to you with your foot, stepping down on it as hard as you can. San trails kisses of his own down your neck before peppering your cheeks, expression melting at the fact that you initiated affection.

When you finally separate, San ruffles your hair and giggles. You step back a bit, holding up your contraband water rifle. “So, truce then?”

Mingi

"I can be cool!" You protested against Mingi's teasing. You know he thinks you're the coolest person alive, but you and your boyfriend had gotten into a playful debate on if you could be a rapper.

"Oh, yeah? Prove it, then," Mingi shot back with a grin.

"Ok, fine," you all but pouted, "I will."

Giving him a light shove, you watched him stumble back a little, taking the opportunity to lead him a couple more steps until his back hit the wall. Leaning forward, you rested your left palm against it at his side, eyes traveling up to his in the best approximation of the classic pose as you could attempt. Mingi's jaw dropped a bit, raising the corners of your lips in a satisfied smile. You leaned up and placed a kiss to his neck.

"See? I can do the bad boy pose. I'm cool," you say as you start to walk off.

Mingi's hand catches your left hand as it peels from the wall, though, and you feel the tug, turning back to face him with a tilt of your head. He's looking at you with doe eyes, his buggy expression of surprise fading to affection.

"You are cool, but don't take my job," he says.

You giggle, and he reels you back into his chest, your hand falling there as his that isn't holding yours rests on your back, bringing you forward into an electrifying kiss. You feel his heartbeat beneath your palm, the way his hand lightly squeezes and plays with yours as your lips move in sync. You trap Mingi again as he pulls away, this time not against the wall, but with his forehead against yours.

"You have nothing to worry about, my cool guy."

Wooyoung

It was all impulse, really. Wooyoung was teaching you a couples’ dance he wanted to try, and frankly it was quite…intimate. A bit Latin-inspired, it had some close moves that reminded you of the tango followed by him pulling you close. When he did that, he also rolled his head back, exposing the skin of his neck and making that much more of a show from his quite notably unbuttoned black shirt.

Wooyoung viewed his body as part of the art and you couldn’t help but agree. The third time you practiced getting swept into his arms, his head rolling away as you were held against the warmth of his chest, his heart hammering beneath you, you leaned forward, your lips finding his throat like they were magnetized there.

You felt him give a deep hum beneath you as he, rather than step into the sequence's next move, immediately slid both of his hands to be flush around your waist. When you pulled away slightly, Wooyoung attacked, his own lips latching onto the spot above your collarbone. His hips angled, drifting forward until they were fully flush against yours.

"So this is what you want, huh?"

"Well," you teased, voice low as Wooyoung’s lips traveled down and then back up, “seems like you do too."

"Of course," he agreed as he trailed kisses up your neck and to your cheek, "why would I not?"

Jongho

It was one of your greatest joys in life to have such a sensible, loving boyfriend at your side. However, he wasn’t the most into physical touch, at least not nearly as much as you were. Sometimes Jongho just needed some encouragement.

He lay at your side, half under the sheets and half out, just plaintively staring at the ceiling as he rested on his back, not one part of him touching you. You felt your lips fall into a pout, wishing he would cuddle with you now that your bedtime conversation had ceased, dreamy words subsiding in favor of that near-sleep contemplative state.

You knew part of it was that he didn’t want to overstep boundaries, didn’t want to disturb you. But if that was the case, you considered as you shifted in the sheets, mattress creaking a bit beneath your motion, it was your job to show him he would not be disturbing you in the slightest. And you knew exactly what would flip Jongho’s affection switch.

Scooting closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, snuggling into his neck and kissing him before he could protest or question the sudden gesture. Sure enough, you felt Jongho relax, firm muscles melting still after a momentary freeze. As you nuzzled in, lips still traveling, he tilted his head, giving you greater access, and you smiled. Jackpot.

Jongho loved it when you kissed his neck, and you sure didn't mind taking advantage of that fact, especially right then. He flipped over from his back to his side, suddenly facing you, those big beautiful eyes you loved staring intently.

"Why this all of a sudden?"

"Because I love you," you replied, eyelashes fluttering.

"Well, let me return the favor, too," he told you, propping his head up with one hand.

You couldn't resist a smile as he pulled you closer.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seongwha #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #gender neutral reader #requested #moots 💕

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kingdumkum · 11 months

Text

WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA

this has been a long, long time coming. hopefully it’ll live up to the obscenely high expectations i’ve set. agree or disagree, please reblog/comment/send an anon with your thoughts--but make sure you read the RULES of interaction first.

summary: your date stood you up… again. Don’t worry, though, Baji will be there to pick up the pieces, like he always is. The only question… what will you do when you find out his secret? wc: 15k (we don't talk about it)

cw: virgin fem afab!reader x virgin!Baji, a lil itty bitty baby bit of blood, somewhat public (initially), bc why not, marking, creampie, Confessions galore, somewhat gendered pet names (princess, babe, sweetheart), actually gendered pet names (one handful of "good girl," "pretty girl," and "my girl"), subtle yandere themes but not to the extent a DC label is needed—correct me if I’m wrong though—be nice if I missed something, this is my first time :) way too many words but c’est la vie such is the way.

dedication: Storm, my friend, your support and advice has made me a better writer. Without you, this would probably still be sitting in my drafts, collecting dust and every hateful thought I’ve ever had about my writing. Thank you for being you and all of your aid in getting this to where it is. 💛

Your coffee’s cold when you give up. Well—second coffee, to be precise; the first you’d ordered after Tadashi said he was a few minutes away. That one had grown cold too, but the barista, taking pity, had given you a piping hot refill—for free.

It feels like an insult when she offers you a third.

An hour and a half has passed since Tadashi said he’d be there, and… well, you were still kinda hoping he might show up. But when the manager approaches with a tight-lipped smile, not-so-kindly pointing at their hours plastered ever so neatly on the glass door and indicating they’re just a few minutes to closing, your hope ebbs entirely.

The heat in your cheeks could’ve rewarmed your cup—but not one to cause a scene, you offer a tight-lip smile of your own and apologize. You don’t explain that you were waiting for someone; the pitying look in the barista’s eye as she mouths sorry and slides the unwanted third cup your way says they know.

You slip into the bathroom, wondering how in the world you could be so stupid— again. This was your third first date in three months… and the third time in three months that you’ve been stood up.

It hurts more when you check your phone. Two new messages from Emma, asking how it’s going and if you want to grab dinner to dish; one from Draken, asking if you can bring back a vanilla frappe and a triple dark roast espresso with two pumps of caramel; one from Baji, saying he might be late to pick you up, but he’d be there, and could you get him an order of whatever you’re having?

Nothing from Tadashi.

You don’t respond, instead letting your phone rest against the mirror while you stare at your reflection and try, desperately, to convince yourself it isn’t your fault.

Everything had been going great—you thought. You thought he really liked you, that he was excited to get to know you, and that this one, this one for sure would show up. You made jokes that he found funny, you were just the right amount of flirty, and you knew—thought—hoped—the picture you’d sent of your outfit (a simple sundress that accentuated your best features and wedges that made your legs seem endless) was enticing enough that he’d want to see it in person.

But here you are. Crying in the bathroom of a cafe you’ll never be able to return to, wondering how you’re going to explain to your friends that you got stood up.

Again.

Your phone starts to buzz. With a deep breath, you wipe off your dripping mascara. You force yourself to smile at the hollow reflection staring back at you, then answer with an overly-cheerful, “what’s up?”

“Kenny’s worried.” Baji’s familiar drawl echos, making the space seem even smaller. “I said he was being too overprotective, but—well, you know how he is. Said it’s his duty or some shit to make sure you’re okay. He tried to come down here himself, wanted to meet the guy trying to woo you—can you believe that? He actually said woo—“

“What do you want?” you interrupt. Too harsh, you realize when Baji doesn’t answer. “It’s just—I’m kinda in the middle of something, you know?”

Baji takes a moment, then forces a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, the little princess’s got a date, we know. God, they wouldn’t let it go. You should be thanking me, ya know, I’m the only reason they’re not all crashing—”

“Baji.”

The line falls quiet. Then, softly, “where are you, y/n?”

You frown and start searching for your mascara. “At the coffee shop. Why, where are you?”

Another pause. This one heavier. With the phone tucked to one ear, you slowly swipe the wand over your lashes. It’s clumpier than you usually like, but it’s better than nothing—

“I’m outside.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoes. You mouth another fuck, heart plummeting, then start reapplying your mascara. More carefully, now that you’re out of time. “I, uh—I’ve been here. A while.”

“Oh… yeah?” you question, teeth starting to grind. “How long’s a while?”

Baji clears his throat. “Long enough. You gonna come out, or are ya gonna make me come in?”

Mascara gets tossed in your purse, gloss comes out. “You’re not exactly welcome in the ladies room, Baji.”

You can picture the dangerous curl in his smile when he replies, “not without an invitation, babe—why, you asking?”

Your laugh isn’t completely real, but not unnatural, either. You hover the gloss over your lips, and for a moment, you imagine what it’d be like. To sneak someone into the bathroom, kissing until your lips start to bruise, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his lips marking your skin, his voice whispering your name…

You shake the thought away. There’s no point in getting your heart broken twice in one day.

“Three’s a bit of a crowd for a single stall,” you deflect. “Be out in a minute.”

Baji hums. Your gloss feels too thick, but you don’t take it off. You fluff your hair again, placing it the way you like, turning your necklace so the clasp faces the right way, lips smacking together once, twice, three times—

By the time you run out of things to do, you think you’re ready. You pick up your purse and give yourself a final once-over. Pretty, you think. Doesn’t look like you spent the last seven minutes sobbing in a public restroom.

When you exit, Baji’s still on the line, but he doesn’t hang up. You know, because the teasing, “well shit, babe, if I had known you’d worn that, I would’ve come two hours ago,” echoes; once from your phone, and the other from the man himself, standing right in front of you.

You laugh, and this one isn’t forced at all.

Baji’s smile gleams in the evening sun. A low wolf-whistle causes your face to warm pleasantly—the way it should have, when you met Tadashi. You take Baji’s extended hand, not flinching when his callouses rub against your soft palms.

You’re used to their roughness. Much like the others, Baji’s always been a hands-on friend (and fighter), so over the years, you’ve gotten used to the various bumps, cuts, and jagged edges, to the extent that the only hands that’ve ever felt comfortable have been those rough ones, soft only for you.

Baji spins you, over-exaggerating the way he checks you out. “Sweetheart, you’re going to stop traffic looking like that.”

“Oh, please,” you deny, but your smile hasn’t been this genuine all day. “Laying it on a little thick, Baj.”

“Only the realest truth for the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” is his sly reply, accompanied by a slyer wink. It’s his usual charm, but you’re oblivious to his sincerity, the way you always are. Baji pulls you into a tight hug and closes his eyes, and for a moment, he allows himself to pretend this was your intention all along; to wind up in his arms, with his compliments, by his side—the way it always seems to go after every failed date.

But you never say as much, and you always seem so genuinely excited for the next one that he’s never going to ask. Instead, he’ll take these moments. The ones where you turn to him for comfort, where he gets to hold you, your knight-in-shining-armor, and do all that he can to make everything better.

He’s so close that you almost miss his muffled whisper of, “fucking—stupid bastard. Doesn’t know what he’s missed.”

Your smile slips. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, familiarly cracked with scabs that never seem to heal. These are fresh, though; you can tell by how his hand darts to the back of his neck, preventing you from looking too closely.

“Been up to no good?” you question with a raised brow.

“‘Course I have,” he responds easily, “you’ve been busy.”

Baji won’t meet your gaze. ‘If only you knew,’ he thinks—but he’ll never say it. Not that. Not to you. He shrugs off his black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fingertips lingering as he straightens the collar. His dark eyes flick to yours, a coy smirk almost hiding his guilt as he hopes beyond all hope you don’t see through him.

You almost do.

Not enough to call him out on it, though, so instead, you roll your eyes—but you can’t deny how this—him—is making everything better. He picks up the helmet he only brings when he’s driving you and puts it on for you, visor up so he can brush the hair out of your eyes. Baji offers a comforting smile, then juts his chin to his bike. “Wanna ride?”

The answer, of course, is yes; for him, it will always be yes.

Silently, you climb on and wrap your hands around him, chin tucking into his shoulder as if you were made to be there. He revs and pulls off, seamlessly weaving in and out of traffic. Your eyes close. The wind whips in your hair, and the familiar scent of nicotine, mint, and Baji’s crisp aftershave envelopes you. For a moment, you feel like everything’ll be okay. Your heart might hurt now, but after an evening with him, it’ll all be okay.

That’s the power of Keisuke Baji, though; the sense of embarking on your greatest adventure but feeling like being home, all at once.

It’s nearly sunset when he stops. Pulls up to the river, kicks the bike stand, then grabs your waist to lift you off the seat.

“I can do that,” you say, even as you let him lift you.

“More fun when I do,” he replies with an easy grin. Your feet hit the ground, but Baji keeps one hand around your waist. He takes off the helmet with the other and laughs when your hair flops out. Hurriedly you go to smooth it, but Baji catches your wrist after setting the helmet down. “You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

He cages you between the bike and his hips with just a few inches of space—and suddenly, your heart starts to race. When did he get this close? How hadn’t you noticed the way his leg slid between yours? Why isn’t he taking his hand away? Why can’t you breathe?

Baji’s dark eyes dart between yours, then down to your lips, and for a second, for a split second, you think he’s about to kiss you—

“Not like anything can make it better now,” he smirks, and if it weren’t for how his fingers were locked in yours, you would’ve slapped him.

“Asshole.”

Baji laughs, and you swear the moon shines a little brighter. You’re grateful that he turns to check out the area before he can see just how much of an impact his laugh has on you—though you don’t doubt that he knows. He’s Baji, after all, and you’re not blind (or deaf). He’s handsome, witty, flirty with anything that moves—and that laugh of his could bring even the tides to a standstill.

“Coast’s clear,” he says, looking back at you, a lazy smirk curling his features. It shouldn’t be a surprise, hardly any ever comes this far south of the city—but a few weeks ago, you’d accidentally stumbled upon a couple who were… not expecting company, to put it delicately, and ever since, Baji had been extra cautious to make sure it was just the two of you before getting settled.

He takes a few steps backwards, leading you to your spot; a grassy knoll that overlooks the river as it feeds into the darkened sea. The moon slowly rises over rolling waves while the sun, more a memory, sets over the river’s bend. It’s a secret, sacred place for the two of you, where heartache and daydreams don’t exist; only the moon, the tides, and each other.

Your stomach flips but you can’t tell why; this is exactly what happens every time you come here, from the way he helps you off the bike to how he stops you from picking at your appearance. The only difference is the way his hand is still wrapped in yours.

You wonder if Tadashi’s would have been this warm.

But Tadashi isn’t here—Baji is, and it’s Baji’s warm hands that always make things better. So you let him keep his hand in yours, even though you’re not sure you should, and you let him gently tug you along when you don’t move fast enough. Let him take his time in taking his jacket back, in spreading it on the grass before waiting for you to sit. You even let him settle next to you, instinctively leaning into the familiar comfort of his body and for a minute, you wonder how you ever could’ve wanted your day to end different.

Then Baji meets your gaze, smiles that sweet, genuinely kind half smile that he only shares with you, and you remember: Baji is your friend—and no matter how many heartaches he heals, that’s all he’ll ever be.

You can’t remember when things got so complicated.

When it was just you and Kenny, you’d sneak up to the roof of the brothel and watch the sun dip behind the buildings and talk about how one day, you’d get a house that was that color pink, and it’d be on the far side of Japan where you could watch the sunset from your porch and life would be good. The sunset was the only dream you’d ever need, and it would be good.

Then Mikey started coming. More often than not he’d fall asleep before the sun did, and on the days he didn’t—the roof felt too… small. The dreams, too… little. They evolved, from a porch where you could watch the sunset to a skyline that never sleeps.

Dreams change, and that’s okay… but a part of you aches for the time when the sunset felt like enough—when the family you had, the brothers you’d found and the friends you’d made—was enough. You still had the sunset, but rarely. More often than not, you were by yourself up there, or stuck to Kenny’s side somewhere out there, or brushing against Baji’s shoulder down here.

So these days, you prefer to watch the moon rise. There’s more comfort in a light to guide you through the night, rather than watching your dreams disappear with the day.

And you do, the way you do every time you’re stood up or don’t feel—enough. You sit beside Baji with the full moon crawling towards you, staring at the conjunction of the river and the sea, and focus on how you’re going to get through this.

Baji cut his hair since the last date—the last time you’d been stood up, you correct. Still long, but now only to the edge of his jaw, not mid-back like you were used to. The light is bright behind him, bringing out the warm undertones in his onyx hair. You can make out the scab on his cheek from a bar fight a few weeks ago; the scar on his nose from when Mikey split it the first time they fought; the tender bruise along his jaw that looks too new to have told you the story yet.

Instinctively, you reach for it… then chicken out, instead teasing the edge of his hair. You’re left wondering if an angel’s wings would be as soft.

Baji glances at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t like it?”

“What? I didn’t say that.” Your hand falls back to your lap, eyes quick to follow. The light behind him is too bright—too blinding. Too much like a halo. It’s impossible to hide the truth from an angel, and you know you don’t have the right words to convey just how beautiful you find him. “Just… gonna take some getting used to. I don’t think you’ve ever had it this short.”

He scoffs. “Maybe at birth.”

The idea of baby Baji flashes through your mind; sweet, chubby cheeks, little fists flailing at the world. A tuft of hair, dark as his and long already, but when he opens his eyes, they’re yours—

“Why’d you cut it?” your voice is steadier than you expect. It does nothing to change your thoughts, especially when Baji’s slender fingers start pulling at grass, just the way a baby grasps what's in front of him.

He stares straight ahead, letting one hand splay by your lower back as he watches the green blades dance in the wind. “Figured it was time for a change.”

You hmm in acknowledgement, brain too traitorous to come up with anything other than, ‘I bet you were a cute baby’ or ‘you look handsome either way’ or, worst of all, ‘why would you ever want to change?’

He probably meant nothing by it. Baji’s as flexible as they come; sets his own hours at the shop, varies what time he wakes or goes to bed, never eats the same thing too many times in a row… there’s not much permanency in his life as it is, so it sticks with you that he still wants something different.

If he thinks you’re being weird, he doesn’t say so. He waits for you to speak, like always, and like always, you find yourself loving him a little more for it. Baji’s so—quick; to judge, to speak, to fight… but in these moments, when it’s the two of you and the moon and no one else, he’s not. He’s slow; slow to speak, slow to touch, slow to pull away…

Slow to make you wonder why you keep wasting time with boys who don’t deserve it when he might be enough.

The silence becomes too much; too easy to drown in. Too tempting to fill with all the wrong things.

“What happened to your jaw?” is the best you come up with.

It’s no surprise when he answers, “got into a fight,” but how he says it… how he immediately ducks his head and covers the darkening bruise with a broad palm, as if he’d forgotten all about it and wished you would, too… that makes you pause.

One tenet of your relationship is that you don’t lie to each other. There are often times you wish he would, like when Chifuyu teases him about the pretty girl at the pet shop who came back and asked for the number of the flirty hunk who sold her a dog collar and Baji admits she was pretty cute and he’ll take her to drinks tomorrow night, or when Kazutora reminds Baji that he promised to go on a double date with the twins they met clubbing so no, he can’t take a look at that leaky pipe in your bathroom—but you’d never say that. Not when he could, so easily, call you out for keeping your own.

So when he goes out of his way to not have to tell you the truth, you know better than to push.

“Did it hurt?”

Baji looks to you with a cocky smile. “You should see the other guy.” You snort. Baji knocks his shoulder into yours. “I’m good, really. Just… had some business, s’all.”

It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not. It only flares your curiosity… and honestly? Your annoyance. “I hadn’t realized a pet shop needed such security.”

Baji barks out a laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen how crazy some people get about their pets, ‘specially when they think Dr. Google is a better resource than Chifuyu’s degree… but nah, this was… off the books.” He catches your inquisitive gaze and offers a smile, but it’s more like a grimace in the lowlight. His hand creeps closer, fingers pressing into your back, and for a moment, you’re willing to let it go. He gently grazes the middle of your spine. “It’s done, alright? Finished. Won’t happen again.”

You know he’s lying because he holds you close, the way he only does when he thinks you’re about to leave.

But you don’t leave; you never leave. You just give him a withering glare you know he can’t see, then turn back to the ocean.

You hate this feeling. The one where the world becomes unsteady, and everything you’d been trying to keep buried since you were thirteen sneaks up on you. That horrid, awful, destructive fascination and jealousy and yearning that’s plagued you since Baji first bragged about stealing a kiss from the pretty girl that lived three floors above him and only gets worse every time he mentions someone new.

Going on dates was supposed to squash this. Meeting a nice guy, having a good time, and getting a kiss or two of your own was supposed to end this. This—obsession—you’ve had since the first time Baji said he hopes that one day, you meet the right guy and you accidentally thought, ‘maybe it’s you.’ Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s there. Not Tadashi, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Not Draken, who recently started putting Emma above all else (even you). It’s been Baji, your Baji, whose mere existence makes everything better, that’s been the last one standing.

You can’t ruin that. You can’t risk pushing away the only companion who still puts you first for something you’re positive you can find somewhere else.

At least, that’s what you have to tell yourself, as yet another date fails and Baji is here, again, picking up the pieces and making you feel more whole than when the day started.

The sky is nearly dark when you finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since the barista gave you that pity cup—the one that’s probably still sitting in the bathroom, the last witness to your heartbreak. Just as alone and unwanted as you.

“What’s… wrong with me?”

Baji’s sharp. He alway has been, from the stern angle of his nose to the feral way his teeth carve like a predator’s. He watches everything—the road, the fighters, you—with a scrutiny that’s often clouded behind cheshire grins and snide quips.

But there’s nothing sharp about him tonight; only soft. Soft hands that gently grab your chin and force you to look at him. Soft breathes as he pulls you close. Soft words as he makes sure you hear him whisper, “nothing.”

Baji’s eyes, dark and teeming with something you can’t place, move from one eye to the other; to the fingers on your cheek; to your tongue, wetting your lips. He leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hand slides back, gripping your hair like you're his lifeline and not the other way around, and you’re back to thinking okay, this is it, he’s going to kiss me, he’s finally going to kiss me—

But all he does is repeat, “absolutely—fuckin’ nothing, alright? And—‘n fuck whoever makes you feel otherwise,” before resuming his seat like nothing happened.

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It’s stale and hot and full of fury, your fury, and suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck you, Keisuke.”

“What?” Baji scrambles for your arm as you abruptly stand, too furious to even look at him. You rip away but don’t stop, trying to will the stupidness of—whatever this is—to go away, to release you so you can go back to feeling better and right and whole. “Wait—come on, I didn’t—what did I say? Did I do something? Where the hell are you going?”

“Forget it!” you snap. His every question—the fact he wants to make it right even though he’s the reason it hurts—just makes it worse. “Just—leave it alone, alright? It obviously doesn’t matter—”

This time when he grabs your arm, he doesn’t let you leave. He pulls you in to him, nearly crashing you into his chest as he holds you in place.

“Damnit, y/n, what the hell? What did—why are you being like this?” For the first time tonight, he meets your eyes without falter. He tucks a hand under your chin, all but pries your eyes open himself to search for what you're hiding. You try shrugging out of his iron grip, but he’s too strong. “What did I do?”

“Nothing—” You’re horrified at the way your voice cracks. “Fucking—nothing, Baji, you did nothing—“

“Then why’re you so fucking mad, hunh? Why’re you acting like I’m the bad guy here?” His fingers tighten. It would’ve hurt, if you weren’t so angry. “I’m not the asshole who stood ya up—I’m not the one who’s been dickin’ everyone around, pretending like everything’s fine when I know, Draken knows—even fuckin’—Pah-chin—can tell that something’s wrong—“

“You’re calling me an asshole?” you gasp incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes!” he retorts hotly—then, upon realizing how horribly angry you’re growing, quickly backtracks, “I mean—no! Actually, no, you know what, I did mean yeah, because guess what, princess? You are acting like an ass! You’ve got—all these people who wanna be here for you, I want to be here for you, and all you’re doing is getting mad at me for it—”

“What do you want me to say, Baji?” It’s useless, trying to get free, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “That I’m—heartbroken—at being stood up—again? That I’m done with dating, that I’m giving up, that everyone fucking sucks but I must suck worse—”

“They don’t deserve you—”

“Like hell!” Your tone is scalding. It must burn him just as bad, because a single lapse in his grip lets you rip your arm away. “That’s the whole goddamn point of dating, jackass, to figure out who’s worth what—and all this has shown is that I’m not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your hands against his chest, tears stinging your lash line. If you weren’t so angry, you might not have missed how his face falters when you push him away. “And you just—sitting there, and—and holding me like that, and—and telling me that I’m not the problem when I’m the only common denominator—you’re such a fucking liar—”

“You think it’s any easier for me?” he’s quick to yell, frustration making him bare his teeth like fangs. Anyone else would’ve cowered—but you stand your ground. Place two hands on his chest and shove, hard, forcing him back as he continues, “you think it’s any easier to see you gettin’ your hopes up, to freak out over what to text, what to wear, what to do—all for those fuckin’ dickweeds? Hunh? Guys who can’t even—spell your name right, or remember what your favorite flower is, or fucking—show up? You think it’s any fucking easier seeing you so goddamn upset over someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone spend time with you–be with you? Because it’s not, sweetheart!”

The sweet pet name that usually makes your heart skip a beat only aggravates you further. Your hands go from shoving to slamming, open palms against the hard muscle of his chest—but he doesn’t even flinch. Just catches your wrists before you can do it again and stares, like you’ve started speaking in tongues. “Oh, poor Baji, must be hard, hunh, thinking no one’s good enough, thinking everyone’s so lucky as to have people throwing themselves at them left and right—but newsflash, Keisuke, not all of us are like you! Not all of us have the ability to pick whoever we want, some of us actually have to work at it—“

“Stop working on the wrong guys then!”

“You’ve never even met them, how would you know—“

“Because they let me stand in the way!”

The world stills.

You can’t place why; why this feels like a sucker punch, why your heart is suddenly skipping beats–why you can’t tell if this hurts. Not until Baji’s grip tightens, then his eyes widen, and you have a sneaking suspicion you know where this is going—but still, you ask, “what?”

He doesn’t respond. He can’t.

He lets go of you, though every fiber in his being begs him to stay. He takes a step back, though his heart pleads for him to wrap you in his arms and hold you close and tell you the truth, about what he did, why he did it, why he can’t bring himself to regret it…

He has to turn his back to you, to stare at the waves crashing along the sand as he tries to process just how badly he’s fucked this up and if there’s any possibility for redemption. It’s too late to lie. Too late to try and salvage this.

He’s made his bed; it’s time to lie in it.

Baji sighs–or something close. Something choked, not quite a laugh but also not quite a sob. Something is stuck in him, and even with the ice in your veins, you piece it together. Somehow, this—the failed dates, the heartache, the loneliness—it's all his fault.

Still, you have to ask. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You try making the venom in your voice match that in your blood, but you can’t. Not when he looks so—defeated. He runs his hands through his hair, doing a miserable job of either pretending he can’t hear you or attempting to buy enough time to come up with a plausible lie—though you don’t need him to. Not when his actions say enough.

It’s your turn to reach for him. Your turn to grab his arm, to keep him in place. You want to hold on to your anger, but the way his hands are shaking makes it impossible.

You draw him close, voice gentle as you say his name. You reach for his cheek, keeping his hands still with one of yours, and you tilt his head; he lets you tilt his head so that he has no choice but to look at you.

When your gazes meet, you wait.

“I had to,” he eventually says. His voice is steady, but his hands aren’t. His fingers wrap around your wrists tightly, as if he’s afraid you might try leaving—but your grip on him is equally tight. “They weren’t good for you. They were jerks, and they were only going to break your heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I had to—I had to.”

“Had to… what?” He doesn’t answer, not until you prompt, “had to what, Baji?”

“Don’t—” he breathes. “Don’t… call me that.” His eyes close, and he leans into the palm on his cheek. For a moment, you pretend that he’s memorizing the feel of you, as if he’s scared to lose you—but that can’t be it. Keisuke Baji isn’t afraid of anything.

You’re not sure what’s more painful: the knots in your stomach or the hope in your heart. “Tell me what you did,” you muster up. “Keisuke, tell me what you did.”

When his eyes finally open, all of his anger is gone. In its place is something you’ve rarely seen, and even rarer directed at you: desperation.

“I stopped them.”

For a moment, all you hear is your own heart… then the waves of truth come crashing down.

“I—I found them, and I swear on my life, on your life—I only meant to talk to them, to figure out if—if they had good intentions, if they were gonna treat you right—but they all sucked, y/n, they were awful—going on and on about how they were—how they wanted to—to fuck you, just to say they could—or they weren’t—serious about how they felt and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t let them hurt you like that, so I… I hurt them first. Not—not much, just enough so they’d—get the idea. Leave you alone. Stay away from my girl—”

He cuts himself off, and for a moment, you’re frozen. You don’t know what to do, what to think—is this real? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Does he really mean it?

Baji’s voice cracks when he says your name.

“Y/n, listen—listen to me,” he pleads. His forehead presses against yours. Your cheeks grow wet, though you can’t tell if that’s because of you or him. “You are—the most amazing person in this whole freaking world. You get that? You’re—smart, and pretty, and so fucking funny and—and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. And it fucking—kills me—that you’ve got it in your head that what these—stupid pricks think is the only thing that matters, because it’s not. It’s never mattered. The only thing—the only thing that has ever mattered… is you. Okay? You.”

Your throat closes. Your hands reach for his, catching only wrists as he cradles your face, trying to ground yourself in this moment. In all the things he says and all the things he doesn’t; in the silent, desperate dream that refused—refuses—to die, taking over you once more.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” His lips are so close, they brush your nose. “I’d say I regret it, but I don’t, because— you deserve better. You deserve the world, if you want, or—or the moon and all the stars, and—and unless they’d get it for you, they don’t deserve you. Okay? None of them deserved you.”

You’re just a hair away from kissing him, from caving to the impulses you thought were dead and gone and hopeless all these years, and the worst possible sentence sinks out: “you’re an idiot, Kei.”

Then you lean forward and kiss him.

In an instant—you feel whole. You feel right, in a way you haven’t since you decided you never had a chance with him; in a way you’ve been searching for in the words of all the others who’d let you down, who’d broken your heart and always, always, always led you back to moonrise with Baji, back home—

Baji jolts. He pulls away and stares at you with a wild mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers ghost his lips, only to draw back as he stares at them, then at you, then back at them, like he can’t quite comprehend this hand is attached to his body—like you were. Like you want to be, like you thought he wanted to be, like you thought he was asking you to be—

Your heart plummets as he just—stands, no witty quip or teasing remark at the ready. No lines to read between; no phrasing to draw false confessions from; nothing other than the stillness of the night, and the pounding of your heart.

“Wait—” you shrink as you realize just how hoarse a single stolen kiss has left you. “I thought—please, Kei—”

A flicker of… something dances in his eyes, and then—he watches you. Studies you, with the same scrutiny he holds before a fight or when picking apart a bike to see what parts are broke and what can be saved.

“Say it again.”

It’s your turn to blink; your turn to have wide eyes and parted lips, to study him like you’re not sure how to fix it. “I don’t—“

“My name,” he says, and your heart starts to leap. “Say my name, sweetheart.”

“I say your name all the time, Keisuke.” You’re barely above a whisper. Barely above the fear that this time, he’ll break your heart and there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces because—you ruined this.

“Not like that,” he breathes. You forget how to. “Say it like it means something. Like—you don’t hate me. Like—”

“Kei,” you interrupt, hands coming to cradle his cheeks as you read between the lines, “I forgive y—”

He doesn’t even let the final word form before his lips are on yours. Hard, aggressively melding like he’s worried you might change your mind and wants to milk every second out of this as he can—but you reciprocate just as desperately. Keisuke’s hands wrap around you, one gripping the base of your neck and the other resting on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth opens, teasing your lips apart as you trade air, fingers digging into your soft skin like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch.

You pull away first, and that’s only because your lungs are aching—not that you mind. The pain helps make this feel real.

For once, Keisuke’s grin doesn’t seem mocking. He moves a hand to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, sweetheart.”

“Not as long as I have,” you admit with a breathy laugh. Your hands lock around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, and you realize you’re smiling.

You kissed. Keisuke kissed you, you kissed him—everything makes sense. Everything is right, and with the moon and tides as your witness, everything is good again.

“Can I…” Keisuke starts, eyes flicking to your lips in an unspoken question. You finish his sentence with a kiss.

“You can always kiss me, Kei,” you say. “You don’t even have to ask.”

There’s the grin you recognize; the scheming, teasing grin that always makes your stomach flip in a way you thought meant he’s up to no good, but now realize as a sign you’d fallen for him long ago.

“Oh, yeah?” he questions, brushing his lips against yours. “Only here? Or can I kiss… here?” He moves to the corner of your lips, then to the hollow of your cheek as he continues, “and… here? And maybe…”

He trails off, and he trails down, letting his lips drag against your cheek while his hand keeps you firmly in place, lips going done to your chin, down the column of your throat and back up. Your breathy yes would be pathetic—if it ever made it out. All that escapes is a breathy groan of displeasure when he stops, teasing lips hovering just above your own. “What’s that, babe? Want me t’stop?”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Your hands tangle in his hair, lips melding as your make-out turns heated. He slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking you to open—and you do. His hands curl around you, bringing you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Something digs into your leg. Something hard and unmistakable, and it leaves you grinning deeper than Kei.

You break away, laughing at his whine of protest and briefly glance down. Keisuke follows your eyes and is quick to splutter a nervous chuckle, hands dropping as he tries to step away with a short apology—though the way you catch his belt loops stops him. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t—I just—it’s your fault, y’know—“

“Shut up,” you giggle and drag him back. Now, you kiss him; once, twice, then a third before trailing your lips along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, along his temple, to his ear. “How about you take me home, Kei?”

Keisuke’s whiplash nearly hurts you. His eyes, big and brown and wide, stare like you’ve grown an extra head. His hands shakily splay against your back, as if he wants to keep you close but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. His voice wavers slightly when he asks, “but I thought… aren’t… I mean, isn’t this… what you wanted?”

Slowly, you nod. Even slower, you pointedly look at the space between you, bridged only by the tent of his black pants. You smile at the sweet way a blush covers his cheeks, and risk slowly trailing your hand along his belt until your fingertips are hovering over that stupid, shiny, obnoxiously big belt buckle you always tease him for.

“I want you, Keisuke, and I want you to take me home.”

He doesn’t need more encouragement.

Keisuke’s kisses grow fiercer. He devours you, never once breaking contact as his hands slide to find firm purchase on the back of your thighs. With ease, he lifts you atop his bike, setting you in front of him and stepping between your spread legs. The hem of your dress slides up with his calloused palms, collecting in a bunch then pooling down to protect your modesty as he finds two handfuls of ass. He gives a squeeze, eliciting a delighted gasp from you, then pulls back with a toothy smile.

“Then have me, sweetheart. Always been yours, anyways.”

Your stomach twists, the way it always does when he looks at you like that, and you like it. It makes sense, it feels right—and you don’t have to pretend to justify why it makes your panties wet.

“Gotta—gotta get home—“ you try saying, but Keisuke’s hands have a mind of their own. They’re the only reason you’re still upright as he starts kissing along your neck, carefully grazing his sharp teeth but never once digging in. Your arms lop around him, digging into his scalp and shoulders as he finds this one spot that makes you moan, and you almost curse him for what that smile has done to you.

“Fuckin’—insane—if you think I'ma make it,” he mumbles into your skin, and you think you finally understand how some people can climax from someone’s voice alone.

You laugh and intend to push him away and demand that he do, that you have to, that you need to, because this—isn’t like you, you’re not one to get hot and heavy like this, certainly not in public—

But you can’t think straight. Not when Keisuke’s hands are kneading your ass, pinching and releasing like he can’t decide if he wants to hold on forever or explore somewhere new. Not when his teeth nibble your neck, and you shudder at the unbelievably primal sensation running through you.

Not when the unmistakable hardness of Keisuke’s boner finds home between your thighs, and he starts bucking his hips. It’s subtle, and he doesn’t tease you for the pathetic way you start whimpering. He focuses on continuing to explore the expanse of your otherwise untouched skin, while all you can do is revel in the way your high starts building.

You’ve been kissed before, on the lips and neck and once a little lower, but no one’s ever done this to you; pressed against your collarbone. Moved your neckline aside to suck on the fat of your breast. Left a mark that’ll last longer than a minute. For a moment, you wonder if you should tell him he’s the first, but when the zipper of his pants starts catching your clit, the only thing you’re able to do is moan his name.

Loudly.

Breathy and passionate and different than before, and he pauses. Lifts his head from your collarbone, a thin tendril of salvia keeping his lips still attached to the sensitive skin you know will bruise. He lets one hand trail up your side and cup your face, staring like this might be the last time he ever sees you, all while his hips continue to rut against you.

“Say it again,” he breathes, thumb catching your bottom lip. “Just—just like that.”

“Kei,” you repeat, giggling at the way he brightens and starts kissing you, “we need to go home—now.” For good measure, you boldly let your fingers slide to the edge of his belt buckle, in case he needs some more convincing. His free hand darts to yours, but he doesn’t stop you. He laces his fingers in yours and guides you, letting you palm at his thick hard-on. He lets out a low groan and drops his head from your lips to rest at your chest, just above the collar of your dress. You card one hand through his hair, the other applying light pressure to the (you assume) very painful ache between his legs—and not at all because you know, if he kept bucking into your core the way he just was, the way he keeps doing against your palm—you wouldn’t be able to make it home, either. “Take—take me home, Kei—”

“Not—” he huffs. His grip on your ass tightens, but you can barely feel it. Not when Keisuke whines, low and needy, teeth coming out to nip at your breast, and all you can focus on is the ache between your own legs, getting even worse as his hips start moving faster, forcing the back of your hand against your cunt as you continue to palm him. His hips don’t stop; they push against you so fiercely, so desperately, that you cave, taking away your hand so there’s nothing between you but your clothes.

You’re on the precipice in minutes; hands digging into his shoulders as you choke on a sob, pleading with him to go faster, to not stop, to keep making you feel good—and it’s made all the worse when he does, pressing his throbbing erection even harder against your soaked panties, all the while pleading into your skin, “can’t—can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—y/n—“

You gasp when his teeth break skin.

Keisuke’s hips still. Warm air saturates your chest as he groans into it, and for a moment you’re frozen. Your whole body aches, and you want to scream at the cruel way your orgasm was stolen—but you’re too in shock that he got you there that fast, that easily. Something warm trickles down your cheeks, between your breasts—blood? saliva? tears?—he doesn’t move. You don’t move. You’re not even sure he’s breathing, until his shoulders heave and your skin is warmed once more. A slight burn starts to spread across your chest, and when you open your mouth to ask him why the hell he stopped—all that comes out is his name.

You say it softly, then a little louder, but it’s not until you grab his face and force him to look up that he speaks—but his eyes are fixed firmly on the reddening bite mark forming atop your breast.

“M’sorry…”

A mean part of you wants to tell him he owes you a lot more than sorry, but the way his lower lip disappears as he nervously chews on it has you choosing otherwise. “It’s okay,” you comfort instead, “it didn’t hurt that bad.”

Keisuke grimaces. “No, I—”

He sighs, head dropping back to your chest. Both arms wrap around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to the place he’d just bitten; the only way he probably figures he can keep close without meeting your gaze. He mumbles something, but you only know because you feel his lips moving.

“Can’t hear you…” you try prompting, but it only makes him snuggle deeper. He sighs again, loud and warm and in a way you��re familiar with—the way that really means, I can’t believe I have to do this… “C’mon, Kei, don’t you want to take me home?”

“Ididntmakeit.”

You have never, ever, in your life ever seen Keisuke embarrassed. Not when he told you about needing Chifuyu to tutor him post-juvie; not when he failed his college entry exams; not even when you accidentally walked in on him showering (in hindsight, he was probably a little too comfortable with how long it might’ve taken you to leave).

This was the man who went skinny dipping for fun. He’ll order fruity drinks for his friends who are too embarrassed to do it themselves. His approach to a lost fight is to get a rematch, not pretend it didn’t exist, and even in mundane moments that have you at a loss for words, like mistaking someone’s name or forgetting a face, Kei’s always quick for a retort or defense or a smile that makes everything better.

Keisuke Baji doesn’t get embarrassed—but that’s the only word that fits. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen, his breathing faster than his pulse. His eyes refuse to meet yours, and his fingers knead into clumsy, nervous patterns along the side of your thighs.

Then he takes a deep breath, and with one shaking hand, he slowly brings your palm to the crotch of his pants… that are now sticky.

Your eyes widen, and you’re almost too late to choke down a gasp. Kei’s eyes close, and he ducks his head in shame. “I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t—you're just—I’m so sorry—”

“Why?” It sounds curt, and you don’t intend it to. Better than laughing, you reason—although you will absolutely get him for this later… when it stops feeling like the most humiliating thing in the world.

Keisuke swallows. “I haven’t ever… you know.”

“What, cum early?” It’s cruel to tease, you know that, but you can’t stop the slight satisfaction that you—you—are able to bring a man like Keisuke Baji to his knees.

“No! I mean—no, I…” Kei looks out to the ocean, fingers still anxiously kneading into your thighs. The temperature drops, though you’re not sure if it actually does or you’re just feeling like it as you try to understand what’s happened, what’s happening—what you’re to do next. His jaw clenches and he tries to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. You wrap your legs around the backs of his thighs, keeping him in place.

“Kei…” you say softly. You don’t force him to look at you. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his abs, curling around his neck so you can rest your forehead against his temple and kiss his cheek. “I don’t care. Just means you gotta make it up to me—”

“I’ve never had sex before.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t look at you, because you’re not able to control the utter shock coloring your face. How is that possible? You’ve heard the whispers when you go out; you’ve seen the looks. At parties or bars or clubs, he’d find a pretty thing and disappear, and you assumed you knew what happened behind those closed doors—because why, why, why would you want to ask about that?

The others didn’t dispel it, either; in fact, they’d constantly rip on him for his… gift, and Keisuke never fought back. He’d just smirk and wink and say, “it’s never disappointed,” and by the time you’d turned red, thinking about when you caught him in the shower and knew what they were saying was true, they’d moved on to taunting someone else.

So how the hell is it possible that Keisuke’s a virgin—and, more importantly, how didn’t you know?

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover. If he were to ask, you’d say you were just waiting for him—because when you do speak, it’s only when Keisuke turns to you with narrowed eyes, an apprehensive blush clear on his face.

“Wanna know a secret?” you ask, forcing a teasing lilt to your voice—though your stomach twists. This isn’t exactly the way you wanted to tell him, and for a flash, you think of how disappointed he might be to learn the truth.

But when he meets your gaze, eyes wide and focused entirely on you, somewhere between hopeful and nervous, you know it’s for the best. Your smile is sweet, but not as sweet as your lips when you kiss the crinkle between his eyes. He immediately relaxes, hands stilling as he leans into you. “Neither have I.”

He straightens and pulls far enough away so he can examine you. For a minute, your confession hangs between the two of you, then Kei starts floundering, “but I thought… you said… but he… what about your ex?”

You shrug, your own cheeks starting to flush. “It never felt right.”

Keisuke blinks. His mouth parts, eyes darting between yours like he’s waiting for the gotcha!, but all he receives is the embarrassed way you can’t meet his gaze, feeling as if you’ve somehow let him down. You squirm, his warm hands still atop your thighs sending butterflies to your stomach, and shrug again. “I dunno, I just—didn’t think it was fair. Doing that with someone, when all I could think about…” you swallow, lips twisting as you debate whether or not to tell him the truth.

He catches your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Think about what, sweetheart?”

The way he asks tells you he already knows; but like earlier, when you knew and had to hear it anyway, he needs you to say it, too.

So you take a steadying breath. You gently trail a finger down the side of his jaw, and you make yourself smile as you say, “you, Kei. It didn’t seem right if it wasn’t you.”

This time when he kisses you, it’s slow. He takes his time in tasting you, in savoring the moment. He lets you guide where his lips go, how his hands wander, and he waits for you to pull back before he suggests, “how about I take you home now?”

Your stomach flutters. Fingers knot at the base of his skull, and slowly, a smile spreads on your face.

“I’d like that.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You can feel the joy in it, one that doesn’t fade for either of you as he unhooks your legs so you can properly straddle the bike, then tucks the helmet on you and pops on himself.

“Hold on,” he calls as he revs the engine, “might be goin’ a bit faster than usual.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, and even though you know he probably can’t hear you, you add, “I’m never letting go.”

You make it to Keisuke’s apartment in seven minutes flat—which, normally, would leave you terrified, given his place is twenty minutes from your spot, but you doubt that’s what’s got your heart racing. He barely gives you enough time to take the helmet off before his hands are back on you, easily scooping you up and carrying you up the stairs. You bump into a few walls, and the way you’ve got a loose grasp on his helmet sends it craning into his back just as often, but neither of you care. Between fits of giggles and cautious glances to make sure he’s not about to walk you through a glass door (or down a stairwell), you kiss like it’ll be the last time you ever get the chance to.

“Anyone home?” you mumble into his lips. He slams you against the front door of his shared three-bedroom apartment, using his hips to keep you up while he tries to find the lock by memory.

“Nope,” he replies, lips busy with your skin, fingers fumbling uselessly behind you. “Stupid—fucking lock—told Tora to leave it—never fuckin’ listens—”

“Relax,” you laugh, although that’s rich coming from you. Your legs tighten around him as you break free from his kiss, instead sucking along the column of his throat. Freeing his face is supposed to give him enough room to actually look for the lock, so the two of you can stop dry-humping in the hall and finally get the privacy you need—but like always, Keisuke does the unexpected.

He throws his head back and moans, giving you more access to leave a matching hickey—and you’re not strong enough to resist the temptation. A whine starts in his throat, from where you’re sucking on his pale skin. The keys clatter to the ground.

“Keisuke,” you scold—but before you can tease him for being in a rush, his lips are back on yours.

“Never gonna make it,” is his only defense.

“Gonna—gonna have to,” you reply, but every time you try pulling away or reach for the keys yourself, he grabs you. Wraps your wrists in his rough hands, pins them to the door beside your head, and leans so far forward that, even with your limp legs, he’s able to keep you up himself. “Kei—“

“So help me sweetheart,” he warns, hips rolling against yours with a sense of urgency only outmatched by his kiss, “if you keep saying my name like that, I swear to the gods I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

“So help me, sweetheart,” you shoot back, breathy and hot as you try to avoid the way his lips chase yours, “if you don’t get me inside right now, I might let you.”

He freezes. Pulls away from the delightful bruise he’d just been leaving below your ear and stares at you with a mixture of awe and utter delight. “Really?”

You swat the back of his head. “No, dumbass, open the fucking door.”

Keisuke’s lips, pink and bruising slightly, twist in a pretend pout as he squats. He keeps one thick palm under your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around him as he snags his keys. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“Says the guy who does—that,” you try scoffing, but you’re cut off with a moan when Kei stands and bounces you against his hips. His boner is back and harder than before, pressing into your core, the messy, wet mix of your drenched panties and his earlier cum making a lewd sound in the otherwise silent hallway.

“Does… what, babe?” he teases. “C’mon, finish that sentence.”

You don’t know how he finds the focus to actually find the lock this time, but you thank every deity in the world that he does—because it takes just a second, a single, solitary second for him to jimmy it in, slam the door open, and you’re finally alone.

The door frame rattles. Something falls, but you can’t tell if it’s the mirror you insisted he hang above the entry table you insisted he get or if it’s the rickety old coat rack Chifuyu said would ‘class up the joint’; all you know is that as soon as the key is in, Baji’s hands are back to cradling your thighs for support as he crosses the threshold.

You reach for the door, but he catches it with his ankle and slams it shut, quickly spinning to pin you against it.

“Really—” you pant, “really got the place—to ourselves?”

“Mhm,” Keisuke confirms. He leans into you, palms rubbing along your thighs until they get to your knees, silently asking you to wrap tighter around him. You do, and the moment he feels your ankles cross at the small of his back, his hands move to your waist. “Told ‘em—needed space.”

“Oh?” you question, your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and tug, tug, tugging—“And when’d you do that?”

He reaches behind his head and yanks his tee off, tossing it carelessly into the darkness of the apartment. You hadn’t even paused to turn on the lights.

“After I saw Tadashi.” You can tell he’s grinning, especially as you drag your nails along the chiseled plane of his abs. His hands slide up your torso, thumb rubbing your stomach through the thin cotton of your dress, grazing the underwire of your bra. “Told Tora this one wasn’t gonna work, either, ’n he said I should just tell ya the truth, 'cause he couldn’t watch me mope around all night again—”

“Mope?” you tease. Kei’s fingers dig in. “Kazutora accused you of moping?”

“Well—shut up!” he whines. “You try watching the person you’re in love with go out with guys who don’t deserve them and tell me you wouldn’t start moping either—y/n? Why… are you looking at me like that?”

Your eyes are wide. Your hands go limp, the helmet falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Your lips part to say… something, but you’re not sure what.

Keisuke’s told you he’s loves you a thousand times; the brief ‘kay love ya! before he hangs up; the gentle love you, see ya tomorrow whenever he’d bring you home; the drawn out gods I love you after you’ve surprised him with his favorite meal—but none like this.

None so… blatant. So unmistakable.

Kei stares at you curiously, as if he isn’t even aware of what he’s just said. He repeats your name, hands leaving your waist to catch your chin.

“You’re… in love with me?”

Keisuke blinks.

For a moment, you think you must’ve misheard, he must’ve misspoke, you must have misunderstood—but a brilliant smile breaks his face, and he nuzzles his nose against yours. “‘Course I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I’ve been in love with you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you—”

You kiss him.

The gentlest one yet. The way you always dreamed your first one would be; soft, sweet, lips pressing together while your hands held him close. Heartbeats synching. The world falling away as it’s just the two of you, in this moment, endless and forever.

There’s only one thing to say when you pause: “I love you too, Keisuke.”

Your teeth knock together as Keisuke can’t contain his smile, either. Hands move, one around the small of your back and the other under a single thigh. Your lips never part as he carries you to his room.

He sets you at the foot of his bed and stands above you. His chest heaves, bare and flushed with need. Your hands slip from his neck to his bed to keep yourself propped up, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Keisuke’s hands travel to your knees, and he just—stares.

He loves you. How could he not, with the way that pretty dress puddles on his mattress, exposing nearly all of your leg but hiding what he’s been waiting for his whole adult life? How could he not, with the way his spit makes your collar glistens in the moonlight, filtering in from behind those sheer curtains you insisted he get? How could he not love the way you say his name, reaching towards him, fingers catching on his belt buckle as you ask him if he’s ready?

“Not yet,” he whispers. The hoarseness of his voice, the way it’s dropped several octaves from merely seeing you on his bed, sends a jolt of electricity through you. You’re about to ask why, but the reverence in how he’s looking at you makes you not want to break this spell.

He trails his fingers along your calves. Gently, he unhooks your legs from his waist. His fingers shake as he struggles with the straps of your heels, but when you go to help, he catches your wrist.

“No,” he repeats, “not yet.”

You keep quiet and merely watch as your best friend, the man of your dreams, takes his time in undressing you. One wedge, then the other, falling off your feet with a dull clank! on the carpet. Keisuke kisses your ankles, then starts kissing up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs—

The anticipation has you dripping. Your thighs instinctively clench when he gets to your hem, hands curling into fists by your sides. Your panties are uncomfortably glued to your cunt, sticky in a way you’ve never been before, and he’s not even lifted your dress to see yet.

Keisuke rests his chin atop your thigh. “Please,” he pleads—pleads—“Let me—baby, let me. I wanna taste you.”

Today is not the day you learn to refuse him.

Your muscles shake from anticipation as you slowly spread your legs, but that’s not enough for him. “Baby, no, I—I wanna hear you say it.” His voice is soft, shaky. A little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if this’ll ruin the moment but he knows he has to be sure—he has to hear you say it… if only to revel in the desperate way you say his name.

“Keisuke, please… whatever you want, have it. Just—touch me, Kei, please, I need you—“

“Need you too, sweetheart,” he praises, running his lips along your thigh. “Gonna—gonna have you now, okay?”

His fingers still shake when he lifts your dress, exposing the black lace of your panties to him. At first glance, he can’t tell that they’re absolutely soaked—but that doesn’t stop the way you start to squirm in embarrassment as he just… stares. His thumbs dig into the fat of your hips, broad palms keeping your thighs spread and pinned to the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s not breathing.

“Kei?”

He doesn’t look up.

His grip gets tighter. His eyes narrow. Before you get the chance to ask him what’s wrong, he growls, “you wore these for him?”

You blink. That is not what you were expecting, but before you can defend with they’re my lucky pair, or I wanted to feel sexy, or it doesn’t matter, I’m here with you—Keisuke’s ripped them off.

You yelp when the fabric bites your skin, failing to wriggling away as Keisuke strips them off your ankle. “What the fuck—“

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he mutters. “Shit—I’ll get you a hundred pairs, but you get rid of every single set someone else has seen. Got it?”

Your lips purse. He’s being unreasonable, you think, and totally ridiculous… but no matter how much your brain tries to reason he’s out of line, your fluttering pussy doesn’t get the message. Your slick is evident now, exposed and iridescent in the moonlight, dripping down your hole and slowly saturating the sheets.

Usually, Keisuke wouldn’t let it go. Usually, he’d keep picking at it until you cave, or at least recognize you heard him—but usually, he’s not staring at your cunt.

Right now, he can’t focus on anything but how desperate he is to be inside you.

“Yeah, think ya got it… fuck, babe… seems like you like it when I say shit like that, hunh?”

You whimper slightly, having to bite your lip to keep it together. Slowly, he drags the tip of his finger from the sheet beneath you up along your wet folds. He barely touches you, but when he pulls his finger away, it’s covered in a layer of you.

He brings it to his face with a cocky grin, watching how the pad shines in the moonlight. “You always this wet, or am I special?”

“Shut up,” you shoot back, preparing to bring up how special he found you earlier—only to immediately throw your head back and moan as Keisuke buries his face between your legs.

There is no preamble. There are no more teasing quips or pauses; Keisuke dives in like a man starved, and the only thing that can sate his appetite is you.

He starts with broad strokes, gathering as much of your slick as he can. He’s messy, messier than you, and soon there’s more of his spit than your wetness between your legs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned and spread on his shoulders as he continues to feast, thumbs spreading your lips open so he can truly devour you.

When Keisuke starts suckling on your clit, your fingers knot in his hair. You moan, loud and whiney and plead for him to keep going as your orgasm starts to boil—faster than before, more powerful too, with greater ease than you’ve ever managed to pull from yourself.

Keisuke brings a hand to your clit, quickly swiping the puffy bud with the pad of his thumb as he focuses his tongue on your fluttering hole. In and out, up and down, the warm muscle drives you insane. Your grip on his hair must hurt, but he says nothing; he focuses on making you feel as good as humanly possible, never once letting up, not even when you start to choke, “Kei—I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands. “C’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my face, wanna feel how you clench, wanna make ya cry—”

It sends you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your back arches. Your thighs try closing around him but still, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pace, tongue-fucking you, lapping up all the juice that spills out as his thumb continues caressing your clit until you do start crying and you do have to plead, “no—no more, Kei, can’t—“

“Can,” he corrects—but he stops. His hand stills, moving so that the warmth of his palm covers that sensitive bundle of nerves, and only then does he stop lapping at your hole. He presses a gentle kiss to your sex, then to your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice tonight, sweetheart. Only ‘cause I love you, though.”

You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. The paint is peeling in the corner. The glow-in-the-dark stars you helped him put up when he first moved in are dim. The walls are covered in motorcycle posters. A calendar set to the wrong month hangs above a salvaged desk, covered with various veterinary textbooks, barely legible notebooks, a handful of empty beer cans, and a handful of DVD cases, one of which you know is Dyslexia; How to Read When Even Your Brain Doesn’t Want You To. A neon sign advertising Margaritaville is unlit beside his closet. A pile of clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper rests beneath it.

The room is so—Keisuke , you feel at peace, even as your limbs turn to jelly.

Your heart is racing faster than if you’d just run a marathon. “Thought—thought you said you hadn’t—“ you try panting, but it’s too much effort, too soon. You end up collapsing back on the bed, head swimming with euphoria.

“Said I hadn’t had sex,” Keisuke corrects as he stands, your limp thighs falling to the either side of his waist, “not that I’ve never eaten pussy.” He scoffs, as if that should’ve been obvious. “I’m not an idiot, babe. I respect women enough to know where the clit is.”

A little laugh escapes you. The fan motor is the only other sound. It’s cool, your nipples perk beneath your bra, but you’re still hot. Still hyper aware that Keisuke is just a few inches away, watching your bare cunt flutter and beg him for more.

Keisuke does love you. You know he does, because he gives you time to catch your breathe before he starts up again, only pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs and quiet offerings of, “so fuckin’ pretty” and “can’t believe you’re here” and, your favorite, the only one you respond to: “so in love with you.”

“I love you too, Kei.”

He runs his hands along your sides, slowly taking more and more of your dress up with it until the entire thing is resting by your neck. He makes quick work of your bra, not even needing you to sit up as he unhooks it and lifts the cups away.

He says nothing; just stares at your naked body with the same adoration and awe he held when taking off your shoes.

“You’re—so beautiful,” he whispers. “Y’know that? So—so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He bends down and takes a pert nipple in his mouth. You whine, hate yourself for doing so, then whine again as his free hand starts tweaking your other nipple. He runs his tongue over every inch of your chest, making sure you’re covered with his spit and hands, traversing as much of you as he can.

When he gets to your face, he smiles. “You’re mine, yeah? All mine?”

Your fingers run over his jaw, over the bruise that’s barely discernible in the moonlight. No one’s touched you like him; no one’s even kissed you like him, either, and you’re not sure if it’s the “Keisuke” of it all making you feel like this, or if this is how it’s supposed to have felt all along.

The answer comes easily.

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile of your own, “yeah, m’all yours, Keisuke. Pretty sure I always have been.”

“Always, hunh?” He holds you gently now; a stark contrast to the hungry way he’d just devoured you. “That mean you’ve always loved me, too?”

Your breathy yes is lost in a gasp when his hand slides between your legs. Gently, he prods a single thick finger into your virgin hole, shallowly dipping in and out. “Never had someone else in here, hunh? M’gonna be your first?”

“Y-yes,” you repeat, voice cracking. Your eyes flutter close as he keeps fingering you. You’d had fingers in there before, but none like this. Your own couldn’t compare, two of yours barely able to stretch the way one of his does… and he’s not even going all the way. Not even knuckle deep as he explores only the shallows, letting you adjust.

Your face scrunches when he adds a second.

“This okay?” he asks. You look at him, hand wrapping around his neck as you bring his forehead down to meet yours.

You nod, then remember what he said earlier, how you could feel his cock jumping when you were sweet and needy for him. “Yeah, Keisuke. Yes—yes, I want this. I want you.”

He cups your face and trails soft kisses from corner to corner, breaking apart only to lift your dress and bra over your head. They’re carelessly thrown to the floor, you have half a mind to scold him that it’ll wrinkle—but when he goes back to your cunt, two fingers halfway in, all you’re able to say is the harsh inhale of his name.

They’re shallow, never pushing in deep enough to hurt, slowly stretching your rim to its max. He goes a little deeper, then starts scissoring them, and it becomes nearly impossible to believe he hasn’t done this before.

“No—no way you’re a virgin,” you hiss when Keisuke’s lips travel to your breast. He alternates between sucking hickeys and kneading them while staring at the way your cunt sucks him in, never stopping his ministrations.

Keisuke lets out a short scoff and shifts. “You literally made me cum my pants like a teenager.”

“Then how—“

“I told ya, babe, I respect women,” is his only reply. The only one he’s willing to give, at least, because he starts paying more attention to your tits than what questions are spilling his way.

You feel like you’ve got to be ready when he adds a third, and you say as much—only for Keisuke to meet your gaze with a cocky grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re gonna thank me for this.”

It can’t be much longer until he deems you ready, but it feels like forever, even if he keeps you distracted from the slight burn between your legs by playing with your breasts, sucking on your throat, praising you.

“Taking m’fingers so well, pretty thing. You’re such a good girl f’me, can’t believe you made me wait this long…”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you scold. He curls his fingers mid-way through your sentence, rubbing against a sensitive spot you’ve never been able to find on your own. You keen his name, hand snapping down to catch his forearm. He pauses.

“Too much?”

Slowly, you shake your head, eyes watering. “Please, Kei, I—I want you to fuck me.”

Keisuke presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Never could say no to you, sweetheart.”

If you could think clearly, you’d start listing all the times he has denied you, starting with just a few seconds ago—but him withdrawing his fingers leaves you feeling too empty to do much but pout.

When he pulls away, you chase after him, only for him to shake his head with a fond grin. “How am I supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me take my pants off?”

With hot cheeks, your lips twist. “You were the one who wanted to fuck on your bike, and then in the hall—what, were you planning on stripping naked then, too?”

You’re rewarded with a very rare, very endearing blush. He sits back on his knees and rubs his neck, eyes dropping from yours—then his lip curls in a smirk. “With how wet you got, seems like you wanted me to. What—you like the idea of that? Getting fucked in public? Don’t worry, sweetheart, maybe we’ll try that one day…” He laughs at the way you squirm, but he’s not wrong; your cunt clenches at the thought.

“You’re such a dick.” Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly as you try to undo it. Keisuke’s hands take over, getting rid of the black leather in seconds.

“Your dick,” he corrects, hands back on you, gently laying you back against his pillows, trailing over your now completely naked body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You roll your eyes but say nothing, heart in your throat, pussy pulsing in anticipation.

He straightens, taking in the display in front of him. Taking in you.

You sit up slightly, chewing your lower lip. He’s beautiful, but even more so in the moonlight. It illuminates his pale skin, almost making him glow in the darkness of the rest of his room. Obsidian hair falls in a straight sheet around his flushed cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Violet and red marks adorn his neck and chest. His abs flex when he watches the way your eyes trail down; down the inlet between them, down the stern jut of his prominent v-line, over the faint trail of dark hair that disappears into the band of his jeans.

His fingers—the ones just inside you—hover on the button. They’re covered in your slick, resting just above a bulge that looks absolutely delicious, one that you know he can’t wait to bury inside you—but still, he hesitates.

“I love you, Keisuke,” you say. He smiles. It’s the only further confirmation he needs before he’s pushing off the bed and pulling down his jeans and underwear in one go.

The others have lied about a lot—like Baji’s lack of virginity—but the size of Keisuke is not one of them.

Your jaw drops as you push to your knees, staring at Keisuke’s cock like it’s the first you’ve ever seen. It’s not, and technically speaking, it’s not even the first time you’ve seen his—but that time in the shower, when it was hanging heavily between his legs and you only caught a glimpse… apparently, that was him soft.

Keisuke hard is more impressive than any porn you’ve seen. So heavy that it can barely support its own weight, even with all the blood rushing through it, and so wide around even Keisuke, with his broad palms and lanky fingers, doesn’t dwarf it.

A thick bead of pre slips out the tip, trailing along the bulging vein that disappears under Keisuke’s hand as he starts to stroke it.

“This… is where the others tapped out,” he says slowly, taking in the way you watch. “I mean—not that I’m thinking about them—but I just—“

“You’re big.”

Keisuke chokes on a laugh. “So I’ve heard. Pretty virgin like you wouldn’t know any better though, would you?”

You give him a withering glare. “I’ve sucked dick before, asshole. You’re big.”

Keisuke’s jaw clenches. “Yeah? Go on, then. Show me how you’ve sucked dick.”

Later, you’ll tease him for how jealous he got, and later, you’ll revel in the possessive way he determines to erase every other touch from your memory—but now, you obediently crawl towards him, one of your smaller hands overlapping his, and you take control.

You press a soft kiss to his flushed tip. It’s larger than your lips, his pre a salty gloss as you kiss again and again—Keisuke grips your hair. “Suck.”

It’s as much a plea as it is a command, one you can’t ignore. You take him,—just the tip—in your mouth, tongue swirling over his warm head as your hand replaces his on the rest of his dick. Your fingers barely touch, and no matter how you adjust, how you lay your palm or spread your fingers… there’s still at least an inch of him exposed.

He hisses, nearly drowning out the lewd, wet sound your pussy makes as it clenches around nothing.

“This—turning you on?” he says, as if his cock isn’t twitching obscenely against your tongue. “Fuckin—sucking on a big cock making you wet?”

You let go with a wet pop! and bat your eyelashes at him. You know exactly what you’re doing when you say, “No, Kei. I’m this wet ‘cause of you.”

With a groan, Keisuke pulls your head back to his dick and thrusts in, sliding as far as you’ll let him before you start to gag. “That’s—that’s it, sweetheart, get it nice and wet.”

He holds you there for a moment, waiting until you tap on his thigh before sliding out. Your eyes are teary, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Deftly, you twist your wrist while catching your breath. His fingers go from knotting in your hair to petting the back of your head.

“You keep doing that, I’m gonna bust,” he warns, but his fond smile gives him away.

You merely smile. “Telling me you’ve never had your cock sucked, Kei?”

His lip curls in a snarl, which disappears with a groan when you take him in your throat once more. Slowly, lips pursing around him, tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cockhead as you try going as far as you can. Your jaw is already starting to ache, but you’re determined to prove yourself.

“Not—like this,” he moans, pushing your head a little further down. Your lips split in a smile, and you raise your hand to start fondling his balls—a trick that’s always gotten you success before—but before you make contact, Keisuke is sliding out and grabbing your jaw. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown out with lust. He stares at your lips then leans forward, not flinching at the taste of himself on you.

“Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbles. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to lean back, nodding.

“Want you to fuck me too,” you agree. One of Keisuke’s muscular thighs slides between your legs, easing them apart. He keeps kissing you, letting you fall softly against his pillows while he keeps stroking his member, slick with your spit.

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit. You hiss in surprise, eyes closing shut at the sudden sensation of pleasure that rushes through you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says quietly. He grips his cock right beneath the head, guiding it through your slick folds, getting as much of your fluids on him as he can.

He’s torn between needing to see the way you suck him in, and the need to squeeze his eyes shut. The sight of you alone, legs spread on either side, pussy gushing because of him, covering in marks because of him, mewling his name as you beg him to fuck you—it’s almost enough for him to cum on the spot.

Faintly, honks echo from the street below. It’s amazing that in this instant, as your world is about to change forever and for the better, everyone else is going about their business like nothing’s happening. They’re catching a late-dinner with their partner; walking home from a late-night meeting that could’ve been an email; swinging by the grocer’s to pick up snacks and drinks to share with their friends… The whole world is continuing on, just beyond that window, but for you and Keisuke… it’s as if time’s stopped.

The world is only real for the two of you.

He bends down to kiss you, making sure to pour every ounce of love and care he has into this one. You respond just as sweetly, reveling in the power of this moment, this one decision that will irrevocably tie you together forever, the way you were always meant to be.

He loves you, you love him, and there’s nothing else that matters.

“Ready?” he asks. You nod, then echo, “ready,” and he puts it in; just the tip, spearing past your tight hole. The two of you let out a synchronous gasp.

It’s even more than three of his fingers; warm, too, and thick, softer but also harder and full—you’re so, so, so full as he slowly edges in. It hurts—it feels good—it burns—you need more—

“Baby,” Keisuke pants. He’s let go of his cock, letting just the first inch or so rest comfortably within your walls. You feel him twitch, feel how tight his fingers dig into the sheets on either side of you so he doesn’t add more bruises to your ever-growing collection. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me—are you—are you okay?”

You whimper slightly when he sinks a little further. Eyes scrunching, your fingers digging into his thighs as you try to even your breath. “It—it’s so—“ you try saying, but it’s like you can feel him in your stomach, the pressure tightening all the way up your throat and cutting you off.

“So—good,” Keisuke gasps. He does the best he can, really, but you—you’re so—warm, and wet, and inviting—the place you’re joined might be the best thing he’s ever felt–ever seen. He slides a little further, presses a kiss to wherever he can reach as he waits until your chest stops heaving as horribly. He tries telling you he loves you, he really tries telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are, how good you feel—but all that comes out are choked, half-sentences that fade into groans.

Tears prick at your lash line by the time he’s securely sheathed in you. Your fingers dig into his back, trying to pull him flush to your chest and bury his head in your neck so he can’t see. You know how he’ll feel; he’ll pull out and say he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt you and it’s not worth it and he won’t try again–and that’s not what you want. You just need some time to adjust, that’s all.

You never realized how empty you were.

Keisuke lifts up from the crook of your neck when the first tear slides against his cheek. “M’sorry,” he breathes, kissing one eye, then the other, licking the tear tracks and kissing you again. “M’sorry, I don’t wanna hurt—“ His arms shake on either side of you. The urge to start shifting his hips is sinful, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not until you're okay, not until you tell him it’s okay.

“It’s—okay,” you breathe. Your face says otherwise, but really… it’s okay. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, offering him a little smile as you shift your hips ever-so-slightly against his. “I’m—I’m okay, baby, really. Just—just go slow.”

Keisuke kisses you. Slowly, deeply, spreading your lips with his as he gently pulls out and slides back in, heeding your directive to go slow. It hurts, it still hurts, is it supposed to hurt like this—but right when you’re about to give up, right when you’re about to tell him it's too much and maybe you should stop… it starts to feel good.

Not just full, but satisfying, bumping against the back of your messy cunt with every stroke. The ridge of his cockhead catches your insides in a way that makes your toes curl, and before long, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Gods—fuck, Kei, fuck—“ you hiss, burying your head in his shoulder, biting his collarbone to keep yourself from screaming. “Just—there, like that, don’t—fuck—“

“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he hisses. Your broken pleas of, I am, I am, I am—go unrecognized as he slowly picks up speed. “Virgin pussy—heh—always feel this—fuckin’ good?”

You moan, loud and unreserved, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. Your stomach burns. Your pussy clenches, but for the first time, there’s finally something to hold on to, finally something to fill you up—you’ve never been so full, never felt so good. The coil tightens in your stomach, made all the more tense by the fact there’s something inside— “Gonna— gonna cum, Kei, don’t—don’t stop, please—“

“Yeah, sweetheart? You gonna—gonna cum for me? Go on, cum f’me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me what we’ve been—been waitin’ for—“

You cry when your orgasm finally washes over you.

You’ve never climaxed this powerfully before, to the point that you’ve felt like—this. The world is empty besides the two of you. Bells ring in your ear as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body floating. You feel everything and nothing; like you’re weightless but have never been so heavy in your life.

You gasp for air, fingers digging into Keisuke’s shoulders as his hips stutter a few more times then still. His moans into your ear as his own orgasms consumes him, painting your insides white, shooting so much it drips out of your spent pussy and starts to puddle between you.

He stays there for a moment. Lets his lips trace lazy patterns beneath your ear, still half-hard inside you, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other holding your breast. Even though you’re spent, your hands delicately trail up and down his spine. Your breathing is heavy and your smile bright and you think you could stay right here forever.

The plastic stars one his ceiling smile down at you, and you imagine the ones outside are doing the same. ‘About time!’ they seem to say. After all these years, about time. There’s a shrill whistle of bus brakes, screeching to a halt; a muffled shout from one pedestrian to another. The fan creaks slightly, the cool air washing over you and helping calm the raging fire on your skin. The clock on Keisuke’s lopsided nightstand, made even with a stack of textbooks he never got to put to use, beeps at midnight: the end of one day, the start of forever.

Kei takes a deep breath and slides off, hissing as his sensitive cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. He lays on his back, taking a hand and placing it over his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart.

Your legs are sticky. They’re already getting sore. Your hips ache, your spine stretches, your chest burns—but you relish it. Kei’s breathing evens beside you.

Glancing, you check if he’s asleep—but with the way his forearm covers his eyes, you can’t tell. He looks even more like an angel now. Light, from a city just waking up, creeps past the curtains, illuminating slivers of his pale and flushed skin. He looks–relaxed. Content, even with the blush still coloring his high cheeks bones. His lips are parted, shallow gasps of air being sucked through them, but the longer you look, the more it looks like they’re curling in a smile.

His chest rises and falls steadily, and just when you start to think he might actually be asleep, the hand beneath your neck starts playing with your hair.

“Think it’s—always this good?” he asks breathlessly, pulling you in a little closer.

You pretend to think. He tilts his head, cracking an eye to look down at you curiously. You smile. “I don’t know. Think we better try again—y’know, just to be sure.”

Kei barks out a laugh and pulls you to his chest, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And right now, with the gentle light filtering through his open window, sweaty and smiling and with his cum dripping from between your legs to make a mess of his thigh, you are.

You play with the edges of his hair, sprawled lazily across his sweaty forehead. With a soft smile, he reaches for your fingers and pulls them to his lips. “Do you actually like it? My haircut, I mean. Pretty sure you liked the other stuff.”

You answer with a laugh, pressing a kiss to where the edges fall. “I love it.”

He grins and rolls over, pinning you to the mattress. The short locks make a curtain, hiding the two of you from anything but each other. “Good. Did it f’you.”

“For me?”

He hums and buries his face in your neck, delicately kissing the bruising skin. “Noticed your type. None of them had long hair, ’n I thought…”

With a pealing laugh, you grab his cheeks and bring his face to yours, smothering him with kisses. “Keisuke, you are such an idiot.”

He pretends to frown, but kisses you all the same. “Weren’t calling me that when I was making you scream earlier.”

“Kei,” you say, forcing him back so you can really meet his eyes, “short hair, long hair. No hair. The only kind of guy I’ve ever truly wanted has been you.”

Keisuke blinks. Short, thick lashes bat against those endlessly high cheekbones of his, and then he smiles. He lowers his lips to yours once more and gifts you a kiss; deep, slow. A kiss that’s been years in the making, that says all that your words have and then some.

“I love you,” he says, and you barely have time to say the same before he’s kissing you, hardening cock easily gliding back through your sticky folds, and you go for round two.

So... happy adventuring :) thank you for reading! if you made it this far… pls reblog, drop a comment, or leave an ask if you enjoyed!! I worked really, really hard on this, and it would mean the absolute world to me that, if y’all enjoyed it, you told me why. if you hated it, tell me why. if i made you cry or scream or fall in love or fierce fiercely full of disappointed rage, tell me why!! i won’t bite (unless you ask)!

hopefully the next adventure gets even better. thanks for reading!

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